White Begonia

This is not the first time I’ve painted a white begonia. In fact, I painted the same plant the year before. I don’t much care for white flowers, but there is something about this begonia. Maybe it is the way it appears dead until well into Spring before extruding a crinkled leaf. Perhaps it’s the yellow centre, stained with pollen (that is such a vivid image, as you can see in my California Tree Poppy). Or the tragic blousy beauty of the flower. Maybe all three.

There is something orchidaceous about the single tuberous begonia (or tuberose). Fortunately, begonias lack the orchid’s unfortunate fleshy appendages. the aerial roots that so disgusted (and fascinated) Raymond Chandler in The Big Sleep. But the eroticism of both flowers is undeniable. Anyone who has spent time watching bees knows this well. A bee forces itself into a flower, pushing and struggling at the petals, with every appearance of urgent amorous intent. Look at the way that this begonia presents itself. How seductively the petals lead one into the prize, the yellow stamens!

You might spot a nod to Georgia O’Keeffe, but it was not intentional. I guess that it is difficult to paint the eroticism of flowers without her spirit attending, so one welcomes and honours it.

I painted this begonia the year before, you can see it here.