My mom was a florist. She used to say you can always tell a florist by their thumb. Each floral stalk must be cut prior to refrigeration and cut again when incorporated into a design, so if the inside of the thumb is rough and slightly discolored, with tiny slices lining the soft padding, like a hundred tiny paper cuts, you’re talking to a florist.
She made incredible floral arrangements, from bouquets to centerpieces. She was a perfectionist in all things, especially her work. She believed not one flower should escape a bride’s bouquet the day of the wedding; if it did, it was shoddy workmanship, so she gave each bouquet a test drive by shaking it, rather violently. She would take a completed wedding bouquet and give it several pretty firm shakes up and down. I recall the first time I saw her do this and freaked out a bit.
“Mom, what are you doing? You are going to ruin that!”“Honey, this is nothing. You know the abuse a bouquet takes during an actual wedding? If it can withstand this, it will hold up for the bride till the end of the reception.”
To this day, whenever I see a flower fallen from a bouquet at a wedding, I think of my mom in heaven, pointing down at that fallen flower with one and saying, “That should NEVER happen.”
Yes, my mom put a lot of time, thought, energy and attention to detail into everything she created. Her floral designs were impressive. People loved them.
But no matter how beautiful they were, in a week or two, they were dead.
All that time creating exquisite floral arrangements only to end up wilted and brown and tossed in the garbage. Even as a kid, it pained me to see it.
I asked my mom once if it bothered her that what she worked so hard to create ended up in the trash. She said it didn’t. “Flowers are for the moment,” was her saying; they weren’t meant to last. Enjoy them NOW because they won’t be around long.
And I look around me at all the people taking photographs of all the other people. You can’t throw a rock in today’s world and not hit someone who considers themselves a professional photographer. (Every other rock hits someone giving workshops but that’s another post entirely. And a completely different analogy, one that has nothing to do with flowers but everything to do with fertilizer.
About the Author
Lynn Cartia (AKA Missy Mwac) is a photographer/eater of bacon/drinker of vodka and a guide through the murky waters of professional photography. You can follow her social media links here: Facebook, Tumblr. This article is also published here and shared with permission.