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Component #1: the newsletter

Think of it as your invitation to coffee. It’s where we talk about what really happens in the studio—the inspiration, the difficulties, and the joys. I want to peel back the curtain on this very full life as a florist, creative, entrepreneur, and mother with young children. In doing so, I hope to entertain your curiosities and encourage you through your struggles and towards your own dreams.

Component #2: this! the blog

This space acts as a folder for things I mention in the emailed newsletters. My goal is to keep the newsletter short and sweet. You can simply read the letter and be done, or delve deeper into a topic by clicking a link to a longer article or a more thorough gallery of images. This is where those additional musings and images will live.

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4/14/20 4/14/20

Spring Flowers Part I: the daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o'er vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils;

As the virus spread to the U.S., so did spring, heedless of the fact that the rest of the world was coming to an economic and social halt. As doors began to close, I became increasingly inspired by the bliss of the spring flowers opening happily around us. I wanted to capture the inspiration before it was gone. Today, I want to give joy to those of you who may have been shut inside their urban home or downtown apartment as the created world rejoiced into color and fragrance. For those of you who missed spring this year, here is the first in a series of three spring inspired shoots.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o'er vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils;Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shineAnd twinkle on the milky way,They stretched in never-ending lineAlong the margin of a bay:Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but theyOut-did the sparkling waves in glee:A poet could not but be gay,In such a jocund company:I gazed—and gazed—but little thoughtWhat wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lieIn vacant or in pensive mood,They flash upon that inward eyeWhich is the bliss of solitude;And then my heart with pleasure fills,And dances with the daffodils.