Arranging flowers made my mother anxious. Her mother, the original Grande Dame, had traveled a good deal and after a trip to Japan (I believe, one is never sure), became interested in ikebana. Somehow in the mysterious smoky halls of mother-daughter relationships Nancy decided she was No Good At Flowers. Given she was very good at decorating houses and wearing clothes, this was likely not true.
Related, perhaps, my idea of flower arranging is to slip through my garden, quickly cutting, and then cram my findings into whatever container or containers feel right in the moment. Random florist vases, on the whole.
Up top, I cut all orange flowers in a pot because they were getting close to done and I didn’t feel like deadheading, jammed them into a red vase because it was a good shape, thought of pink, got some.
Below, rescued sprays of white roses that risk fungus or other depredations. Just look at those thorns – wound me plenty, dissuade rose disease not one whit.
In the brief period where the snowball viburnum wilds out, I once thinned a magnolia to keep it abundant company.
Sometimes I grab a fragrant pink tea rose and shove it in a perfume bottle whose stopper I lost decades ago (also who decants perfume these days?) to keep company with a few David Austins in a hotel water bottle. Yahoo! I probably cut the David Austins because they were hanging over the edges of the raised bed. Who knows? Impulsive decisions lost in the sands of time. Hooray!
And sometimes, I surrender, with an array of small glass friends and family also keeping each other company, to wistfulness. Passiflora vine – with its 24-hour flower life – is always willing to remind us, without much moaning and groaning, that years pass and messy stuff can be beautiful, along with others lessons I am probably missing. I am sure you have some to hand, passiflora or lessons, either way.
This is not a post about how to arrange flowers.
Have a wonderful weekend!
34 Responses
They’re all beautiful with a natural elegance.
Ah, the artist’s eye! Thank you!
My favorite line: “ This is not a post about how to arrange flowers.” Thank you for making my day. (And apologies if this gets posted twice.)
Thank you, and you’re very welcome:).
Weeds in a pilsner glass here. Messy and beautiful indeed. Have a lovely weekend.
Sounds perfect.
Thank you for the grace notes of beauty.
You are so welcome. I’m working up to a post on the midterm elections here, so, it was the least I could do.
I’m so looking forward to this post you’re working on.
Ikebana people are such purists – nothing wrong with that, of course, but it can come across as criticism, when all one wants is happy masses of color or just a bit of bringing the outside inside. Your dear mother had such a good eye for color and proportion, and could bring beauty into any setting – perhaps your own attention to flowers in your garden and in your home is a reflection of that trait.
As for me – the only flower chez moi at the moment is a broken-off pale orange day lily tucked into a somewhat triangular single-serve Campari bottle brought home from Italy. Molto elegante on my kitchen table!
Molto elegante! And redolent with memories. I always felt daylilies looked like they were trying to talk to God, along the rural highways where they grow wild.
My Granny had gigantic magnolia trees in her yard and always had a bouquet much just like yours above, with fresh white flowers and magnolia leaves. Always in a huge crystal vase, with the tall magnolia branches providing a background and support for the delicate flowers. Yours reminds me so much of her. I love your eye for beauty — thank you for sharing!
“Years pass and messy stuff can be beautiful.” That will live in my head this weekend — thank you.
I hope you enjoyed last weekend with your sister and that your conversations with people gave you hope. Have a beautiful weekend. ❤️
Oh, I can imagine your Granny. How lovely. And thank you for your very kind words. I have in mind to report back next Saturday about canvassing, and about what I’m thinking to do from now until the midterms to try and flip the house.
You have an absolutely amazing eye and I am not surprised.
That is so NICE of you! Thank you! You too!
These feel modern and appropriate, with an offhand elegance. “Appropriate” was an important concept to my mother, born 100 years ago. Interesting how appearing natural and effortless is a big component of appropriate now rather than the strict rules of decor and dress that constituted appropriate in the past.
Yes. Fascinating. Appropriate was my father’s keyword. Maybe as more and more of our existence migrates into the electronic ether, more and more we need to ground in the natural? Or maybe roses are just pretty. I can hear the word “appropriate” in my mind’s ears:)
“Appropriate,” now there’s the word. This is what hounds me every day now – how inappropriate is everything that person does. I didn’t think the tearing down of the East Wing could be topped, but now comes his face on a passport. One offending gesture per day. Thank God I have a pressed botanical in the works.
