I have always liked the flower at the end of its life, where the color becomes more intense, the gradations more interesting. The flowers that I work on are outdated and have lost their luster, for lack of perished time.

          The bouquets I pick have been loved, honored, revered, for lifetimes. They bear the marks of time.

          These flowers of evil then become adornment of beauty between two worlds in suspense.

Cassandra.

Mourning flowers