Sometimes I tease myself that my bowls and jars of pot pourri are destined to be my Opus Magnum. I toy with titles for this great work of mine and wonder if I dare to call it, “My Leaves of Grass, with apologies to Walt Whitman.” That’s long winded but my creation is long in the making and, like the wind, changes its form frequently.
For 2 years and a bit I have been pressing and curating petals, flowers, pods, and seeds for my ever growing pot pourri collection.
Most of these pieces I look upon as lines for my version of a “Song of Myself”. Carefully chosen petals, flowers, feathers, bark, and pods represent seasons and moments in my garden, and in my life. They represent my abiding love of nature, my love of family, and my love of friends. In my bowls, there are representative remnants of grief and sorrow. And as much as there is sorrow, there is also deep joy and sweet memories of places and special connections.
My pot pourri, it seems to me, holds the story of my life. Occasionally, when the bowls start to overflow, I scoop up a few lines ( aka a handful ) of my story to give to a friend, especially a friend who may need some comfort or solace. The act of taking a handful is a comfort to me, too. It puts me in touch again with the feelings and emotions that came at the time of the picking and the pressing of the leaf or the flower.
Sometimes I tease myself about my Opus Magnum. And it makes me smile.
“Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, ” ( Song of Myself 1892 version )
Ps: Did you know that Walt Whitman’s title, Leaves of Grass, is a pun? Leaves are, of course, another name for pages. Grass is another word for works of minor value. I think my Opus Magnum project and this post qualify as “grass”.
pps Apologies for the quality of the photos. I am experimenting with posting from my mobile phone and my mobile phone photo gallery. Like the Opus, it’s a work in progress.
silkannthreades 
How lovely this is, Mandy! You have captured moments in time; so much better than photos because these petals and flowers and leaves are tangible and scented and can be shared with others. I hope you had a good Christmas and that this year is a better one than last year. xx
Thank you, Clare. Although I am late to respond you are not forgotten. Life happens and time gets taken up with more things than flowers. My collection is still growing but at the moment there is nothing to collect and press. Winter is here. 😦
This is wonderful!
Thank you! 🙂 🙂 🙂 I picked some more roses to press today. Can’t wait to add them to my collection.
I’d never thought of pot pourri in this way – probably because I’ve only experienced it in a bag from a shop. I love the way that yours captures your life and that you can give some of that love and care away when needed.
The best thing about looking at my pot pourri this way is that it reminds me how pretty life is even when it seems otherwise. 🙂
Oh it is so easy to see how much enjoyment this gives you … just lovely! Thanks so much for sharing 🙂
Thank you for coming by! Hope you are all keeping well at Frog Pond Farm. I picked up some tiny gum nuts on my walk today. They make a perfect addition to the every growing pot pourri.
Minor value? I think not! This is a beautiful, meaningful post, Gallivanta, and no minor work.
Thank you, Lavinia, for your generous and supportive words. Yesterday I picked some deep purple clematis to press for the pot pourri. They will be a reminder of how beautiful the clematis is this year.
It seems like this is a wonderful project, Anne. I used to dry my own petals. I have many rose bushes. Two of them have nice fragrances so I picked those. Did you do the painting of your header? Thank you for visiting my blog. Let’s keep in touch. Merry Christmas to you!
Lovely to see you here, Miriam. I am glad you came by. Your dried rose petals must have been lovely. I must remember to gather some petals from my roses which are in full bloom at the moment. Unfortunately, I can’t claim the header painting was done by me. It is by a NZ artist, Dorothy Nicoll. I don’t know much about her but the painting depicts the shop/business which my grandparents owned between about 1920 to 1948. The building still exists today but slightly altered because of earthquake damage in 2010.
The painting is lovely, Anne. I’m sure it means a lot to you that the painting depicts your grandparents history. It’s amazing that the building still exists today. Where is it located?
I have lots of old family photos of the shop but this painting came to me by chance a few years ago. The shop is in the small country township of Methven, Mid Canterbury, New Zealand. The mountain in the background is Mt Hutt which has a popular ski field. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methven,_New_Zealand
Are you in New Zealand right now, Anne? We hope to take a family vacation to south of Australia and NZ soon. We went north in Australia last time.
Yes, I am in NZ, Miriam. Message me if you come this way. 🙂
I will do that, Anne! Thank you. 🙂
I’ve never been a fan of pot pourri, but thinking about it, I realized I’ve only been exposed to the commercial sort. Inevitably the fragrances are too strong, and reek of commercialism; I’ll not even enter some stores that promote them. Yours, on the other hand, are delicate in shape and color, and I suspect equally delicate in fragrance. It’s a creative endeavor, and a wonderful way to make use of the gifts of your garden!
