Monday, November 4, 2013

Imperfection Visualized) or “As Is” Gardening



I was told by a mentor / friend that Claude Monet, had a signature use of misplaced color.  He purposefully interjected, “islandized”, “orphanized” or in some way “stranded” a color somewhere in every painting.  He did this because he believed it was necessary to do this as a reminder to the onlooker and himself that “It” whatever “It” may be, is never perfect. We have to accept life and gardening “as is”.

I had come to like this thought process because whether I liked it or not it had already become part of my “style” of designing/ gardening. Perhaps it began as an AADD symptom, a lack of follow through, a short attention span or just being a newbie without the necessary skill set to be sure to check every tag in a flat when choosing pre-flowering plants.  But an odd thing kept happening, as my design opportunities “grew”, so did my “mistakes.” ( Humm, a true refection of life, - the longer, the more!)

 And I began to relate to the unintentional rebel!  I saw the randomness as a natural portrayal of marking the birthplace of a future plant colony. I thought in my youth “well someone has to be first”, this to me was God’s Hand and His placement of a pioneer plant.  It became a visual of how I saw myself, an ambassador, a pioneer, but never an orphan, like my mother.  I had family, even if there was, at times, significant distance between myself and my siblings.

Now with my mother gone and my dad passing do I see this “As Is” gardening with a glimmer of pessimism.  Did I sentence those plants to a life of loneliness?  Was I simulating an imagined promise or portraying nature’s allowance for a certain percentage of efforts to come to a natural real life, historic end. Are these imperfections the reflections of my own relationship flaws?

In my effort to do things right, I have made so many mistakes.  I followed work plans, business plans, family plans, and now my dad’s plan.  I followed directions so well I am stranded, islandized and practically orphanized.  I am staring at another completed project that has left me alone.

I can see I have become for real the unintentional rebel.  I am in what feels like a wrong or wronged place.  It is scary to be away from the familiar.  I don’t know how it actually happened but I am here and they are elsewhere. The gap is huge so I look for comfort in my God who knows me and controls everything for my best.  He knows my flaws and loves me “As Is”.  So as I walk pass a flowerbed with a lone stranded color I remember all the imperfect places where  I’ve left my mark and wonder what ever happened and am grateful that gardening is an “as is” process never finished and I too am a “work in progress”