Pressed leaves

I try to be creative in my own way.  Often using things that once perhaps would have been made into another art work, by mother.  I don’t want her art material to go to waste that she took time to make available.

multicolored wallpaper
Photo by Dominika Roseclay on

For I have a huge box of dried flowers and leaves that mother pressed when I was a child.  She would go into the garden to pick flowers my father had planted especially for her or go out on her push bike (me on a little seat behind her) and gather up potential items of buttercups, daisies, forget-me-nots, mallow, silverweed leaves, shepherd’s purse… and sometimes just gather up bright coloured autumn leaves before they fell.  Nothing poisonous or rare, for mother taught me safety and responsibility, of what NOT to touch or pick for drying and what was fine.  As there’s laws prohibiting picking a lot of flowers in the countryside in the UK and she told me why that is a good thing.  The decline and extinction of some flowers and the creatures that live only on those flowers need protecting.

Sew, if bud puns give you the hebe-jeebies look away now!  For when I’ve made creations from all this lovely box of goodies, I may sell some, but that we will see.  Forsythia I’ve only made things for the family.  As I will say this once and floral, I make no promises of tomorrow and leaf it at that.  It’s against my beleafs to ever guarantree the fuschia or swear (you don’t beleaf that for one minute).  I’m just pollen your leg, in the hope thistle cheer you up and you just tell any sadness to begonia.  If not my hope is you’ll get clover it.  Last bud not least, Beloved, please gardenia your happy and don’t be orchid waiting for someone to bring you flowers, but plant and feel freesia to put [Flowers] on the calendula.

assorted types of leaves on black surface
Photo by Lukas on

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