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My father is no longer with us, but his rose garden is still there. He has been remembered by many neighbors as such a green thumb gardener. His roses had attracted so many photographers. Since he had been ill for many years, his garden has not been taken care for a long time. The roses have overgrown like trees, but I still found quite a few in beautiful blossom. I did this painting with one of snapshots I took in my father's rose garden. I meditate on those roses. Seeing through the illusive mortality, The Eternity is right in front of me.