Rose as Muse

I think it was the socialist Emma Goldman who said she'd rather have roses on the table than diamonds to around her neck. I don't know if I'd go quite that far, but the roses I brought home from the Philadelphia Flower Show last Wednesday, placed on tables around my house, have been nourishing my creative self. Our banks of snow have been melting slowly and the area's dotted with that gray, ugly mush. The roses I chose out of the hundreds of bundles being sold in the market of the flower show are a buttery yellow that bleeds into orange and each blossom is rimmed with a deep red. I've never seen anything like them before.

The theme of the show this year is Bella Italia, so every display mimics a place in Italy--Rome, Venice, even a whimsical floral Atlantis complete with pieces from the mythology. My favorite was a smaller display, a created piece of Italian untamed parklands, lit low as if under a half moon. I forgot my camera, but I brought a notebook and tried to find some words for the scent of the varied narcissus blooms, the colors on the bougainvillea. I'd taken myself on what Julia Cameron (The Artist's Way) calls "an artist date"--deliberately went by myself so I could be with my own thoughts and senses. It's a great way to feed your muse, an artist's date. You can take yourself anywhere for just a couple of hours, and you don't have to spend a dime. Try browsing in a yarn shop with all its texture and color. This weekend I can go back to the flower show with my husband. He'll no doubt remember his camera and I'll experience the exhibits through a whole different lens.

Liz