My Grandma visited me in my dreams

Growing up with my grandma in Italy, I remember her fresh flowers more than anything else. I remember the colors and the scents of flowers mixing with the smells from the kitchen where she would cook delicious meals for us. Her flowers were simple, not fancy, and she would buy them every Saturday at the farmer market and keep them fresh the whole week.
I used oil pastels to create a thick texture on the surface, the texture of the past and its memories.