The Tarot Series with Esther Jean Designs | The Sun
hair accessories and model: esther jean / photography and flowers: saria dy / dress: adored vintage

Love Begins
trying on a metaphor
Mike Driver

if i look back, i am lost

Discoholic 🪩

Andulka
hello vonnie
No title available

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

shark vs the universe
taylor price
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

JVL
todays bird

Janaina Medeiros
h
Monterey Bay Aquarium

JBB: An Artblog!
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@rueanafel
The Tarot Series with Esther Jean Designs | The Sun
hair accessories and model: esther jean / photography and flowers: saria dy / dress: adored vintage
Ramblings | On Nesting
Alas! I'm finally beginning to sink into home. And as the days get colder and shorter, I continue to build and settle into my nest. Slowly I've been acquiring more furniture, adding to my collection of keepers and favorite from living in this city for the last seven years. Every piece has a story, memory, purpose.
We've put a lot of blood and sweat into this house so far. For the first week we repainted the whole thing. Rooms that were teal and lilac covered with different shades of white. My room was a pink and I painted it a dark, charcoal grey. Shelves went up quickly, books and knick knacks put away on them. Kyle's mom made us a new seven foot table along with a couple benches to match. One of the benches now has plants sitting on it, and every once in a while my cat, Sajji, will perch and watch the world outside.
At times I feel guilty about my nesting ways. I think of all those in the world who were born in a space in this system we live in where they were in a place of brokenness. And from there, continually kept in a world of destruction, either by themselves or outside forces. Sometimes I feel I need to purge, fast, only have the bare minimum, starve as they do, in any way not live luxuriously. I don't necessarily think I live in luxury, but it is undeniable that I have privileges. If I'm able to have requirements for moving into homes, like having big windows or a fireplace, or putting flowers on the mantle and plants in a sun room, I am fortunate.
There's a heavy weight person carries with oneself, knowing the only reason why they find themselves in a current place is because their mother dedicated her life to give them a better one. It is something that haunts me, in both good and bad ways. But, I've learned to live with my privileges (and the guilt that follows them). I've swallowed the idea that it's a shame to not enjoy the life my ancestors built for me, despite the centuries of colonization and racism they faced. Above all, it's important to realize my advantages, the simple pleasure I have that many do not, be grateful for that. To not live a jaded life, blind from the reality outside of the comforts of my home.
All my money has been funneling to home. But now with the holidays and He Who Must Not Be Named coming into presidency, it's all being shifted towards gifts and causes. But, that doesn't mean I'm still dreaming up purchases for another rug to lay in the living room or for a hutch to put in the dining room. What can I say, I'm part Cancerian, a nester at heart.
*The ceramic pieces are made by Sarah of Notary Ceramics! I just met her, and she is one of the sweetest and coolest ladies I've met in a while.
Ramblings | On Feminism
I’m a feminist. It actually took me a while to claim the title, feminist. There was a period when I would say I only promoted feminism. Mainstream media’s negative portrayal of feminism was successful in putting a bad taste in my mouth. Like many others, the term was synonymous with man hating, and all I knew of it was that it helped get women the right to vote, fought to free women's sexuality, and was pro-choice. After my first year of studying feminist theory in University, I finally discovered bell hooks and Audre Lorde. It was then and being introduced to intersectional feminism that I finally (deeply) connected with feminism. I became engulfed within it, it felt like the missing piece to put a finger on of all my frustrations and sorrows in the world. Like Betty Frieden's "The Problem That Has No Name" my experiences were given a name and with that, I found the tools to examine them in. I finally learned that feminism is much more than equal pay and reproductive rights. A that point, in 2009, colleagues had already began recognizing a “fourth wave” of feminism. This fourth wave spoke to broader issues of gender, race, colonialism, male feminism, spirituality, and so on and so forth. Little had I known then, that the work had been done, it just took some time to discover. I write this post to those of you who are disconnected to feminism, who are interested in feminism, who have dipped your toes into feminism, and/or currently claim to be a feminist. It's a call to action, of urging all of you to either begin to or continue to educate or activate yourself. Now more than ever do I feel that the United States, nay the world, needs feminism.
