The Flower Shop is my self-healing project. It is about who I am, and some of my memories. I understand that I may never feel comfortable with sharing my past, but it is infinitely more important to allow myself the time to walk myself through all of the complex emotions tied to my adolescence. I wanted to create a beautiful series that told the story of my past without words. This series taught me to trust myself, even if I don’t understand what the final form will look like. Here, the process was just as important as the end result, if not more so.
Two months ago, my professor assigned my Design: Form class with creating a series of works that were personally significant to us. I floundered. As a deeply private person, I am not yet at a stage in my life where I felt comfortable enough to share my past experiences with an audience. I am both scared of not being seen and terrified that others would be able to see what has shaped me. I placed an order for jewelry-making supplies and waited for them to arrive as I desperately wracked my brains for a project that would allow me to share a part of myself without feeling as if someone had trespassed on my childhood. The line between art and craft blurred into each other as I struggled to establish a concept 2 and a half weeks before the final critique. I struggled to curate a socially acceptable version of my past for the audience to gawk at.
In yet another meeting with my professor, she told me to let go. To relinquish my desperate need for control. To trust that whatever I made was right.
The first flower that I made was a lotus. It took 6 hours of cutting, sanding, coloring, and shaping the heated plastic by hand before each petal could be twisted together with wire, and the stem was bound by thread. It was time intensive, but while my hands were busy, my mind was free. It was with this time that allowed me to reflect on why I loved the lotus: they only grow in the mud. Unbeknownst to me, the lotus had subconsciously become a metaphor for my life. Something clicked. Using the same technique, I made dozens of flowers, and several unique stems of greenery. I fell in love with the process and the freedom of this project. From the mud, I created beautiful flowers that would be able to bloom forever.
I am a collector of lost things, and for the past year, I accidentally collected vases. Just enough that every flower that I made had a home. The bottom of each vase is filled with things that have been important to me in the past year or so. There are shells from my trips to the ocean, butterfly clips from my collection, legos that my friends and I made from scraps, and rocks from hikes in the woods. With each flower that I placed, I got the feeling that things were falling into place. I may not ever be fully satisfied with my childhood, but this project has been a journey of self-discovery that I never knew I needed.