An Oakleaf Hydrangea. I don’t grow them myself, but can view this once-a-year spectacle up and down my roadways. Tall, conical, white rockets shooting upward from masses of huge green leaves. I’m not above pulling over my car, taking clippers out of the console, snipping these wonders from the ROW, bringing them home to enjoy in tall carafes of water, then taking them apart later to press for lasting enjoyment.
Maybe “inappropriate” is a concept of the past, for your mother and Lisa’s father, and a rapidly aging me. A quotation from the internet sees me through every time: If you have done nothing else today but hold on to yourself, then you’ve achieved your best.
Thank you for your inspiration, ladies.
Beautiful flower arrangements—I love the final group with vine descending—and thoughtful text. We humans are prone to self definition from sources that might or might not be surprised to know that we carry that from them. A life secret seems discovering how to move beyond those definitions to whatever we choose. Finding our way to that, and enjoying the ride, seems a goal. My flowers since I moved and settled in have been first one white moth orchid on my dining table, and now two white moth orchids, with the second on a corner chest. They call to each other and bloom happily for months, no arranging or refreshing necessary, and my heart lifts each morning when I walk into the room and see them as I begin my day with a ritual of pour over coffee. My personal relationship to flower arranging is to put one kind of flower in a vase, or if I’m feeling wild, all of one kind with another single sort of green. Happy summer Saturday. x.
It is the life goal, I agree, and to enjoy the journey to the goal would be cherry on the top. I hope your orchids tell each other the secret to this, and allow you to listen in. Let’s all go wild, and let the vines fall where they may:)
Thank you for the reminder that we should “Enjoy the journey.” A few days ago I was trying to remember the last time I belly laughed. I’ve had good days. moments, events, but I’m missing the belly laugh part. My natural tendency toward humor has gotten lost. Enjoying my days, with some belly laughs and silliness is now a goal. Going wild may be a path to that.;)
PS: There is also the Japanese phrase for “beauty in imperfection”: wabi-sabi. I think all of us here can relate to that!
“Wabi-sabi.” I was trying to think of that term! Thank you, Victoire!
Yes, thank you!
That tea rose — exquisite! I love your arrangements.
Ah, thank you so much. Truly, I have no expectations of performance so if people like them it’s all icing <3
Flowers in a vase cheer up and elevate any room.
Did you know that the Chinese culture adds flower arrangements to conference room tables and believe it sets the tone for the meeting.
You have a very nice assortment of flowers in your garden and they make beautiful arrangements.
I didn’t know that! And I agree, flowers in a vase, especially as put there by hand, bring life. Thank you so much.
Oooooooo . I’m all in on the mantle arrangement- that trailing passion vine! Nothing looks more fresh and vegetal than giant rose thorns, deep green buds closed tightly with their sepals. Masses of viburnum with magnolia: so good In fact masses of any single flower( carnations, stock, lilies, zinnias, mums and cosmos) look professionally designed -which brings me to the first arrangement of orange flowers in the red vase with a pale pink blossom from a different color planet. What is that alien flower doing there I ask myself? Did Lisa have an extra blossom and no time to find a container of water for it? Did she think it was an amusing juxtaposition? Did she wonder if some florist who enjoys her blog might notice the pink interloper and unable to help herself chimes in with questions?
Hahahaha! Hello there actual florist! Welcome! I love your description of flowers, so clearly something you love in turn. The pink rose, well, I found the orange flowers in the red vase somewhat brutish and underwhelming, at once, and I wanted something else to both lighten and intensify the mood. Pink felt right; the only pink I could locate in the garden was a rose; hey presto:). More thought than beauty, I guess, and so it goes.
Roses are profligate.
Absolute FLOOZIES, I tell you.
Beautiful work, Lisa! An additional thought re. homegrown flowers : incomparably more elegant & desirable than commercial flowers. Everything right about “farm>table flowers.” .Not all roses are created equal. Thank you, Lisa.
Ah, thank you! And yes, I hadn’t thought of it, but I agree. The imperfections and the surprises, not to mention the scent, of garden-grown flowers make shoving them in vases so much more likely to turn out well enough. Not all roses are created equal.