05/21/2019
By the end of four consecutive, 16 hour days, the flowers start to look a bit blurry. I stand in a beautiful disaster of thorns and compost at my feet for hours at a time. There are endless buckets of flowers drinking up that last bit of nourishment before their big debut-lots of flower pep talks happen during this time. Like clockwork, my shears manage to escape my hold and camouflage in the mess beneath me...somewhere, but where? Empty coffee cups just sit there, in my way, reminding me that, I AM 100% IN IT. Although my empty waterbottles are proof that I've been trying to stay hydrated, I'm always surprised by the fact that I never remember the act of actually drinking my water. Eating becomes a serious pain in my ass during a wedding and if it weren't for my husband and mum in law, I'd be happy going without it. I know, it's terrible, but who wants to stop the flow when you're finally making headway? No thank you. I panic or have a minor freak out at some point. I'm pretty sure it's normal and comes with the territory of working long hours with perishable goods, a pretty strict timeline, and expected pressure to create nothing less than beautiful florals for the most important day EVER. NO PRESSURE.
This is the beautiful disaster that inspires me every wedding I take on. I wouldn't change a thing! Actually, that's a lie, I'd definitely hire more help. Ha. Anyway, the point of this very long winded message is that in the end, once all the beauty is in its final destination, It's hard to see it with fresh eyes. SO, when emails with a sneak peek of our recent wedding through her eyes, I finally take a breath.
Thank you for this beautiful photo of bouquet. I was hoping it looked like that. :)
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