I am not a fan of the commercial sort either for the same reason as you; the strong fragrance. My pot pourri has barely any scent at all, apart from lavender. The other day I was toying with the idea of adding some coffee beans to the mix because a) I like the smell of coffee beans and b) I like the look of them. I haven’t made up my mind about that idea yet. 🙂
What a lovely idea and project, Anne. We have one potpourri which has orange slices in it that combine with some nice spice scents. Just the one though. 🙂 Merry Christmas!
I haven’t tried orange slices yet. That’s something to consider. Usually at Christmas time I stick cloves in a whole orange, just for the pleasure of the fragrance. I don’t think I will be doing that this year as I have decided to take a break from my usual Christmas routines in favour of doing nothing at all. That doesn’t preclude me from wishing you a Happy Christmas!
And a Happy Christmas to you too, Anne. The holiday seems better for contemplation than consumer insanity. I saw a meme a while back that said “If you think Christmas is being ruined by the supply chain problems maybe you don’t understand the true meaning of Christmas”. Or something like that. But I do think enjoying a bit of clove spiked orange aroma is fitting. 🙂
I will drink to that! Saying which I suddenly remember that for the 4th night in a row I have forgotten to drink a glass of the pre-Christmas wine I bought.
Well tip that glass, Anne! Salud! 🙂
You’ve inspired me to start pressing flowers and gathering garden gems. I love your creation, the way it ebbs and flows, and the way it’s shared, too, with others in need. I didn’t know that Leaves of Grass is a pun. Beautiful post, Amanda.
Alys, you have such a lovely garden that I can already see in my mind’s eye all the wonderful flowers you will gather and press and then use with your special creative flair. I didn’t know that Leaves of Grass was a pun until recently. I read about it here but also somewhere else which I can’t locate at the moment. https://trinitycollegelibrarycambridge.wordpress.com/2019/05/29/walt-whitmans-leaves-of-grass/
Thank you, Amanda for your kind words and also for sharing the link. It’s fun discovery new things. I’m always tickled to discover the origins of a word or a phrase. Happy Boxing Day and soon a new year.
🙂 🙂 🙂
simply magnifique!!! welcome back, dear friend! ❤ @"My pot pourri, it seems to me, holds the story of my life." – yep… ❤
Thank you, dear friend. I hope you are finding many flowers for your hair in SF. 🙂
These are gorgeous! Truly. You can tell they’re chosen with care.
What a kind comment. Thank you. I am glad you can tell.
They are so pretty! I like how you arranged them. You have a nice collection of them.
Thank you, YC. The petals and pieces of nature bring me pleasure and I enjoy arranging and playing with them.
Whatever you choose to call them, Anne, they’re very beautiful. I love the faded colours and the joy they bring you. Wishing you peace and happiness this festive season.
Peace and happiness to you, too. Your comment makes me think that I may have more fun another day changing the title of my Opus Magnum! Why stick with one title if another more interesting one comes along!
My dear friend, a profound reflection on the ebb and flow of life, something that nature teaches us with every season – of planting and harvesting, of beginnings and endings. I am grateful that you have shared your Opus Magnum with me. Sending many hugs along with my thanks for our friendship.
“Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.”
Song of Myself, Walt Whitman.
My thanks to you, too. Sending virtual handfuls of my potpourri across the world to you.
I just love this alternative way of chronicling your life, particuarly the comparison with Leaves of Grass and lines of poetry.
Thank you, Liz, for your appreciation of my project. It makes me smile to think how long it took me to realise that I was chronicling.
You’re welcome, Mandy.
🙂 🙂 🙂
Beautifully done photos. I use my phone for them too. Nature crafts is something I’ve always enjoyed and potpourri was so popular so many years ago. You make me want to start again.
I do hope you will start again. 🙂 My pot pourri doesn’t follow a conventional recipe; it’s an ‘anything goes’ creation which makes it a relaxing project which can flow according to my mood.
I admire what you created with the dried petals. Their ephemeral existence received more permanence through your work of art.
Thank you, Peter. I often wish I could hold onto certain beautiful things or experiences forever. This is one way of making them last just a little bit longer.
Though your petals necessarily fade, your phrases “curating petals” and “petals in time” are fresh.
Walt Whitman grew up on Long Island (like me), and you can visit his birthplace in Huntington:
https://www.waltwhitman.org/
Thank you. I was rather pleased with ‘petals in time’. 😀 Thank you also for the link to Walt Whitman’s birthplace. I enjoyed this description of the house. https://www.waltwhitman.org/about/about-the-birthplace/
It’s strange to hear Walt Whitman referred to as Walter, and Junior at that.
