I can't tell you how many plants I've killed, or how many times I moved my poor plants around the yard, rearranging and driving my family crazy sometimes... often, but gardening is healing and an art I seem to need to do. I have been digging and planting ever since I was a toddler at 5 years, begging to plant something in the back of our apartment building and then again when my parents bought our first house when I was 9 years old. Both of those requests and plans to plant didn't go so well. I learned plants need a lot more care, water and sunshine and good dirt and nutrition. I also needed a place of my own to plant. When I was 25 years old, I fell in love with a man who had an old house and and old yard, and I have been digging and planting it with him when we first got married and then with our two sons, and most often, the next 23 years by myself. It was one of my passions and I was full determination with my gardening books in tow. Sometimes, maybe often, I created a bit of chaos and concern and sometimes exasperation from others, as I blocked sprinkler heads and planted roses where the thorns could snag you, and I whined for more space and places to grow. Like the rest of my life, gardening reveals my heart and mind. Wanting to cram as many wonderful things and happenings into a space. Never really content to let things be. Always thinking of another wild idea. Sometimes failing, forgetting, taking on more than I can handle. Not wanting to leave a plant out, believing there's always room. Determined. Persistent. Stubborn. I believe somehow it can work out. I hope. I fail. Things sometimes work out and sometime things just don't. So today I am grateful for this time of year, when everything is bright green and fresh. New flowers and colors are clear and lovely. As I garden, this form of art does healing things in my heart. I think, daydream and recall old memories. I grieve and pray deep sorrows. Heartaches that sometimes fester get worked out in the dirt. Happy and grateful feelings too. Content by the way some of my life has gone and decisions I have made. Daydreaming of better days. Outside there in this therapy I do all these things. Covered in dirt and water. This is an art I seem to need to do...
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Brenda Trapani
Artist & Storyteller "The grass fadeth and the flower, but the word of our God shall stand forever." -Isaiah 40:8
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November 2017
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