All my July engagements were met with intruding rains, thunderstorms, lightening. My garden drowned, some of the fruits even rotted right on the plant. I have since done some maintenance + all seems to be healthy again. It felt as though it rained every day - if not from the weather then my temperament took on a sorrowful physicality. Feeling down due to the loss of a friend, or feeling like my creative life making patterns + prints is stuck in slow moving traffic, or my passion + enthusiasm is taking a beating due to my day job. Raining + pouring physically and mentally.
Luckily the first week of August has been lovely. The sun has been making daily appearances without little accompaniment of showers. I simply forced myself to paint - hoping that would rough up the creative in me. I like to paint on my porch, for I rarely get to see the light or bask in the heat of the Southern Summer. I would always rather be warm than cold, in fact I loathe ice in my beverages.
It was during such a day, I sat on my porch painting + drinking my lukewarm water that I encounter a flower that's bloom was new to me. The passion flower, which is more commonly comes in the form of a vine, is scattered along the right bed of my house. The passion flower in my yard is a purple hue; it looks far too exotic to call the hills of Tennessee home. I plucked a few from the vine to arrange with some other floral locals: such as bright sweet peas + yard foiage. Rather ironic or fated, to come across a flower named passion when I need mine own to be reignited.