Every ounce of my being knows that it is fall. The light has shifted and fades ever faster. A few nights ago we were sitting around the dinner table and it was dark, fully dark at 7p.m. My heart ached in an expansive cavernous way, a way that feels the tug and fear of hibernation. I hold a deep love for the quiet, contemplative life a brutal winter brings, the focused studio time, the slow braising beans on the stove, nestling up on the couch with my girls, piled under blankets reading stories of great adventure. But I am not ready for it. Thankfully we have some time before snow, before boots, before woolen sweaters must be worn on a trip from bed to the bathroom in the middle of the night. So for now I am savoring the fading blooms of summer, savoring the beauty of golden light, the chilly mornings that turn into warm days and the flurry of festivals and activities happening out of doors.
Last weekend I had the great pleasure of attending a workshop hosted by the brilliant lovelies at Field & Florist. They seem to have created the perfect business balance. Not only do they farm a half acre field of organic flowers a short drive from Chicago's city limits, but they sell flower shares, much like a CSA where instead of a weekly box of vegetables you get a bouquet of flowers. They also sell wholesale blooms and provide flowers and floral design for events and weddings. These two are a dynamic powerhouse who have cultivated a beautiful aesthetic and unique business model in the flower industry.
So I have to admit that I was absolutely giddy at the chance to frolic in the fields with them and their know-how. We talked about the nitty-gritty from cover crops to irrigation to pest management to tuber storage in the winter. They told stories of hardship, a snow fall in the spring where they were out with blow dryers warming frozen plants, and running over irrigation lines with the tractor tiller, but every ounce of their joy and love of what they do shined through. They shared their favorite blooms, favorite books and favorite sources for seed. And then we really got to play. Our group of twelve was unleashed on the fields to harvest a bucket of flowers that we would then turn into an arrangement. I have made hundreds of bouquets in my life and of late, spent much time playing with flowers, but arranging in a small wide-mouthed chalice was entirely new to me. I couldn't help but laugh at myself as I tried to contain my slightly disheveled wild nature into this sweet vessel. I had lots of leggy blooms leaping out of the pot and rouge grasses swaying in the breeze, but in the end it seemed to come together as an expression of a vision I didn't know I had.
After the workshop I collected a few more blooms to bring home. Three days later I pulled them out of the garage and invited a beloved friend over to be my muse. She slipped into the role without hesitation and brought her full spirit to bear. Zinnias, cosmos, hydrangeas and dahlias oh my! I am deeply grateful for such a wonderful friend. The spirit of adventure and possibility she allows sets me free, free to explore what is both before and behind my lens. I am excited to continue down this path of making pictures of women and flowers, women old and young, the clear faces of babes and the lined faces of wizened women who know themselves deeply, each entangled with the botanical realm treading on the edge between this world and the next.
untitled, in history.
consider the flowers.
from the earth.
May you find a spot of sun to lay in and a bloom to hold in these drifting fleeting days. Revel in it, behold it, cherish it. Cheerio my loves!