Day 356

I started (and fell in love with) Natasha Solomon's The Gallery of Vanished Husbands. The following captured me and prompted me to acquire some yellow flowers (it being the wrong time of year for sunflowers):
"The last time she had visited The National Gallery, she'd been caught by a sunflower and misplaced the rest of the afternoon. She'd watched the canvas until the yellow paint began to vibrate and tremble in waves like liquid sunshine, falling out of the frame and spilling onto the gallery floor. On the way home she'd bought sunflowers and sat with Frieda at the kitchen table for nearly an hour watching them in their glass vase to see if all yellow shook if only you watched for long enough."