In 2010 had I said the word “intersectionality" to anyone who wasn’t in my feminism circles, they would have had no clue what I was talking about. The term was coined way before my time, and is wonderfully now recognize by more and more people. Feminism has a long history, and slowly, we (women) have made big changes. I'm in awe when I remind myself that the women's suffrage movement began in 1848, and it wasn't until 1920 that we got the right to vote. The movement has undergone many phases, and there are many branches of it. Yet then, and still today, the idea of feminism, specifically the mainstream view (through corporate media and social media) of feminism, is sometimes limited to such a shallow version of itself, depending on your individual social media echoing chamber. Feminism isn't only for and about women (although it may have started that way), but it now fights for the end of oppression towards many identities. Today, it serves women just as much as men. It is now not only a women's movement, but it is a movement that works to dismantle systems in place that are the shackles to all people, of all race, gender, sexuality, and class.
Back in July my friend, Rodellee, asked me if I would write out my definition of feminism. I’ve been working on it since then, and although it’s always changing (as I’m only a constant growing human), this is what I have. It was built on my education of feminist theory, as well as own personal experience as a heterosexual, middle class, immigrant Asian American woman.
Ultimately, feminism is an movement that works towards ending social, political, and economic oppression.
First, I want to highlight that feminism is a social movement. It is not simply a title. A feminist is a person who actively participates in working towards ending social, economic, and political oppression. I believe one of many duties of a feminist is to constantly check oneself, one's environment, and the way those exist independently and interdependently in the schema of feminist values. Along with that, I believe a feminist continues to educate oneself and seek ways one is capable and willing to fight the good fight. I want to note that I do not believe there are requirements or bullet checkpoints to being a feminist. There is not some list you have to follow, and if you fall short of one of the items, it does not means you're not a feminist. I do, however, believe claiming to be a part of a movement holds self implicated responsibilities. Since feminism is a social movement, social change is inherent within it. In order to create social change, action is necessary. Feminism grew out of action. I find inaction so common among many people I know who identify as feminist. Because of the current political climate of the United States, I wanted to put action at the forefront of this definition. Action has many different faces, which I'll be touching on further down.
That being said, feminism, originally started by woman activists, is now absolutely inclusive and serves all genders, sexualities, classes, races, nationalities, spiritualities, and many other identities. When thinking about feminism and the social, economic, and political state western society is in, I use bell hooks' claim of society as an imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. These are the hegemonic systems and narratives I believe to be intact right now, and that have been, and if we do nothing, will continue to be. Feminism works to examine and question these narratives that have been set, and strives to assign the freedom to redefine them for ourselves and individually, so no person experiences the bind and shame of not fitting into prior boxes created by outside parties. In short, it works to dismantle social norms. To show us that normalizing racism, sexism, islamophobia, homophobia, and many other ideologies existing in the world that are rooted in hate is not normal. Feminism is intersectional, recognizing that oppression is not a linear binary, rather a multidimensional spectrum.
I believe that ideology that promote hierarchy, prejudice, hatred, and exclusivity are not feminist.
Lastly, I believe that the opposite of patriarchy isn't matriarchy; it is fraternity and sorority. Yes, empowerment is important and crucial, but the end goal is ultimately mutuality, equality, and support. In continuing to make allies and build community, we are winning. When we become aware and share that awareness, we are winning. Social change is happening. When we love one another, we are fighting patriarchy and hatred. When we listen to each other's stories we are overcoming ignorance. Do not let anyone tell you feminism doesn't work or is irrelevant. When you hear your own voice rise out of you and you feel the urge to share it with others, feminism is doing its job.
I spent the early part of my adult life in university, studying Sociology (the study of how society developed, is structured, and ways it functions, and of social issues) and Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies (essentially feminist studies). If you follow me on Instagram, you may have read a small post I made about it once. What I also mentioned in that post, was that for most of my life, I wanted to be a human rights lawyer. That turned into journalist, which turned into teacher. Somewhere down the road, I began to despise academia and could not see myself in law school, or any type of schooling really.
