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. 

 

 

Last days in Eugene

The last weeks in Eugene my knees shook with fear, nervousness, and excitement. I no longer had the comfort of the thought "I can always do it next week". I was overcome with the intense feeling... I wanted to finally do it all. I wanted to pick every flower I could, I wanted to snuggle with my cat, I wanted to drink all the wine, laugh with my roommates, and remember this place as what is had been: a place for learning. Of all types. If it had not have been for the University of Oregon, the Urban Garden, my incredible roommates and friends, I honestly do not think I would have wondered back down the rows of flowers, and picked the wildflowers. I would not have been able to find the inspiration without their help. The last two weeks at school were perfect. I sat in the sun, I saw my old friends, I made new ones, I danced, I giggled and picked and prepared the perfect amount of flowers to feel complete.

clippers and florals

The best thing about being back at the farm is bringing a pair of clippers in my back pocket where ever I please.
 When I was at school in Oregon, I kept a pair in my backpack because I was afraid of students or strangers thinking I may be armed for any other reason other than stealing neighborhood flowers. When I slyly pulled them out to clip the occasional rose or lavender sprig, I would have to do so with one eye over my shoulder and then quickly shove them back into the black hole of my backpack before continuing on my way. Here at Full Belly, it is completely normal to walk around with a pair of rusted clippers in your faded and scuffed pants or shorts pocket. And that, in its self is enough to make me stay here. Forever.

Grapes and green

 During the summer, the farm always reaches a point where one can easily just become increasingly overwhelmed with options. One day, you wake up and realize that you have at least 80 types of tomatoes to choose from, 15 melons to cut and taste, and four types peaches that may just tickle your fancy. It's during this time where it is easiest to corner yourself into what you know. If you are anything like me, instead of branching out, you find yourself making cucumber tomato salad for every meal, a zinnia and sunflower arrangement every day, and a delightfully plain slice of melon greets you in the morning. All of these become your staple without much thought. It takes more effort to try it all. To remember that the nectarines are also ripening on the vine, the figs are darkening on their branches, and the grapes... well the grapes are just invigorated with flavor and color. It's hard not to let it slip through your mind, the cracks or your tongue. This week I had off I made it my goal to get messy with those things I may not have even noticed. But, because there is just SO MUCH to choose from... I had to narrow it down a bit. On a little walk around the farm, I noticed the magical place on our farm where the blackberries, willow tree and grapes all meet. I got so inspired by just these colors, and sights that I decided to do a purple themed arrangement. This is what I came up with.