There is something quietly enduring about a rose. It doesn't rush to impress. It opens slowly, petal by petal, holding both structure and softness in perfect tension. After exploring magnolias and the language of joy through poppies in my previous In Bloom series, it felt inevitable to arrive here, to the rose, a subject that carries both history and emotion in equal measure.
This collection, Roses in Bloom, brings together a series of my watercolour paintings that explore roses at every stage: fresh, unfolding, fully open, and even those on the verge of fading. Because beauty doesn't disappear with time, it changes form.
A Flower Steeped in History
Roses have been cultivated for over 5,000 years, with origins tracing back to ancient China. They've appeared in mythology, medicine, and art across cultures, from the symbolic roses in Roman banquets to their layered meanings in Victorian floriography, where each colour conveyed a different message.
Red roses, of course, became synonymous with love, but historically, roses have also represented secrecy (the term sub rosa, meaning “under the rose”), resilience, and even transformation. Their presence in gardens like Ottawa's Experimental Farm continues that long lineage, blending cultivated beauty with natural rhythm.
Last fall, I spent time photographing roses at the Experimental Farm, and this July I was back again camera in hand, studying how summer light transforms the same blooms I painted in autumn. The roses are different now: fuller, looser, more saturated. This year, I'm also hoping to visit the Montreal Botanical Garden to continue that research, because roses are never quite the same twice.
Roses in Motion
What fascinates me most is not the “perfect” rose, but the ones in transition.
In this series, several pieces focus on roses that are fading. Their colours soften, their edges loosen, and their structure becomes more expressive. These are not flowers in decline, they are flowers in movement.
There is a kind of freedom in that stage. A looseness that feels almost like breath.
Painting these roses allows me to explore gesture in a different way. Instead of holding form tightly, I let the pigment travel. Edges blur. Water takes on a more active role. The result is something less controlled, but often more alive.
From a Watercolour Perspective
Roses invite a different kind of attention.
For me, they are less about precision and more about presence, about noticing how a bloom holds itself in a particular moment. Some feel structured and centred, while others seem to drift, their petals opening beyond any fixed shape.
In painting them, I'm drawn to that contrast. The quiet discipline of the form, and the softness that inevitably unsettles it. Especially in the fading roses, where structure gives way to movement, there's a sense of release that feels essential to the series.
Watercolour, in this context, becomes less about control and more about response, about allowing the painting to echo the natural rhythm of the flower itself.
A Season of Showing
This body of work has been part of my outdoor exhibitions this season, including Riverdale ArtWalk in Toronto and Art in the Park in Ottawa.
These events were a wonderful opportunity to experience the paintings in person the scale, the texture of the paper, and the subtle layering that doesn't always translate digitally.
A Poetic Companion
Roses do not rush their becoming.
They gather light in quiet folds,
hold colour like a secret,
and open only when they are ready.
Some arrive in brilliance
bold, structured, certain.
Others soften at the edges,
their beauty slipping gently into air.
But even in fading,
they do not disappear.
They loosen.
They move.
They become something else entirely.
And in that moment
somewhere between holding on and letting go
they are perhaps most themselves.
This series is, in many ways, a continuation of what I've been exploring all along: how flowers can carry emotion, movement, and time within them. Roses just happen to say it a little more quietly.
"Butterfly Waltz", original watercolour on paper, framed, 33 1/8 in (h) x 29 1/8 in (w).
This series isn't done with me yet. The July roses at the Experimental Farm are already asking to be painted, petals loosening, colour deepening, still so beautiful. I'll be back at the easel soon. 🌹
Thank you for reading. I hope these roses find their way into your world.
BK