Infinite Variety/Creative Choice

Infinite. Abundant. Words that have both spiritual and material connotations. One of my favorite writers, Annie Dillard, speaks of the fecundity of nature in her first book of prose, Pilgrim at Tinker's Creek:

"A big elm in a single season might make as many as six million leaves, wholly intricate,without budging an inch; I couldn't make one.a tree stands there, accumulating deadwood, mute and rigid as an obelisk, but secretly it seethes, it splits, sucks and stretches; it heaves up tons and hurls them out in a green, fringed fling."

And I worry sometimes about having too many ideas. You may worry about having too few, but my experience with artists is that's its always too many. I suggest that for today, just today, you and I take a page (a leaf?) from the elm and just make what needs making, at whatever stage that is, for whatever purpose, and if the caterpillers come, or the shoot withers, or the bud never opens. Well, there are at least 5,999,999 more to come just this season.

The photo that sparked this thought  (and, now my desire to reread Dillard's classic narrative of her year on Tinker Creek) were taken on a campus walk with friend Susan on the Rutgers campus. This little garden must have a horticulture department at its source -- the variety of late summer pods, and blooms and leaves, colors and shapes and textures, is enough for a lifetime body of work. Surface design, indeed.

Does anyone know what any of these flowers are? They were all unfamiliar to me. And If that spiny leafed plant will grow in my climate, I want it. Surely that would be deer resistant!

Comments

[Mary Ann]

Ahhh, too many ideas! Have been working on three projects simultaneously. One is in the stitching stages, and my hands are not cooperating due to flare up of arthritis, so it was hung on the wall to dither for a week or so; one is cut out, waiting to be constructed; and the last I worked on this morning, cutting fabric, making layers, marking borders, getting ready to stitch. This last one has been in my head for awhile, working out the "how". They will all come together. And those are just the works in progress! Many more lurk. So I will follow your suggestion and just do what I can for today.

[naomi kornman]

It's funny this should be your topic today. I have been appliqueing (raw edges, so it's been kind of fun) all morning to finish a project for my neighborhood quilt shop. It's a wall hanging for an ovarian cancer fund raising project. Anyway, I vowed to finish it before I started on anything new. Of course there are bindings to sew and labels to attach also. So here's to completing most of them, at least, before I attack the new stuff.
But I must say that mindless binding work can often be a great time for trying to put some concrete thoughts to those new ideas that are still exciting,and somewhat daunting, vague notions in my head.
Naomi

[Laura]

Susie, What absolutely fascinating flowers! I really like the top green/thorny one. If you find out what it is and IF it will survive our summers I'd like to know! And you are most correct about the number of ideas spilling out constantly. Do you think we would ever be able to complete all the ideas that come to mind?! Aren't we lucky that we DO have so many ideas to select from.

[Heather P]

Susie, the second flower is cleome, also known as the spider flower. It can be grown in Texas, at least in the Northern part of the state. It's an annual and very easy to start from seed.

The orange flower in the third picture is an astilbe or feather flower. The white flower above it looks like lycoris, but I can't see any foliage so I'm not 100% sure. If it is a lycoris, it wouldn't have any foliage, just a flower stem. It does really well in my Texas garden. Mine has very dramatic scarlet flowers.

The pods look so familiar! I know I've seen that plant before. Now I'll be trying to remember it all day!

[Patricia]

Susie, what a lovely thought, comparing our ideas to the leaves on an elm. So many just waiting, some will fail, to be replaced by others. It's a hopeful, confident way to believe.
Thanks for sharing.