The way I see it, sometimes you have to dig a little deeper to find inspiration. Move things around: silver, china, linens. Peel back pages: books, magazines, (ahem) blogs. And, if you're the gardening type, clear the brush. Deweed the beds. Trim old blooms. That's what I've been doing this week, having returned from travels high and low, to a garden in need of care. The zinnias spoke to me first.
Lovely, aren't I? Fuchsia's my color. Pick me, and I'll light up the room.
What about me? I'm pretty too. And part of the family.
Next came the phlox. I'll add depth, they said, and softness too. Won't you please pick me?
And I did, all of them.
Dressed up in Paris porcelain. Destined for another life. Or two.
To be continued…