There are seven clouds and seven branches in the “flower.” Seven plus seven equals fourteen. Fourteen is a multiple of seven. My birthday is May 7th. The repetition does not feel accidental.

The seawater is still, almost like a large lake or bay, with mountainous terrain in the background, similar to Vancouver.

The sun is setting and fully visible. It feels like spring, which always begins on March 21. In 2025, that was the day of a loyal friend's surgery. The following day was the “D” (or “E”) day.

The flower is not a rose, as in The Little Prince. After all, “It was the time you devoted to your rose that made it so important.” The relationship between the Little Prince and the Rose is a metaphor for true love: a mixture of beauty, fragility, difficulty, and responsibility. The Prince learns that to love is to care and to accept the bond, even in the face of the other’s imperfections.

On this planet, however, the rose is a dandelion. In Canada, dandelions are treated as weeds by gardeners. A Canadian weed.

Yet in this painting, the dandelion resembles a spider. The black widow consumes the male after reproduction, once his usefulness ends. Some spiders also destroy the ootheca, their own offspring.

Life imitates art. Art imitates life.