newness and freshness

It's been nearly a year and SO much has happened. My burst of energy for floral design didn't exactly come and go, but something in me seemed to step in and insist that I take a smarter, harder, and (thank god) more structured approach, which ended up feeling a lot more REAL. The beautiful apartment with tin ceilings and farm sinks that was the backdrop for the arrangement photos last year was sold by the landlord and I think is having the soul sucked out of it and the rent raised by another Brooklyn developer. J & I moved a few blocks further south in Bed-Stuy, into a muchhh smaller apartment (listed as studio) where we've been happy. I have a nice little fire escape garden: 

But to the point, I quit my job with Macmillan, that great and historic publishing house, on a whim as one ought and a few MINUTES later got confirmation that I'd been accepted as an intern in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden's 10-month apprenticeship. Long story short, I've completely changed my life and work outside every day now. Our rotations are with each gardener between March and December,  2014, with a horticulture certificate to be earned by each intern, thanks to the courses we take free of cost in botany, landscape design, soil science, and plant identification. I've never been happier or felt more like I'm on the right track.

The hitch was, I realized slowly that I'd been hired as a backup when the real hire didn't show for the first week of work. I had no horticulture experience, but must have written a bang-up cover letter and and happened to be in the mood to quit my job at a moment's notice. I arrived with no interview, no orientation information, and proceeded to blunder around for a few weeks making etiquette errors totally unawares. (The world of 8am-4pm manual labor is embedded deeply with codes that differ a lot from the ones that exist in the 9-5 world. No clocking in at 9, then leaving for a 20-min coffee-and-phone-call break to start your day off.) The moment I felt a miasma of gloom settling over me because I was not even close to their first choice, I kicked that feeling in the gut (read: got drunk with a coworker who mercifully but in no uncertain terms told me what was what, thanked him politely, cried for 2 hours at home about how "I'm never the best at anything," then fell asleep hard) and rejoiced that I'd hilariously been given this opportunity and that I'd damn well better make the best of it. My dad made a football metaphor about me being "the walk-on that kicks ass unexpectedly" or something, so now that's how I think of myself. The steel-toed boots help me feel like I'm prepared for such a thing, in like, a plant way.

There is something very comforting about knowing that, for the moment, no one is reading this blog and I can abandon any feeling of self-consciousness or pressure to seem hip. I'm coming to the realization that I'm much more of a romantic than I am cool, and when those overlap in the least, I'm simply lucky. I'll be completely open here about my wants and goals and frustrations, and either no one will read them, or by the time anyone does, they'll seem like the charming and magical beginnings of the deeply satisfied person I'll surely evolve into.

I'll do a little photo dump here so we can catch up.

My first week at BBG was during its illustrious annual Plant Sale,
During Which Rain Discouraged No One. It was the week after
the Sakura Cherry Blossom Festival, During Which No
Cherries Had Yet Bloomed Due to the Unseasonable Chill.

BBG employees are unionized, so we get breaks every
what-feels-like 20 minutes. Some instant cocoa on a rainy March morning
and this handy all-weather notepad.

Botany class. Carnivorous & woody plants seem to be the
subjects here.

When the cherry trees did bloom, it was completely dreamy. This
is the Eastern Parkway entrance to the Osborne Garden, flanked by 2
cherry trees.

Prunus serrulata.

This is the lemony yellow 'Elizabeth' magnolia, crossbred from seed at
BBG, which bloomed at the same time as the cherry trees. There are
only a few in the world. Smells like citrus cake.

Inside a greenhouse. I think I see Pilea peperomioides, Chinese
Money Plant, in the foreground, & some monocots & succulents.

Some breezy tulips between the Fragrance and Shakespeare Gardens,
in mid-May. I texted this to my mother and she said, "A thing
of beauty is a joy forever." SHE IS RIGHT! :)

During an evening walk at Woody Plant Identification class, somewhere
behind the Japanese Garden.

These incredible variegated tree peonies. Such an outrageously
extravagant flower.

For an ephemeral moment in May the Osborne is lined with these fiery
azaleas. I didn't really dig azaleas until I saw these - they're
especially gorgeous on overcast days. Behind them you can spot
the Japanese wisteria climbing the arch over the road.

Bluebell Wood is the next big deal spring thing at BBG after the cherry
blossoms. Perennials whose dieback foliage nurtures the soil for the
following year,  & are gradually replaced by hardy begonias in
early summer.

On grounds crew, we mow and mow and mow and weedwhack and blow
roads and "do trash." We wear these disposable earplugs. Apparently
grounds skills are THE thing to have for a future in horticulture work.

During other moments in my life, I've been getting into tarot. I found this
very inspiring deck by The Wild Unknown (at Catbird, where I'd headed
to add to my #stacks).

We did a ton of planting on the monocot border. When it fills out at the
height of summer, many plants will reach 6' and beyond.

A camper I spotted next to McCarren Park. EXACTLY the
best kind of camper for my traveling dreams. #acaravan
#toadoftoadhall

Walk through the rose garden during Herbaceous
Plant Identification class. One of my co-interns
framed in the window there. Note the many annuals
planted to break up the rose monoculture &
prevent disease, without chemicals.

An exciting realization has been that long hair lets me feel feminine
in crisp/slouchy/oversized cotton buttondowns. This is a world of great.
Here is my favorite new find - bursting with huge, pastel florals
and elephant-ear-sized sleeves.

A juvenile hawk who let us get very close to
him & his family's nest in the Japanese
Garden. There are a lot of them in the garden and
very beautiful, but they eat the ducklings.
Each day we count one fewer. :(

This is the bonsai I am working on. It was given to me
very bushy and much larger, but I've been instructed
to trim without reluctance. As it ages and gets healthier,
it will be transplanted into shallower and shallower
pots, and its taproots clipped off to encourage
fine and full foliage.

This rotation - glory be! - has been with the arborists. Here's Travis
climbing one of the Lindens, setting a line for me to climb. It was ungodly
hard. My stomach muscles still ache. I am practicing arborist knots
at home with some lengths of rope they lent me.

All this change has been wonderful and also disruptive. It's challenged my relationship to J and I've spent much less time with friends. I'm trying to flood myself with inspiration and accept that I want to be around beautiful things and that I'm willing to be alone to do it. Is this healthy? This has yet to be seen.