I remember how dirty my feet used to get when rambling through my mother's gardens. I loved feeling the different temperatures in the dirt. The top layer dry and warm with sun, and beneath it cold and wet. She grew everything bold and bright. Orange day lilies, towering Sunflowers, Dahlias, Nasturtiums, Lilacs, Delphinium and Lupins. The banks of forest on either side of our house would become an overgrown sea of Forget-me-nots for my dirty feet and I to disappear into. When I look back on my relationship with flowers, these memories mark its beginning.
Every summer, I would take it upon myself to make bouquets for my mother. I thought of it as a duty, a job, something that would make her happy, something that I could hide behind my back and surprise her with, something she would be proud of. Oh, the excitement I would feel in the moment where I would reveal the stems my hands tightly clutched! Small mason jars of dandelions, mint, and lilacs would sit on the table and remind me of my purpose in the world. They were a symbol of my hard work, and of the happiness that they brought to my family.
Flowers have always given me purpose. They are medium for communication and expression. The versatility of their language and their physical beauty have always staggered me. I am grateful and excited to use this space to showcase my relationship with flowers and to share it with you all!
I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!