My professor from my Intro to Sociology class, Randy Blazak (actually the first proclaimed male feminist I had ever met), began the course saying something along the lines of, “You will never see and walk in the world the same again.” He was right. It was like a seeing the sun for the first time, everything exposed. From then on, my world view was tainted. Every movie I watch, advertisement I saw, conversation I had, all of it I filter through a sociological perspective. The way I view language will never be as it was.
People say things like, “It’s just gender, just don’t think about it.” Or, “I don't know how people get so worked up about this stuff, it doesn’t affect me.” But in reality, it affects everyone. It affects all of us. To say one is outside of it, means one has not opened their eyes. Have you ever felt ashamed of something because you felt it would question your gender? I’ve dated men who won’t talk about their feelings, because it’s not masculine to do so. I’ve also heard women bash other women for not wearing dresses or “getting ready” because it makes them not “pretty”, which is essentially discrediting to their femininity. And these are only examples to tackle ideas of gender. In both cases, one doesn’t automatically think, “I feel this way because patriarchy is a dominant force that makes me feel this shame. I should challenge patriarchy and define what gender means to myself.” Simply by looking at these examples, and examples similar to them, through a feminist lens, one can begin to recognize and ultimately dismantle patriarchy’s effects in our lives. Because imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy resonates within all of us.
Academia molded my mind to analyze the way which all of society interacts, and how we fit into that. Much of it focusing on power dynamics, how social norms created and implemented by people are oppressive. The air I breathed was all about social change and justice. I contributed in every way I could and camped at the park during Occupy Portland (I’d get ready at my University’s Recreational Center bathroom before class), attempting to infiltrating myself in the movement. I walked the streets of many protests. I got angry, frustrated, and eventually burnt out.
I have learned that activism comes in many different forms and that social change is not a utopia one reaches, rather it’s a slow process. Activism can be volunteering at a women’s support center, marching the streets, paying attention to patriarchal themes used in films, sparking conversations with family members on feminism, teaching your child about consent, speaking up against someone at a bar, not buying products from specific companies, and even loving oneself’s physical appearance despite the many different ways beauty companies tell us not to. Like I said before, it has many different faces. Whats important isn’t what others are doing, rather the ways you can make change in your life. Rumi has a quote that I love and was influential towards my outlook of activism. He said, “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” True change comes from within. It is not one person's burden to change the entire world. Along the road, I found that my activism doesn’t come in the form of being a lawyer. It’s in the form of reclaiming my femininity and engulfing myself within the ancient, traditionally feminine, practice of floral design. It’s my way of reconnecting to nature, of slowing down, of being present in this time, in this season, of supporting local, of finding community, of creating, of challenging myself, of bringing beauty into the world, of echoing the voices of my matrilineal line, of connecting with my sisters, and it has become a platform to share all this with others.
And so, because feminism is now an all inclusive movement, it's important to continue making allies and fighting patriarchy and oppression in many angles, any that apply to us. As Audre Lorde famously said, “For the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change. And this fact is only threatening to those women who still define the master's house as their only source of support." If there's anything I've learned as a self proclaimed feminist for the last seven years, it's the importance of stories and sharing them. I do believe our individual world views must be shared, and in doing so we create a rich form of education for others. It can allow us to build bridges and branch outside of the hegemonic narratives. It gives us a platform of awareness, understanding, and compassion. Many of us do not identify with imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. It is a system that was built to and actively oppresses so many of us. We find ourselves outside of it. Therefore, we must strengthen those narratives outside of it. I urge you, reader, if you've gotten this far, tell your story. The personal is political, do not forget that. Find ways to infiltrate feminism into your life. Find meaning within it, restructure your relationships around it, use it as an outline to raising your children, or like myself and many others, build a business from it or incorporate it into your business.
Everlasting Bouquets
A signature RUE ANAFEL Everlasting Bouquet.
I began RUE only selling dried bouquets through a friend's booth at an antique mall, and I'm offering for them to be shipped anywhere. Filled with flora and foliage I've dried myself or that is locally bought, wrapped in paper, and hand tied with twine. They can be put into a vase as decoration, hung on a wall, or gifted. I've had brides order them as gifts to their maids.
