A couple of months ago I had a dream that I had flowers covering my hair and face. In it, my friend walked up to me, lifted me up over his head, spun me around, and then accidentally dropped me on the ground. I wasn't hurt or mad or embarrassed. I laughed, shook it off, did a little spin and went along my way. I remember feeling that the flowers cushioned the blow, that no part of the fall negatively impacted whatever I chose to do next. I was carried forward by the beauty of those flowers. That morning, I awoke with an idea for a photograph and weeks later- armed with Myriah photographing and Matthew assisting- I think we nailed the overall feeling I had in my dream...
I have Matthew to thank for knowing how to work floral magic. Isn't he something?
I'd like to think this is all a metaphor for beaming out some sort of inner beauty and allowing that to carry us through crappy stuff with grace and hope. I'm not sure how graceful I am, but I sure am hopelessly hopeful. So there's that.
A big thanks to Myriah for snapping these images!
