"What's your favorite flower?"

The question was asked as we were going around the room introducing ourselves during a floral workshop I attended many years ago. Such a simple, little question. My mind converted it into some sort of zen koan on the essential nature of flowers and why we were being asked this question. I was perplexed and befuddled. Come on Nardo, think! I couldn't come up with one flower that wasn't my favorite flower at one point or another.
 "All flowers" emerged out of the muck.

And yet, and yet.
I bought some lilacs  two weeks age. It was unusual, having not bought them the past few years because they can be unpredictable and suddenly decide not to take up water and wilt, or ?  I was standing in the SF Flower Mart in a mass of lilac blooms, finally being seduced enough again to make a selection when suddenly overwhelmed by how much I really really love lilacs. It was nearly a pull out the kleenex moment, the only restraint being the embarrassment of being in a bustling crowd.

Flowers can play so many roles, but in this instance they were fueling nostalgia. Well, you know how memories are; so pliable and subject to interpretation. 

But here is how I remember two moments in time.

Memory 1
It was a warm, spring morning in my second grade classroom at St. Bernadine's Catholic School in Baltimore City.  In my neighborhood the crocus, daffodils, tulips, azaleas and magnolias bloomed within a fairly short period of time which made a particularly intense and heady contrast after a cold winter of gray sky and naked trees. Spring Fever was rampant. There was a ritual at our school in the spring. A plaster statue of Mary, Jesus's mother was brought out and placed in the front of a class on a table decorated with the assorted spring flowers. During the month of May we would draw names out of a fish bowl. If your name was drawn you got to make a little crown of flowers from your home garden to put on Mary's head and deliver it during a touching ceremony that entailed the class standing up and singing a song while the maker approached the statue and crowned her with the flower wreath.

 "Oh Mary, we crown you with blossoms today, queen of the roses....queen of the May!"


Finally, the fish bowl coughed up my name. The next morning I walked to school gingerly transporting the freshly made crown wrapped in a damp paper towel in a plastic baggie balanced on my hand. Was the crown made from lilacs? I have no idea! But I do completely associate the scent of the lilacs filling the air while walking up to place the crown on top of Mary's head. It was a solemn yet joyful little ceremony.  While I'm not a practicing Catholic, it still remains a moving, lilac scented associated memory.

Memory 2
I'm driving down Tejon Street in Colorado Springs during the first spring living in this new town and brand new life of mine. Six months prior I packed my little white Datsun with all my earthly belongings to move from Baltimore, Maryland to Colorado Springs, Colorado, the land of the true West.  

A little more than a year before my college boyfriend and I embarked on a cross-country trip in celebration of our graduation from college  Our transport was a Volkswagon bug loaded with two big dogs and camping gear. Prior to leaving he rebuilt the engine to get it ready for the big trip. Nuts and bolts had a hand in fate and the engine seized as we approached the Rocky Mountains. We got towed  to the Springs and my boyfriend's friend's house while the engine got repaired. His friend had one very compelling roommate... 

This was not the cell phone era. After returning to Baltimore I eventually parted with my college boyfriend (wonderful- but not the right guy). Jon and I exchanged approximately 24 letters, 2 phone calls, and one short visit, I returned to Colorado to move in with him. We are still together. 
It's not always a bed of lilacs, but it is one of my very best choices in life.

On the drive on that spring day I passed lilac bush after lilac bush, planted in the medians, planted in yards. I wondered why on earth the town had not been named Lilac Springs. I had never seen so many varieties of this beautiful flower, nor seen them grow with such vigor. The whole town was scented and love was in the air and in my heart.

Front, Back, Bits and Pieces

 This past Friday I gave a workshop in my studio and next time I will get the backdrop area situated to take photographs of the beautiful work the participants did in the Spring Pin Frog Workshop. Because the kind of blossoming I love most is what women do as they come back to practice time and time again. Opening up like the flowers themselves, gaining confidence, having a voice. Its good to record that evolution.

This was the demo arrangement that received the finishing touches after the workshop was over. Inevitably there are bits and pieces of flowers that ended up in the wire and jar caddy.

 And finally there are leftover flower petals. It's a little like cooking; taking your leftover ingredients and thinking of different ways to use them.
 

Flour/Flower Event

Easter Pop-up at Ponsford Bakery! 

