Stella Bowen : Art, Love and War
Period: The return to England
I was never happy in London. Since I was not allowed to paint ornamental flesh in the way that I wanted, I began to dream of painting flowers . . . What perfect sitters they made! They could be woven into the patterns that I loved, and the trembling perfection of their petals held a life scarcely less vital than the flesh and bones of my usual human subjects.