Winter Bouquets

Every Winter I wonder if it really was a bad idea to move up here to the ‘Hills, its so damn cold.  We moan about our desire to buy a cosy apartment somewhere in the inner city with central heating and carpet and nice modern insulation.  But then Spring comes and I relent, and then get all smug and think that yes what a good idea it was to live out here, as if we would ever live in the city when the sun is shining on the orchard and the birds are peeping.  Winter can be hard. And muddy.

Anyway, to cheer us all up here are some of my bouquets, all made in Winter.  The people at the Tulip farm in Victoria work their magic so that we can get them early (mine are still green points poking through the soil).  These parrot tulips and double tulips are off the dial, amazing.  And the waterlilies….

New Studio

What a weekend.  See, it’s Wednesday and I still haven’t caught up.  What a great party on Sunday to celebrate the new studio we have made for The Bluebell Society, and for Justin’s wooden wonders at Oak&Elm.  It’s so lovely to now have a space to work that is beautiful and warm. And for people to come and visit and drink tea and talk about flowers.

I made these flowers as party arrangements for the studio launch and they flashed their pink-petaled beauty through the crowd.  How different they look in these pics; I crept back into the studio the next morning and captured them in the silence, with daylight softly filtering down from above. 

Adelaide Cabaret Festival

Now that the wedding season is coming to a close over the Winter, things should be calming down a bit in the world of flowers.  Not for this little flower lady, however; I’ve just come out the other side of the busiest week in recent memory. One major project has been creating floral installations for the Adelaide Cabaret Festival Gala Opening and Moet & Chandon after-party. The flowers had to sit alongside David Bromley’s paintings and the brief was for flowers that created a sense of wonder.  Inspired by the vertical gardens of Patrick Blanc verticalgardenpatrickblanc.com I dressed tall pillars in sheaths of foliage and longiflorum lilies so that guests stumbled across them in the crowded room. See installation pics below.

Warm as toast

Autumn oranges, peach and hot violet-pink.  Softened by burgundy and blush cream.  Sometimes colour clashes are a good thing. This bouquet is quite traditional in style but the colours give it a contemporary edge. Fluro is really growing on me (and I never thought I’d say that).

When nature is enough.  Roses from the garden, as is, just for me.

Autumn Inspiration

These bouquets were inspired by the colours of Autumn (see pic of our farm below).  Not the rich reds and corals of European trees, but more the seasonal colours of the landscape around here at this time of year: white and grey skies, muted greens, and the rich golden highlights of late afternoon light.  That amazing apricot David Austin rose is the exact colour of the sun setting through the trees.

Autumn at our farm, Shepherd’s Rest.

A Wedding in the Park

These bouquets were a delight to make. The bride wanted bouquets that provided a sensual experience: texture, colour and scent.  Delicate rose petals with soft lamb’s ears foliage and seasonal seedheads, all in shades of pink and beige-plum.  Elegant, romantic and understated for a wedding in the park.  Autumn hydrangeas from the Adelaide hills provided the perfect colour-link to the mushroom plum of the bridesmaid’s dress. Hyacinths mingled throughout the bouquets so that their soft scent carried on the breeze in the afternoon sunshine; I hope that every time the bride smells hyacinths she will be carried back to her wedding day. Romantic bliss.

dark lady

Apart from the occasional smear of lipstick, I’m not really one for the colour red.  Not bright brash red anyway; there is a definite allure to the darker velvet tones sometimes found in old roses.  How surprised I was to stumble across this darker tone in a dahlia the other day.  Mysteriously vamp and sinister, with small yellow fangs in the centre. I can’t imagine her shrinking into a bouquet so I photographed her standing alone, draped in shadow.