Why I Paint and Love Flowers

I don't just paint flowers. I love them - and I have for as long as I can remember. My very first picture as a child was a huge flower filling an entire sheet of paper.

Even back then, their colors, shapes and scents drew me in, often so completely that I noticed them more intensely than almost anything else around me. That feeling has stayed with me to this day.

Flowers with all my senses

I perceive sensory impressions very strongly - which is often the case with neurodivergence: we take everything in especially intensely and, above all, all at once, without filtering it. In my case that also includes synesthesia: I can even smell flowers from photos or from well-painted pictures. A meadow in early summer, a single poppy, the scent of rain - moments like these reach me directly and with full force. Painting is my way of sorting and holding on to all these intense impressions.

Autistic people also often develop a special interest - something they dive into completely. I'm fairly sure that flowers are one of my special interests. So love is almost an understatement.

Why paint instead of photograph?

When I paint, it's not about capturing a plant as accurately as possible. I could simply take a photo for that. It's about something else: the time spent with the bloom, the color flowing across the paper, each individual shade I feel. A watercolor comes to life in the moment - and it's exactly this liveliness that makes it so special to me.

When it gets quieter

For me, painting is far more than a lovely pastime. Because of my ADHD, my head is basically always loud - a constant stream of ideas, thoughts and worries all at once. In a house with three children, all the more so. When I paint, it grows quieter.

And because of my autism, I carry a strong urge for things to be perfect. While I paint, that urge is allowed to rest: here I don't have to control anything. A watercolor doesn't have to be correct - it just has to convey something. It's this letting go that does me good. And often the most beautiful things happen exactly where I let the pigments find their own way.

The hollyhock and my grandmother

One flower touches me more than any other: the hollyhock. It reminds me of long summer days at my grandmother's - of sunny days, long evenings and adventures that were bigger than me. To me, childhood is less a place than a feeling: security and freedom at once, a sense of openness and lightness. That's the feeling I try to find again in my pictures - not out of nostalgia, but to carry it into the present. It's no coincidence that the hollyhock opens my series Nature Palette Vol. 1.

More than beautiful

Something else fascinates me about flowers: they aren't only beautiful. They give food and a home to countless creatures - and joy to us humans. That's why today I treasure even the smallest little flower at the roadside. As a child I would certainly have picked it and taken it home. Today I let it stand, for the insects and all the small living things that depend on it.

Why I want to pass this on

This is exactly the feeling I want to share. Not everyone experiences flowers as intensely as I do - but the joy of bringing a bloom to life with color is within reach for many, as soon as getting started is made easy. That's why I create templates, color palettes and guided painting sessions: so that as many people as possible can discover this small, quiet moment for themselves - the feeling of putting a flower onto paper with joy.

So in the end, I don't paint flowers only because they are beautiful. I paint them because they move me - and because I hope that being moved like this is a little bit contagious.