The May back garden. All these alliums started from two initial bulbs years ago.
Something else that inevitably happens when I get home is a period of being overwhelmed, of being hit with the weight of all the physical stuff of my own life and Paul’s contained in this house, of all the unfinished work on the building itself. It can be numbing.
Usually I lament it but then need to take off again, and very little gets resolved. This week I got moving, and at least a small percentage of it is now out of my life, making way for the new. It helps that it’s been raining / storming/ cool. When it hasn’t been wet, I’ve slowly begun to address the gardens. That’s essential to me; working with growing things has so very many perks, not the least of which is an insight into time. The tritoma I started from seed last year survived the winter and should bloom this year; so did the wee kozo tree, which will soon get its permanent home. Hollyhocks I’m trying to establish in one area reappeared where I wanted them to, but several also came up in the middle of the back lawn.
Below: ‘Spring: Concentrated’, made for the Penland scholarship auction.
It went to a very good home.
I’m thinking forward these days, so still no writing about even the recent past. Not very far forward, yet, mind you: just a personally exciting way to realize a project I very much wanted to do that was turned down a few weeks ago, including a way to tie it to two previous commitments.
I’m still making these and thinking about them. The one on the right also went to the auction, along with a conventional blank book and a martini glass.
When I put up my summer schedule, it pleased me, a good slowed, steady pace with plenty of time for these other things, plus a significant family event in July; but then a (thankfully) persistent curator reminded me of something else I’d committed to that had simply fallen off my radar. That was highly embarrassing, so I’m grateful to her (and will add it to the online lists soon). Though I’m thinking forward, I’m still not inclined to apply for anything and yet there are four nice things booked for 2012…I think this is all good.
The annuals, fewer every year, await a dry day.