SUMMER READING

OVERVIEW OF ARRANGEMENT

Each year, at the end of summer, I make a dried floral arrangement using stems of vegetation

that grew the previous growing season on my property. Stems found in my yard, the vegetable patch, flower gardens, hedgerow, roadside, and the forest floor. Each of these areas offer me different choices.

Some stems I pick before they mature and dry them inside. Others, especially grasses and

weeds, I harvest after the dry. By the end of summer, I have saved a wild and tangled mess of stems. I am always surprised and delighted at the bounty mother nature leaves for me. And, I am amazed that so many of the flowers retain their color and form for months before fading.

I think of this season-end arrangement as a book or diary. A book that tells a story of both beauty and the chaos of nature yet in the whole creating a sense of calm and tranquility with a touch of whimsy and playfulness. As a diary the arrangement tells the story of the past summer.

TINY DETAILS OF FORM AND COLOR

I like to make my arrangement in a way that leads my eye to meander through the stems exposing tiny details of form and color that I would miss at a quick glance, before leading me out of the arrangement.

THE BUNNY BOWL

BEFORE THE DISASTER

I had a bunny bowl. The sweetest bowl ever. It was made of raw matte porcelain, that creamy palest of pink color of eggs, with a line of bunnies running along the rim of the bowl. The inside of the bowl was painted with tiny carrots and orange and blue marks. It was a treasured gift from my son.

Bunny bowl sat on a bookshelf in front of a standing open book. The book fell, knocked bunny bowl off the shelf, bunny bowl landed on a large porcelain rabbit, shearing off one its ears, before hitting the floor and shattering.

I was heartbroken. Is it a rule of life that that which you love most is that which you are the most likely to lose? Even as I gathered up the broken pieces, I knew I could not discard them. I believe in the Japanese philosophy of wabi sabi – the elusive beauty of imperfection. I would channel this philosophy. I would find a way to use the broken pieces. The “spirit” of bunny bowl would live on.

I have been casting about for unusual ways to display some of my necklaces and rings. Perhaps bunny’s misfortune could become my good fortune.

Largest piece of broken bunny bowl with one running bunny

Broken piece of bunny bowl used as necklace display bowl

Among the shards I had two usable pieces and four running bunnies. The largest piece is a display bowl for necklaces, the other smaller piece, is a display dish for rings.

Display dish for rings. Individual running bunnies to be crafted into pendants.

Repurposing the broken pieces of bunny bowl doesn't replace bunny bowl but I am reminded when I see those repurposed pieces of a much loved and treasured gift.

THE VOICE OF GOD

I was told one can hear the voice of God in Bach's music. I was intrigued. So, I began playing Bach. I found a new interest in Bach, but I didn't hear the "voice of God". I remained intrigued and continued practicing – and practicing. I got better at playing Bach but I didn’t hear “the voice of God”. One day, after a couple of hours at the piano, I decided to take a break and sit on my deck. The deck is very high from the ground extending into a ring of giant old oak trees. It was a perfect day - a 10 out of 10 - cool, sunny, low humidity. The calm was utterly surreal. Bumblebees busy in the roses, birds chirping in the trees, katydids humming in the weeds, a distant dog barking, faint sounds of a neighbor working, a small plane flying overhead, a crow cawing nearby, a robin's sharp chirping. Now, a hummingbird alarming me -- too close, too fast! But, not a breeze in the trees. I think "quiet" isn't correct, but oh so "calm". And then, unreal, - a hawk lands on the deck rail - not more than three feet away from me. We make eye contact. Still, he stays. Seconds pass and still we maintain eye contact. He flies away. Did I just "hear" the "voice" of God”???