A blooming pink rose. Can there be a stronger, clearer symbol of youth, femininity and freshness? Or has the beauty of pink been usurped by the image of disney princess and little girls’ clothing? For me, part of a richer discovery of the world and myself has often been a process of feeling, learning, unlearning while remembering, and finally coming to a deeper feeling. It’s the same for me with pink roses. I loved them, then I internalized the symbolic baggage they carry, then I unprogrammed myself from what I thought was the “typical” reaction to them. In the end, I’ve come around full-circle and what they might stand for is of no consequence to me.