Ponsford Place
(Bakery and Innovation Center) http://ponsfordsplace.com   

This little bakery is close to my neighborhood off a heavily trafficked road. It's on an inconspicuous side street that is still residential. It's unexpected location adds to it's charm. This bakery sells light and flavorful whole wheat and gluten free breads and pastries in the french tradition with a lot of unexpected twists on ingredients and savory fillings such as : Crème of Nettle Mushroom with or WITHOUT Speck and Rancho Gordo Domingo Rojo and Vaquero Beans with Cumin, Shishito Peppers, & Potatoes. The chocolate croissant won me over by the complexity of it's flavor and generosity of dark chocolate, something I have to have quite often!

It's a destination bakery as people come from afar for the Craig Ponsford and sister Elizabeth's baked goods. They use heritage grains that are grown and milled  locally along with other ingredients sourced from our local farmer's market. Craig participates an International competitions and has won the Gold medal at Coupe du Monde de la Boulangerie in Paris. I was thrilled when he said yes to a pop-up feeling a kindred sense of working on one's craft. I discovered in one of our brief conversations that we both source from the same grower, Front Porch Farms https://fpfarm.com/ for for some our flour/flowers.

In honor of Easter I came up with  rustic Easter tins that included a bouquet and a bag of Ponsford chocolates.

 

Workshop revisited

The wedding bouquet I made in the  Little Flower Shop Master's Workshop early this week is way past it's prime. All the flowers are collectively involved in their graceful demise. The two long silk ribbons tied around it's collar act as wicks, pulling water from inside the vase it's sitting in to slowly travel down the ribbons to drip, drip on the dining room table Jon built. I catch the water each time before it does any damage, finally just jamming the whole ribbon ensemble inside the vase. Maybe I'll keep this bouquet forever-  for awhile anyway, like a bride.

I'm holding on to it, because I'm holding on to the experience. In a way it was like a wedding for the participants; a group of designers, landscape architects and crew from lovely Scribe Winery in Sonoma, our workshop location. It was a commitment ceremony between us, the flowers and this flower design business, tightening the screws. 

Every person walks away with their own experience. It was especially profound for me for a few reasons: It was a luxury experience I rarely allow. I was pretty satisfied with two out of three of the pieces that I made, pushing myself to work with many more flowers than this minimalist is inclined to use. I got to spend time with other designers as many work in a rather solitary fashion. Also I got to spend a little more time with Sarah and Nicole, two of my favorite flower heroes. Nicole is immediately warm and nurturing. Sarah is a little more bristly at first, but also extraordinarily generous. Their style is very composed and very loose at the same time. Closest to my heart is their palette which is much more muted and browned out than is typically used.

 I have a special affection for Sarah, the Saipua portion of the Little Flower School. I found her blog out of the ether when a dear friend passed away a number of years ago. I was feeling raw, so very raw and nothing gave me solace, not even making art. Late at night one night I clicked on her journal. I had no idea flower journal's even existed. The beauty of her work, and the honesty of her writing was the door to a  community of flower artists. They got me through that time. The blog discovery recalled my experience with flowers many years prior when I briefly worked for an amazing floral designer in Colorado Springs who was the designer for society clientele in Colorado Springs, a beautiful  mountain town in it's last vestiges of boom town money from silver and gold mining from the late 1800's.

 Terry Gentry was an incredible talent, ahead of his time in making naturalistic bouquets. We had flowers delivered from all over the world several times a week. I worked there only a brief time prepping flowers and soaking it all in. The studio needed a delivery girl, not an apprentice and I was impatient and didn't want to wait. I went back to being an artist. Life took me down a few other flower related roads till I came back around.

Master's Class with the Little Flower School

  

I'm shaking in my boots from excitement.  I'm a little afraid too- but the best things in life are a mix of both- right?  

This evening I head up to Sonoma to reacquaint myself with the gals who run the Little Flower School out of Brooklyn, NY: Sarah Ryhanen of Saipua and Nicollette Camille of Nicollete Camille Designs. They joined talents and started the school several years ago. Of course they won't remember me at all as I am one of hundreds that have passed through their popular workshops that are held around the world. 

I first met them when they came through 4 or 5 years back on an earlier round of workshops on the West Coast. That was a two hour workshop and now I have two days to pick their brains at a Master's Class Workshop. http://littleflowerschoolbrooklyn.com/coming-soon-sonoma-ca/ .


It is a huge leap of faith because of the investment. But the last time I attended their workshop, I came away with the notion that I could teach, even though I was absolutely terrified of getting up in front of people and talking. I had cleverly and strategically avoided public speaking through college graduation (what you can do when you put your mind to it....) 