Each order is made individually and will not look exactly the same as the next. Feel free to write details if you prefer a certain color palette or flower. I can not make any guarantees I can abide to your wishes, but I will try my best! Please allow up to one week for order to be processed and shipped.
Carefully packaged to get to you safely. I haven't had problems before, but I can not make promises that they'll get to you in one perfect piece.
Ramblings | On Floral Design
It is not difficult to arrange flowers. Truly, everyone can do it. I woke up one random day wanting to be a floral designer, so I went to the store, bought flowers, and arranged them. However, the simple act of arranging them did not make me a floral designer. Arranging flowers and designing a floral arrangement are similar but different things.
Although I still look at photographs arrangements I make and always feel they can be better (the curse of a perfectionist, I'm sure many of you know the feeling), I like to think my eye has been improved (and is still being finely tuned). I've learned that designing a floral arrangement is actually a very difficult thing to do. So many factors come into play, and many of them I haven't mastered myself, I don't know if very many people have (which is half the fun in it). It starts with finding sources for product. Not only product that is beautiful, interesting, and different, but will last. I'm constantly in search for product one can't just find at your everyday grocery, or even at the flower market. Including both flora and foliage. After that, it's cutting and buying stems at the right age, picking out the right palette, making sure the color variation blends and separates well, that it has the right contrasts and in betweens. And finally, arranging them. One can have the most beautiful product, but someone designing with an understanding of design, color, movement, and all the things that makes design outstanding and someone who just throws something together would make two completely different arrangements (and that's why you hire a professional, people!).
Many people think (I've heard it many times, and I'm sure many of you florists have too) that being a floral designer is an easy job. I always get, "I should just do what you do! Looks so easy, I get to play with flowers all day." But, in reality, it's not. It isn't twirling around in a dress playing with flowers. Before the actual designing, there are hours of marketing, consultations, writing proposals, wringing out the mind's creative juices for ideas, trying to figure out logistics of actual installations and arranging (for them to be safe and look effortless), searching for places to source product, and the list goes on. After that, it's 4am mornings, hours of processing, trying to keep flowers alive, hours of cleaning up, having to figure out how to safely deliver without destroying anything, the manual labor of hauling it all and cleaning up messes, and then there is the final set up.
I initially began writing this post with the intention that it'd be about design, but it's turned into an aspect of what it means to be a professional floral designer. This topic can have a book written on it (it probably has!), in addition to the subject of floral design being a fine art form, just like painting, that one can practice and practice and practice. I guess both topics go hand in hand and are equally undermined.
Portland Florist and Stylist | Setting Your Holiday Dining Table
It's November already, can you believe it? After traveling all summer, I'm completely ready to nest and sink into home. Being one of my only friends from back home that actually left and stayed out of my hometown, I tend to get lots of visitors that come and stay with me. This autumn I have a slew of friends and family visiting for the holidays, so that means many dinners will be had in my dining room. Aside from posting an easy way for you to make a flower arrangement order for your holiday table, I decided to make a little post on a simple and easy way to set your dining room table this holiday season!
Setting up a, (as my friend likes to playfully tease) "Instagrammable", table is extremely simple. The most important part is focusing on tones, texture, dimension, and above all, simplicity. Everything used in this photograph are things I have in my home, and you may also or at least can easily acquire.
I'm a fan of neutral colors, like beiges and creams. You don't have to be, you can love color, and still have a focused set up. The idea is to not be colorful, but tonal. Rather than having all the elements: tablecloth, plates, cups, etc. being different colors, try using different shades of the same spectrum. I like to keep my pieces neutral to give more attention to the arrangement and food on the table. Similar to why food establishments like to use white plates or art galleries tend to be white. It makes the accents stick out more.
I'm a big texture person. I feel everything, and the first things I notice in a photograph are texture. I often use lots of linen and layer different weights and tones for different consistencies. Embrace the wrinkles. Toss around the tablecloth for a casual and effortless look.
