look past the peak expression

These daisies are from Gammy. She pulled them from one of her bouquets and saved them for me. She doesn’t fully understand why I want her spent flowers, but she happily indulges me. When I teach my workshops, I encourage my participants to “look past the peak expression” of a subject. I tell there is often more emotion is a spent daisy, or an un opened rose than  in a perfect example of either. I love how these daisies look like lampshades. How lovely would a collection of lamps just like these look in a restaurant or over my French library table? Hmmm…..wheels turning.

spent pink daisies

holding onto the past

One soaking rain and we have bud burst. The spring ephemerals are just starting to bloom. I hope they have time to express their short-lived lives, before summer’s green curtain descends. A month of extremes and confusion–80 degree days followed by 40 degree days–has everything is a state of paralysis. Including myself.  I am rooting for the Gulf winds to finally push back the polar jet streams for good. It is a strange spring. I will be watching.

over-wintered boxelder seeds with spring leaf buds

take your own path

There are any number of ways to get from A to B. This old vine found it’s own way. And I found it beautiful.

time of selling books

I like to stick to nature, and the art of noticing, here in my daily musings. No politics. No news. And I don’t know if you have ever noticed, but I rarely even reference the US holidays, I mostly stick to the astronomical events like solstice and equinox. Although I do share tidbits of my life, because by now–12 years into this project–my life and my art are so fully intertwined. With that said, my STILL book has been available for pre-orders since late January 2024. My official Pub Day, whatever that is, is May 1. Ever since we (the publisher and I) announced pre-orders, my days and weeks have been busier than they have been for 12 years. Today alone, I had three interviews–two podcast interviews, and one with Australian television! By all accounts, the book is selling quite well. I can honestly say to you all that I had no idea this would happen. It’s fun. I am not complaining. Just surprised.

interesting is enough

I pulled this eight inch sapling out of my sorrel bed today. And this eight inch tap root came with it. This is not a beautiful subject, but I found it interesting. Which meets one of the two necessary criteria for STILL: beauty or interest. Both criteria are purely subjective I realize, which makes them imprecise as criteria. But they have guided me this far, so I see no reason for changing. By the way, if you have never grown sorrel in your kitchen garden, I recommend it. We got turned on to sorrel while living in France. It’s easy to grow–our own patch self-seeds every year. It has a distinctive lemony flavor that makes it fun to add to just about anything. We make sorrel omelets, like our French friends taught us, and also make a sorrel velouté which we freeze for winter when we crave a bowl of bright green soup that tastes like summer. Bon appétit!

unidentified volunteer sapling