Art vs. Design, Mother vs. Maker

A reflection on motherhood & art practice pt. 2

The tension between art and design is similar to that of vocation and motherhood. Often the one informs or renews the other but it is important to acknowledge their own separate roles. In order to honor the work of both artists and designers, we must distinguish their differences. To oversimplify, art primarily needs to exist for itself as the end, whereas design tends to give itself to external means and purposes. For example, floral design is specifically a practice that serves to memorialize or celebrate which is why you tend to see flowers at weddings and funerals and not in galleries or museums. However, I think it’s a good idea for designers to practice art in order to continue creating authentic and challenging work. The times I have paused to make art with florals, I have experienced rejuvenation in my design practice.

Rather than trying to prove to myself that my designs are art, I find rest in knowing that my work does not have to fulfill a particular definition in order to have value. Though, I do think without it, my designs suffer. Whether through dance, drawing, writing or making floral arrangements for the sake of themselves, the need to express feeling, emotions and drama is at the foundation of my artistic inspiration. Pinterest will always fall short of true internal grit. I have struggled to call my practice art since flowers are by their nature beautiful and lack the raw, grotesque characteristics of so much of the contemporary art that I admire. But knowing that they are separate, actually takes the pressure off.

Whether an arrangement is made as art or as design, leave it out long enough and the stress of this life will reveal itself. If you have ever seen a decaying sunflower, it is as if the wilting disc has spent the last day over the toilet, hair soaked in sweat and raw exhaustion. As a mother I feel so often like the sunflower in its various stages and am oddly even comforted whenever I see one of these giant puking blooms. It makes me feel seen.

When it comes to vocation, it is not always for me to determine whether my work is art or design. I am called to do what is set before me and right now that is raising two children and running a flower business. At the center of my purpose is serving others, specifically in a way that is sacrificial and rooted in love. Understanding this, helps me keep going when I feel guilty for leaving my kids for days on end to work on a wedding.

I have found that when I am not clear on the underlying motivation of love, negative self-talk and limiting beliefs about myself tend to almost shout at me. I sense the little joy feelings trying to get back in but they are just smothered in all the growling of the inner wolves. I won’t be the first to tell you that comparison is the thief of joy. When I compare myself to others, it’s not so much other floral designers as it is those who I consider to be “true” artists. I begin to doubt myself and my purpose and wonder if a career in screamo music would resonate more with what I am actually feeling inside. Perhaps…Perhaps screaming lyrics into a microphone is my true calling but it is not what is in front of me now. I am more likely to generate love through the simple acts of creating a bouquet or reading a book to my children than hyping up head bangers.

Art happens when I look the tragic parts of my mind in the eye and speak to them through whatever my hands are able to make. It need be nothing more. I am living out my calling when I do what is set before me in love. It need be nothing more.

The origin story

Rebecka and Grace after biking to the beach, Spring 2015

Back in the day when we were younger and more single, my dear friend Rebecka and I would bike to the beach, go on epic camping trips and get together to make flowers. We called our floral gatherings Flower Clvb and would wake up early in the morning, travel to the flower district, grab some blooms, then meet back up after work to make! Years prior to my NYC move, I worked for a florist in Waco, TX (Rose Tree) preparing flowers and sweeping floors, all while taking careful note of the ways each designer would place and put together pieces of various shapes and sizes. So when Rebecka and I began creating arrangements, my experience gave us the foundation we needed to jump into filling water buckets and de-thorninng roses. At the time when our flower clvb gatherings began, she was cutting hair and I was working at Patagonia.

Given that our NYC hustles did not provide unlimited funds for our flower arranging hobby, we gave ourselves a $25 budget and choose flowers simply based on whatever fit into our $50 spending pot. Clearly, this wasn’t something we could do on a weekly basis but when we did, the 6 A.M. vigor of florists and vendors scurrying about the flower district, made flowers seem like an adventure. Eventually, Rebecka and I started making arrangements for church events and friends, growing more in love with the idea of working alongside nature.

Left arm = Rebecka’s arm. Right arm = my arm. Obviously Rebecka’s arm is way more cool!

When I think about the origin of Flower Clvb, I often think about my time with Rebecka, wildly pursuing nature and a life chasing the sun. Though not my favorite flower to use in arrangements, of all blooms, I would consider myself a Sun Flower as they go where the sun goes. Rebecka is a birch tree, deeply rooted in the forest and mountains, where she moved the summer of 2016. Although we lived in different cities, the time we had together made way for each of our next chapters. It was the fall of 2016, that I began dreaming about the steps it would take to start my own floral business. I started taking classes and workshops from some of my favorite designers and then with a few weddings under my belt, I launched.

Me, with a sunflower I grew from my fire escape garden

Rebecka & Mark celebrating their next chapter! Flowers made by Rebecka!

Having worked at Patagonia and learned the business practices of Yvon Chouinard’s environmentally progressive company, I acquired the groundwork for how I wanted to run my own business. Not only do certain profits go towards supporting environmental organizations, but the materials and working conditions used to create supply are done ethically and responsibly. After my time at Patagonia, I ran various arts education programs at libraries and public schools, developing a deep love for how children and adults alike acquire aesthetic preferences and learn to see and value the world. Each of my working experiences has defined what Flower Clvb is beyond just a floral design business.