Also for texture, I used different types of plates and serving platters, from stoneware to glazed, to add to that. The plates I used are some I recently got from Notary Ceramics, a local Portland ceramicist who I (somehow) recently discovered and is now my favorite! They're a rougher stoneware with a matte finished, which is a perfect addition, as plates tend to be shiny and glossy. I love investing in small pieces like this, I feel like it makes my set ups more meaningful. I also try to use different natural materials, like cloth, wood, ceramic, glass, and metal. Never plastic.
I feel like the smallest detail, yet makes so much of a difference, on a tablescape is dimension. This can go for any styling and designing everything, but by adding different levels, a set up is so much more special. I add books underneath my tablecloths to help give things a rise as well as cake stands.
And now, I always add a flower arrangement. Flowers take every table setting to the next level. I like to design high and low, so an arrangement can fill in open spaces horizontally and vertically. Through sourcing product, I always keep in mind the time of the year to have the arrangement tell that story. I like to think of it similar to a clock, with enough attention to detail one can see what time of the year it is through my designs.
And last but not least, a bit of light and warmth to for coziness and romance. I'm always on the lookout for different and interesting candlesticks and candle holders. I actually made this candlestick myself, just dipping beeswax. The holder is made by Notary Ceramics, like the plates.
Then again, above all, remember simplicity. Try not to add to many little decorations on the table. If one remembers to make what's already on the table special, there is no need for anything else. That can be handmade flatware, interesting silverware, vintage pie cutters, or hand sewn napkins. Try not to clutter. Let the food and flowers steal the attention, and guests and conversations will carry the rest of the entertainment.
To order your RUE ANAFEL holiday arrangement, click over to our "Holiday Order" section or here! Now that you know how to set your table, I'll handle the rest.
Happy feasting!
Holiday Vase Arrangement
Have a RUE ANAFEL arrangement of locally sourced and seasonal market flowers and foliage displayed on your holiday table this year!
This year, the arrangements have warmer colors: a spectrum of yellows, browns, oranges, and beiges with hints of cranberry, plum, and darker reds. Each arrangement is unique and intentionally made, we do not use a standardized recipe. It will not look exactly like the one pictured.
FOR THANKSGIVING DAY ORDERS:
Deadline to put in an order is Sunday, November 20th. Delivery will take place on Wednesday, November 23rd from 8:00am - 10:00am and 06:00pm to 8:00pm. Please specify a preferred time, if there is one.
FOR ORDERS BEFORE OR AFTER THANKSGIVING DAY:
Orders must be made three days in advance. Please note we only deliver 8:00AM - 10:00 AM and 6:00PM - 8:00PM.
Please see link to make sure you are within our delivery radius:
RUE ANAFEL delivery area
Otherwise, we can arrange a pick up time at our St. John's studio located next to Cathedral Park. To do that, please write a note of it in the order then send a message to [email protected].
small: approx 8x8 | medium: approx 10x10 | large: approx 12x12
Photographed is a large size arrangement. Delivery and vase is included in purchase.
Ramblings | On Finding Home
Well, I've been away from home for more than two months now, and I return in less than three weeks. In short, It's been a whirlwind. My steps into this trip were with almost no expectations, with the exception of a romanticized view of Europe. But alas, with development and globalization, I have found this world to be much smaller than I imagine, while at the same time my personal point of view grows bigger.
The trail I've left goes through Berlin, Bamberg, Munich, Zurich, Geneva, Zermatt, Lyon, Annecy, lots of places here and there between France and Switzerland, much of the Southern coast of France including Cannes, Marseilles, and Nice, Monaco, Aix-En-Provence, Paris, Amboise, Amsterdam, Dordrecht, and now I am in a small farming village called Heerhugoward in Nord Holland. Next is Hamburg and Copenhagen, maybe hitch hiking my way there via Amsterdam. Then a week in LA before home in Portland.
I've fallen in love with lots of places, but not like I have with Holland. With the changing of Portland (it moving away from the characteristics I initially adored from the inflation of new residents), I find myself dreading to go back more and more. And so, this entire trip has almost been a long journey to find somewhere new to settle and dig my roots into. I fell in love with Paris, but the hobbit in me fell even harder for Amsterdam, then even more so for the Dutch countryside.
