Every spring feels a little miraculous. Not because flowers bloom, they always do, but because after winter I somehow forget. Then one morning the garden is alive again. Peonies rise from the earth, ferns unfurl, and this year, alongside the flowers I planted, came unexpected volunteers. Seeds carried by wind, water, birds, or chance, finding new homes in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. The garden was full of surprises.
Creativity feels much the same. Some ideas are planted intentionally and nurtured for years. Others simply appear. This spring brought both. New peony bowls emerged petal by petal, woodland favorites returned with their tree branch rims, lanterns filled with dancing moths took shape, and a raven appeared, opening a book on a series of new hanging shelves. Some designs felt carefully cultivated. Others felt like volunteers, arriving from unseen places and insisting on being made.
Bloom is a collection about that mysterious persistence of life and creativity. About what returns after difficult seasons. About the things we plant with intention and the beautiful surprises that find us anyway.