While to me, making sculptural art pieces using nature as my medium of choice is what floral design is all about, it is also about celebrating the people who receive each arrangement and loving the earth by which each blossom came. It is a profound mystery that the ground is able to produce such an array of color, shape and texture. By spending time with organisms as intricate as blossoming plants through Flower Clvb’s gatherings and educational workshops, participants come together in awe, fellowship and affirmation that there is something bigger than ourselves at work in the world.

Preserving the earth and taking care of each flower as a living and created thing changes the perspective of how we interact with our encountered environments. Choosing materials that cause as little harm to the earth as possible such as chicken wire over floral foam, and composting refuse are small ways that Flower Clvb is making sure it has as little impact on the planet as possible. By donating to organizations seeking to preserve life and creating just conditions for living, Flower Clvb operates as a small business motivated by care for the earth.

Reflecting on life moments and experiences shared with friends like Rebecka convince me that the work we choose is inspired by something. For me, money is not the primary motivation behind my business but rather my work with flowers is inspired by a love for nature that has cultivated and grown through my relationships with people. I love the perspective of my dear friend Sarah Gregory who often reminds me that people are one of nature’s greatest gifts. So whenever I want to escape to the ocean and am stuck inside a studio processing flowers, I look into each flowerhead, think about the people receiving them and am transported to to a place equivalent to the beach on a clear day.

picture taken back in the day when over-saturated pics were a thing

Hope in the Midst of Grief

Every wedding is like a Burning Man for florists. You spend days of hard work and energy making something beautiful, all to tear it down a few hours later. It’s a reminder of what a breath this life is. One moment we are here, the next we are gone.

Taking down the chuppah flowers with my husband at the most recent wedding I did was both a joy and sorrow. He spent the first part of the day building it and I spent the second half making it beautiful with Garden Roses, Dahlias and Smilax. I laughed as we hacked at the wood, ripping it apart, clearing out the greenery to have it all out of the venue by midnight. I can fully appreciate why this process is maddening to most people and in many ways it should be. Humans are not wired to destroy the things they create.

The destruction of things will always be reason to grieve whether it’s a mutilated artwork, broken relationship or death itself. If eternity does not exist somewhere deep within us than perhaps we would just accept death as nature’s course. But that is not the human way. When a loved one dies, we mourn that death as the harsh reality that it is. Death feels like it should never happen despite the inevitable fate of us all.

As I write this I think of my aunt Karen who is slowly departing from us. Unlike me, she is not afraid of her finite time coming to an end. She knows more than any feeling of certainty, the bliss of eternity awaits her. The hope she has in heaven and in the God who has shown great kindness to her during her life, makes cancer a lesser enemy.

Even amidst the beauty of a heaven to come, the image of my elderly grandfather leaning over his frail daughter confounds me as I try to sleep. Why does death have to end in pain? I remember the pain I felt as I was laboring, convinced that such pain had to end in my end. Giving birth might be the closest experience I’ve had to death. I felt as the baby moved through my body that these were my final moments. Then I pushed, transcending time and space, finding new life in my arms. The parallels between birth and death go beyond the mere pains of it. Both are expressed in the last few moments of Hector Berlioz’ Requiem, Grande Messe Des Morts, Op. 5 Offertorium: Domine Jesu Christe, where a choir ascends to a culminating sound of joy, peace and elation after an anxious six minutes of somber orchestration. If you are familiar with this piece then you know exactly what I’m talking about. I can only imagine death as rebirth into a life that feels even more like home than the one I try to make for my child. I like to imagine for my aunt like I did at the birth of my son, that all which follows our finite lives is just hope actualized.

No amount of hope can ever diminish the great weight of death, however when hope is satisfied than death is absolutely redeemed. Heaven seems so mythical but at least part of me feels like if I could do something as magical as having a baby or growing a plant out of the ground, couldn’t something like heaven be real? If I can re-purpose materials to make something new, can I be re-made?

When we were done taking down the greenery, my husband and I took it back to my brother and sister-in-law’s row house in Philadelphia. Rather than throwing it in the garbage or compost, I decided to re-install it as a hanging archway on their porch. It became a new creation and though these greens will one day fade back into dirt, the mystery of re-birth manifested itself in an eternal way.

The Truths Flowers Tell

A few years ago when I started getting into flower arranging there was a part of me that was hesitant to get involved with such a colorful media. Living in New York, how do I reconcile the fact that no flower wears black? I feared that the story flowers told, was limited to the beautiful, joyous and celebratory. However, the more I design, the more I realize that the story of the flower is not always one of beauty. Every flower withers.

The tension of finding joy in the beauty of a thing that will not last resonates with me. Who hasn’t experienced death of a friend or family member and wished it was not part of the human experience? As I place flowers together, re-creating new forms out of living ones, I am reminded that they speak of a re-birth just as they speak of death. Pouring my heart and hands into arrangements which are quickly admired and then tossed away feels like life in all of its glory and harshness.

The fact that death is a part of the reality of flowers allows me to engage in the art of floral design in a way that feels true, like I am not dismissing all the hard things of life in exchange for its celebrations. Because of the truth that flowers tell, I am able to think deeply about the world and confront its dark parts with each arrangement I make. It is evident that the world is in great need of love, kindness and compassion and while at times it feels overwhelming, loving the people around me is where it starts. If I cannot show kindness to my own family, how can I show kindness to the stranger?

Flowers lay down their own beauty to exult that of another and laying one’s life down for a friend, brother or even a stranger is the greatest offering that a human being can give to the world.