Their life cycle maps onto ours through sickness and health, abundance and drought, beginnings, and endings too tangled to tease apart. But beyond metaphor, flowers seduce with a sleepy fragrance. They heal with their leaves, their oils, and their ancient chemistries. They inspire artists who spend lifetimes chasing the colors they toss effortlessly across the fields. They are wrapped and given in celebration, left at gravesides in grief, braided into crowns of remembrance. They are medicine, muse, memory-keeper, and messenger all at once. Live flowers insist that we linger in the velvety now, that we feel the thorn and the bloom at once and remember that beauty and pain are not separate realms but twin threads, winding and blooming together.
This work requires both tenderness and tenacity: Each bloom is handled dozens of times, cut, conditioned, chilled, curated, built into structures, often installed at a height, and deinstalled late at night by someone who hasn't sat down in 12 hours. And since flowers, like food, are a delicate, perishable product, designs are hand-crafted from scratch (think food prep, but on a grand scale) by skilled artisans in the days and hours leading up to your event. My team members and I touch every single stem many times over to shape a living media into the botanical sculptures you'll carry, kiss underneath, and talk to your loved ones across the table over. It is a surprisingly intense, water-logged, thorny process, but one I absolutely love being part of. This is more than just flowers; it's sculpture, improvisation, and performance art at its most immersive.
I’m the kind of person who stops mid-hike to marvel at a single mossy stone, and habitually collects and brings home branches. Thankfully Caleb finds this adorable. Any time we clean out the garage, he asks me a version of the same question: "Is this yard waste, or this a special stick?" Nine times out of ten, the answer is: it's a special stick.
If you’ve faced pushback, judgment, or isolation for living your truth, or thinking and building differently than your community of origin does, please know: I see you. I'm here for all of you who have bravely learned to trust yourself, and to find yourself and your people in the alternative communities.
Look for occasional shows full of singer-songwriter originals by our "frenetically exasperated and humorously self-aware" frontwoman Katy Manning" (she's fun, and also does solo stuff, look her up) in the greater Houston metro area.