Where do I get my inspiration? Sometimes it is a memory of place or natural element, usually nudged forward by a beautiful stone in my collection, or a glimpse of a piece of history such as a fragment of 100 year old wallpaper or a detail on antique furnishings.
This poem rattled around in my head until I had to put it on paper. It evolved as my design for the “Unfurl” series began to take shape, the first piece shown here.
In the winter, when my lush gardens are sleeping beneath hard ground, inspiration takes more work and imagination for me. As I held this beautiful piece of rutilated prehnite with its translucent green crossed with black lines of tourmaline, I imagined the tiny fiddleheads, tightly furled and waiting for spring to break.
The poem is about growth, years past feeding the future, and cycles of life. Not all collections have a poem, but this one did.
Unfurling Fiddleheads, 2015. Private Collection
In this mossy bower
Winter’s dark, dank leaves lie thick
Leaching last summer’s glory
Into loamy earth below
Skeletal trees with limbs entwined above
Stand silent sentry
As days lengthen and breezes warm
To coax those sleeping to wake
Tenderly and tightly encircled unto themselves
The fern fronds awake and slowly rise
To lift fallen leaves, as their roots
Sup on memories of years past
Beneath dappled sunshine
The fiddleheads emerge glorious
Their spiraled stories and emotions
Gently unfurl to a new season