Growing

I am not a gardener, but I would like to be, though I often find myself dreaming of the fruits without considering all the work required to harvest it. Not that I am afraid to work, and not that I am lazy, but perhaps I am a bit too optimistic with my time and energy. While studying in Vancouver, BC, I lived in a little house with a decent sized backyard and a garden plot that was entirely overgrown. I was so keen to have a garden one year during my degree that I spent cumulative hours digging and pulling and planning and planting. I was so happy with my garden, but after doing the hard work once, I employed the “set and forget” strategy. My little seeds and plants did okay for a while, but without consistent work and picking, they revolted a bit and I was left with holes in my leaves and bugs on my stalks and weeds in between.

I am not a gardener, but I would like to be, so last year I dug up the little raised bed in my south facing yard above the river. I planted onions and beets and carrots and spinach and wildflowers. I worked so hard to get the soil ready, and I was so excited to plant the seeds, but I found I rarely remembered to water it after a long day of work and when I did remember–once I was comfy inside–I figured the eventual rain would be enough. Weeding? Oops. I was always too tired. The little sprouts would be okay…right?

This admission doesn’t paint me pretty, does it? But I think I am pretty normal; somehow, despite my best efforts and best intentions, I have not always been diligent enough to remain consistent to my goal. It happens. Well, this year will be different–I saved the cardboard egg carton, I bought the best dirt, and I planted a variety of heirloom tomato seeds. I've been carefully watering them and put the carton inside a clear plastic bag to maintain humidity, and I have been placing the bag/carton combo outside in the sunshine each day and bringing it in at night. For the first time ever, I started seeds indoors, and they have sprouted! I have yet to build the raised garden planter for the deck, but soon it will be full of carrot, beet, spinach, and lettuce seeds, and several little tomato plants. I am not a gardener, but I would like to be, and I am hopeful I will grow along with the plants. I can’t wait to put in the work and to witness the growth and the beauty…and the yield. 

I think that continual effort is a large component of success, not just a factor of it; that it is not a result, it’s a process. Success is a word that encompasses both the final outcome, and the long, slow, slog it took to get there, the former impossible without the latter, the happy part only brought into existence by the hard part. 

I have been dreaming of becoming a surface pattern designer and professional artist for years now. And while I have been putting in the work–and have been happy to do so–energy, creativity, and motivation are all things that ebb and flow. Acknowledging that has been relatively simple, accepting it less so. This year has been different though; I feel like I am on the cusp of something great and I am thrilled to chase whatever it is. There are many seeds to sow this year, and many ways to grow.

For the first time ever, I created a fabric collection, Rabbit Garden, which is available in my Spoonflower shop. I hand drew every element and hand designed each pattern, and it was a joy to do so! Bringing those little blossoms and leaves and rabbits to life is something I’ll never forget, along with seeing my very first fabric samples. You know, it’s surreal to hold your own fabric; to hold something in your hands that you have for so long held only in your mind and in your heart. 

I was not a surface pattern designer, but I wanted to be. So I have been putting in the time, I am taking the classes, I am learning the programs, and most wonderfully, I am creating the art. It takes effort and it takes faith that something good will come from that effort, but I truly can’t wait to put in the work and to witness the growth and the beauty…and the yield, understanding that the ‘hard’ precedes ‘happy.’