This was written on Mother’s Day and was inspired by Gilda. I watched her pressing flowers a few days ago and made furious notes. Belle is one of the main characters in the book I am penning and of course it’s Gilda’s voice I hear when I write. I joked with her and said, ‘Who would have guessed that my Muse would be a lovely old white lady…” “Surely you mean matured?’ she asked. Yes, matured…very. Anyhoo, I will stop talking and let you get on with reading…
I see you admiring the book marks dear. Why yes, I made them myself and they sell rather quickly. Do you know anything of…no, not making bookmarks dear. Of flower pressing and how to go about it? Ah, you thought they were small pictures eh? No child, I rather enjoy pressing flowers. It is a hobby of mine.
Come sit next to me and allow me to show you something. When I first started pressing flowers I used the petals, usually they were of the bigger variety, or ones that I could hold in between my fingers and press in between tissue paper. Take a look. Now take a look at these. Notice the difference? The flowers themselves and the insects are smaller and more intricate. The body of that butterfly was made out of a seed I picked up while weeding the garden. It’s antenna made of blades of grass I cut to the shape and size I wanted them to be. The wings, oh no I never kill any living creature for my bookmarks the wings are those of insects I found on my window sill. I now use a tweezers to handle the delicate parts of discarded flowers and weeds.
Oh yes, I use everything I can find in my garden and home. Everything that is besides the dead bodies of the bees or flies themselves. Why do I do it? Well certainly not to make money out of them that you can be assured.
I like the idea, child, that life continues. Yes there is death and all manner of calamities, but life simply goes on whether we are there or not. So if we are to remain here it’s best we give it a good go don’t you think? Flower pressing is time consuming. Although I must confess I love seeing people’s expression who look at my small creations. “It’s so beautiful…’ they all seem to say with a bit of awe. Beauty, child, can be found anywhere – if you know how to look. Some bits of beauty are obvious for all to see, like the face and body of a beautiful woman. Yet at other times you have to look deeper and harder to find it. But once you do – and here’s the real secret – beauty can be recreated time and time again, one thing becoming another until it turns into what you see before you. Something small and delicate – so easily mistaken and taken for granted.
Almost like the heart of a man if you will. Ask anyone who has been married for years on end and they will say – when days are hard and anger is on your mind, it’s best to look for the small things; small acts of kindnesses, minuscule things you love about the person for who you are sharpening the axe. Look at the way he twitches his feet and sways them from side to side when a silly song plays. Or perhaps the wrinkles around his eyes or the way he always calls for you.
Like flower pressing, love is an expression of creativity. The hearts of men and women turn bleak when they forget to laugh or play for that matter. Would you like a cup of tea deary? Yes? Well then get into the kitchen and brew two cups. I will get the cake ready and if you like, I could show you a trick or two?