This little flower has given me such pleasure. I picked it up from the pavement where it had been dropped, I am pretty sure, by a man who had just walked past with a huge bunch of flowers carefully tied up in paper and ribbons.
When I got home it put it in this little earthenware pot (which I also found abandoned on the street, some months ago) and it has been sitting on the kitchen table for more than a week.
You can just see, on the top petal at the back, a couple of lines of transparency in the colour where it was bruised. These are just as beautiful, I find, as the fine brush-strokes of pigment on the rest of the flower.
frizzyLogic 
Beautiful carnation and vase, captured by your special eye. A subtle metaphor for life’s pain and beauty?
So lovely. So very lovely. Just stunning.
m-l, interesting you should say that. I had recently to gabble on a lot, rather unexpectedly and totally unprepared, about my pictures and it was very instructive because I came up with a whole spiel about being interested in the beauty of damage and imperfection, yadda yadda, blah blah. But actually true! I’m glad you think it is subtle 🙂 It’s such a cliché that I’m only putting it down here in the comments but truly such intense pleasure can come from such small, random and insignificant things.
Beautiful.
The word “exquisite” comes to mind…
So lovely, in its solitude and exuberance!
perfect in its imperfection