The Beauty of Peonies and the Art of Letting Go
Occasionally, I paint peonies. They are, without a doubt, my favorite flower. Every year, when they begin to bloom around the neighborhood, I tell myself—and anyone nearby—that I’m going to paint them before it’s too late. Most years, though, that intention never makes it past words. When I really think about it, I’ve only painted peonies a handful of times in my life.
Peonies, to me, are a ridiculous flower. They’re clumsy in the best way. My mother’s peonies used to collapse under their own weight unless she tied them up with stakes and string. I love every stage: the tight buds with a hint of color barely showing, and the full, floppy blooms just beginning to drop their petals in a kind of beautiful disarray.
All of that, packed into a week—maybe less. When painting them from life, you can sometimes watch a bud open in real time. That’s a challenge if you’re a slow painter. The whole composition can shift faster than painting a melting ice cream cone. (And yes—I’ve done that too. All that was left in the end was a puddle and a bit of cone.)
Peonies study by Don Ripper circa 2018.
About a month ago, my father passed away. If you’re in that club, you know how quickly the ending can come. I thought I had more time—more conversations to have, more texts to send. Funny how often I still think I can text him. But time waits for no one, and peonies wait for no one. They bloom and fade on their own schedule. Maybe that’s why I love them more than other, more predictable flowers.
Peonies study by Don Ripper circa 2020
I think the universe gave me peonies this year, just when I needed them, as a reminder that beauty and loss often arrive together. Their timing isn’t ours to control. They don’t wait for us to be ready. Maybe that’s the real lesson: to pick up the brush and engage with the moment. To paint something to gain clarity and to witness it. To celebrate it while it lasts. This season, I am painting peonies, not to preserve the flowers, but to honor their passing. And perhaps, in some quiet way, to honor his as well.
Peonies Study by Don Ripper circa 2016
