bits and more bits

...from a wedding back in september.

fall in a bridal bouquet

Summer time wedding on the farm

a 60's bouquet and bout. in July.

June Wedding

Peonies and Blackberries

Just like any artist. 

It starts with a vision. 

It begins with a vase, a jar, a tea cup... it starts with the base. 

Sometimes, it starts with a color. A flower, a dream. 

Gold, or sliver. 

A friendship ending

Peony or purple it starts with just one. 

And then, it grows. 

It bursts forth like a seed, planted into perfect soil. 

The idea expands past reality, far into into my imagination where every flower is possible to pick. 

Even blooms that do not exist. 

Yet. 

Here, is generally where I write it down. 

For fear of loosing it. 

Sometimes I draw it. 

Colors, concepts, ideas, themes.

It is all flying.

Anything goes. 

I like this process. 

It's messy. 

It involves garage sales and Goodwills

The pieces picked from the sides of roads or neighbors yards.

Yet
I have found it is dangerous to dream. 

To bring clippers into the world where people see them as weapons not as the brush strokes of an artists imagination. 

To pull them out of your pocket is to go against the grain. 

But, I'd do a lot for my art.

Yes

My favorite part: is when its all before me. 

A puzzle that I must piece together before the lavender starts to wilt. 

A quilt of colors and smells that need to be stitched with ribbon

So I start. I stop. I begin again. I drag it out. I turn on music. I stop. I drink beer. I begin again. I laugh. I get down real low. I stand on chairs. I stop. I turn on NPR. I eat a strawberry. I begin again. 

It's my process. 

 ...and when its happening. the world could very well be crashing together with a million stars. Because I don't see anything 

but the rosebush. 

The peony tree

the greenery 

The flowers before me. 

I could do this forever.

 I will.