I'm now coming up on my third year teaching. Haven't quite tamed the jitters beast, but I love, love teaching and watching the results unfold for those who come back time again to practice this art and craft.  And now it's my time to be the student again and learn more to move my business forward and share in workshops to come!

Ranunclus Explosion at Front Porch Farms!

When you cut the stem of a flower and hear a crispy snap, you have one fresh flower.
That's really important in the flower biz when you're working on orders and are wondering how long the flowers are going to last after you've delivered them and bid them adieu. I gave up including ranunculus in orders unless I was able to get them from a certain vendor in the SF flower Mart because they have been unreliable; meaning they wilt, don't open, and get the bends. Even in a ultra fresh batch a  few flower heads will just nod over about 4 inches down from the flower. I don't know of a Viagra equivalent for these flowers  at this point, but you can just cut these short and enjoy them in small containers.

We are so lucky to have the Marin County Farmer's Market right down the highway, where several Bay Area flower growers bring their offerings twice a week.  Of these growers (all of whom have really nice flowers), Front Porch Farm in Healdsburg  https://fpfarm.com/is knocking it out of the ball park with their spring ranunculus, raised by flower grower, Zoe Hitchner. They are fresh, long lasting and come in every color. I buy them every week and really just want to scoop the whole inventory on display and bring them home.

So if you're local, get yourselves down there, ya'll- and don't put them in deep water because they don't like it and the stems will rot. A few inches will do.

One of the wonderful features of ranunculus are their bendy, wonky stems, hidden in more dense arrangements. To hold these up I used "pin frogs, heavy metal discs covered with metal pins (where did my pin frog picture go?) that support the flowers inserted on the pins.

Above us and below us

Is beauty. 

There were so many variations in this watercolor sky on the drive home from Tahoe. It held us spellbound.

 

 

 

 

It's not too late for LOVE.

I found myself unlocking my home studio at 8:30PM on Valentine's Eve for a guy who was in a panic looking for flowers for his wife. He had snuck out of the house telling  his son, "shh... don't tell Mom".

After he walked back out into the night with flowers in hand, I felt a little like an old fashioned country doctor or maybe a sought after herbalist. Aside from saving him from further panic and the dregs of store bought flowers, I had just having provided some sort of necessary medicine- flower medicine, flower power. Though I wish guys  and gals would realize that you don't have to wait for this commercially fueled day to give flowers, this enforced tradition gives them the idea that flowers make people very, very happy.

And maybe even change your life.

Pave' 2016

Some photos from Saturday's workshop. 

Ah, Pave', so simple and so challenging! 
This most painterly form of arrangement kicks our butts.

Great job!

   

Is it Ikebana or is it a Rolex?

The magazines are showing spring blossoms and yet I am still holding on to winter and enjoying the local seasonal transition. In the yard the hellebores, white violets and the dreaded sour grass are in bloom. Lots of spring buds look fully loaded. 

This minimal composition is made of what was at hand; date palm bark a friend found and passed on (knowing I like botanical oddities), a Rex begonia flower threaded through the bark, light green usnea from our Christmas tree foraging expedition, lichen collected in the  Sierras, and a tarnished  pitcher my sister-in-law gave me. This arrangement is the other side of the wild garden like compositions that usually appear in the journal, but I do like spare minimal ones as well. Is it Ikebana? I don't know but am inspired me to look into this form of floral design I'm at odds with.

Ikebana is the ancient Japanese art form of arranging flowers in a very minimal fashion. It is venerated in this country. It is in art museums. landscape design shows, in print and on stage. Ikebana even dominates the floral exhibit area of our county fair. Yep, all the best lighting and exhibition space go to Ikebana.   

So please forgive what I'm going to say.  I'll  take the hits as Ikebana practitioners lob their pin frogs at me- I don't get it and I don't understand why I don't get it.  Like a prospective date it has everything on paper that is appealing; nature, our relationship with nature, metaphor- but when I see it, there is no chemistry. Admiring most things Japanese, this is a puzzle.


Look for yourself:
http://www.ikebanahq.org

Back to the question:Is this composition Ikebana? 

Of the many differant schools, the Sogetsu school seems to allow the most creative interpretation and the most freedom. However the Sogetsu Society offers a book titled, "The Fifty Principles of Sogetsu", so now the Sogetsu practitioners are having a good belly laugh. They are saying "you're embarrassing yourself, grasshopper; better quit while you're ahead!".