Indeed, it doesn’t sound quite right from this distance in time.
Dear Gallivanta
What a great way to honour Walt Whitman!
We press leaves of flowers from our garden in books we just read at the time. If we have a look into these books again it reminds of the time and situation when we read this book.
Wishing you a cosy pre-Christmas time
The Fab Four of Cley
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
My best wishes to you, Fab Four of Cley. I love that you press your garden flowers in the pages of the books you are reading. I must remember to do that. I have a few pressed flowers in my commonplace books. They are sweet reminders of a time and a place.
Beautiful! We are great collectors of dried seed pods but I put them in a china container. I love your idea of the crystal bowl with the dried petals. It is a much better way to enjoy the contents. Amelia
Thank you, Amelia. A china container is certainly a great way to keep dried seed pods. My pot pourri in bowls is very exposed to light and dust but fortunately there is very little moisture in the air ( except for today when we are having the worst rain and flooding since 1968!) The crystal bowl (inherited from my great aunt) is a favourite of mine. I love the way it catches the afternoon light when I have it on the dining table.
The light on the crystal bowl is my favorite moment in this post!
I am glad you like the effect of the light, Liz. That photo was taken when I was getting started with my project. I was in mourning at the time and the contents of the bowl were filled with flowers pressed from the bouquets sent to me when my mother died. Plus a few of her favourite roses from my garden. The table was covered with a purple cloth, purple being one of my mother’s favourite colours. The comfort gathered from those flowers and the sun sparkle was immense.
That does sound like a big comfort.
🙂 🙂 🙂
That is so lovely and creative. This is something I would like to do. Once I move, I will have a bigger garden and I can plant and enjoy. I have seeds here already to sow, I can’t wait. I always loved flower pressing as my dad did – he sent pressed flowers from Africa during the war to his mum. They are still in a pictureframe in my mum’s house. A little treasure. 🙂 I love your pot pouri and it is definitely an Opus Magnum!
How lovely that you will soon have a bigger garden. I can imagine how much pleasure that will bring you. I would love to see the pressed flowers your father sent home from Africa. Do you recognise any of the flowers? The flowers I remember most from our time in Egypt are the roses. And there was lots of rosemary in certain areas.
In Germany htere is a catholic festival called ‘Fronleichnam’ where they make flower carpets out of petals. When I visitied my mum, I witnessed it once , it was wonderful and colourful. It was on this post: https://utesmile.wordpress.com/2018/06/02/corpus-christi-fronleichnam/
I thought I had taken a picture of the framed flower, but can’t find it at the moment. Once I have it I shall let you know. I probably want to take that as a memory of my dad. I remember he wrote 1942 underneath.
Ah, yes, I remember your post on that lovely festival. Your grandmother must have been so happy when she received the pressed flowers from your father. Did I ever tell you that I visited the German War Cemetery at El Alamein? It was a sobering and emotional experience. https://www.tracesofwar.com/sights/4324/German-War-Cemetery-El-Alamein.htm
I can imagine, I didn’t know there was one. I have been in Verdun and it is a very sovering experience and reminds you of your loved ones who were in it, and the people who went missing or died in the wars.
And your comment reminds of the song Where Have All the Flowers Gone which I fell in love with as a child. Today I discovered this version by Marlene Dietrich. I think it is lovely. https://youtu.be/YIoF-Q6yGpk
How beautiful – the gathering and the creating, done with so much care and love. Story bowls of comfort. I love the purple poppy petal.
What a lovely comment, Juliet. Thank you. I had a magnificent crop of dark purple poppies this year. I dried as many petals as I could because I wanted to hold on to their satiny luxuriousness for as long as I could. I am happy with the way they responded to the drying process.
I love the long process of growing, drying, selecting, and arranging. It sounds very soulful.
It is a balm and a tonic for the soul.
This is so lovely and a beautiful tribute to Whitman. I inherited from my grandfather a first edition of Leaves with the author’s hand written notes part of the text. I treasure it. It is wonderful to see a post from you featuring your unique creative kindness. Merry Christmas Mandy.
Oh, what a treasure you have in your hands! ( I am trying to refrain from pure envy!) I don’t know Whitman well at all but what I do know fascinates me. I have had a creative blank, or so I thought, for months and months. It was only when I was sorting through my pressed flowers that I realised that my creative life was not blank but had been making a temporary home in my pot pourri project. A Merry Christmas to you, too.