The past couple days I've been staying in a Pipowagen, a small Dutch wagon, on a farm here in Heerhugoward own by a husband and wife team. Kees, the husband, has been incredibly generous, providing an endless supply of fresh eggs and a tour of his home. He showed us the old windmills, and an area he grew up in as a child called the Realm of a Thousand Islands, Broek op Langedijk in North Holland. It was a place where the people dug out swamps in the earlier centuries, building literally a thousand islands. Canals are combed through the land, and in his day, they would travel by boat. Even garbage was picked up using boats. He talked about how the canals would freeze in the winter, and everybody, kids and elders, would ice skate (as we're told, the Dutch are ice skating people). Neighbors would provide hot chocolate and bread, he told us the Dutch name, but I forgot it already. It's changed a lot since he was a child some forty years ago, several canals filled in to make roads and more land, bridges made of concrete instead of wood, and newer houses now line the street. However, watching the sun set in big sky with the background of a tree spotted valley as a young man rides a boat through a canal leaving a ripple made me feel like there's still so much pureness and joy.
Today mon amour et moi went on a little bike ride through Kees' neighborhood. The area use to be a place of vegetable farmers, but in the past years the people have shifted to flowers, as there is not as much of a demand for vegetables from Holland as there use to be. I foraged some weeds among an area packed with industrial flower farms and greenhouses, then went back to the Pipowagen to play with them among bread, wine, and some rose petal jam I got from a grocery store in Paris. After spending almost two months in cities, my nature loving Oregonian heart was wanting just this, a little taste of home.
Holland has won me over. The windmills, the clouds, the tulips, and cows, all of it. I'm already dreaming about returning here one day.
Ramblings | On Storytelling
I come from a family that loves telling stories. Countless hours were spent sitting at the dining table, my cousins, brother, and I leaned in listening to stories my aunts, uncles, or parents would tell us. Stories about our grandmother, ghosts, relatives back in the Philippines, or of their earlier years. Looking back they seem to be romanticized views of the past, who knows what was actually real and what wasn't, I'm sure the teller would feel just the same. I mean, was there really a hunchback that lived down the street from my aunt's house that chased them around as kids? Did my grandmother really drop everything and move to Egypt because she found out my grandfather was having an affair? I actually do believe the part about my mom and her sisters dancing up next to the DJ at discos in their college years. That's the funny thing about stories, true or not, eventually they get told to the point of truth, weaving itself through the fabric of our realities.
Nonetheless, they serve as my origins and have created the foundation of my identity. Not only the stories, but the act of storytelling and sharing my family and ancestors enjoy. If there's anything I learned studying sociology in university, it was that storytelling is extremely important. They create and have created our schemas of the world. For centuries storytelling has worked (well, and is still today working) as a tool to create and destroy truths, resulting in the systems and cultures of power and oppression. All politics aside however, it's no wonder why I've grown to love storytelling.
I've journaled for as long a I can remember. A diary was something I've had as soon as I was able to write. Many of of them are lost, but many filled books are stored somewhere in my basement and still get lugged around with every move. There are also plenty of embarrassing online journals floating around the interwebs somewhere since whenever I started using the internet for sharing.
Storytelling is why I began taking photographs in the first place, it was a way I could be present and record my life and the lives around me. Now having RUE, it has become the fuel for my core inspiration. A way to create a world outside of me, of my dreams. Full of flowers and feelings of nostalgia, inspired by the old world and nature. Mostly fabricated, but still authentic to me.
If you read my diary, you must know that I'm going on a long trip by now. Well, if you enjoy reading my diary, I actually started a travel journal. It's going to be written in the form of letters to a friend of mine named Sophia. The link to that is www.letterstosophia.us. There's only one post so far, but I leave in a week, so it'll all begin very soon!
Portland Florist | Gentle Hermione
Last Spring when I moved into my tiny green house I planted a garden. Even though at the time my stay there was temporary, I splurged and planted some David Austin roses. Which one did I pick? Gentle Hermione.
She grew with full force this season. Growing almost taller than me. I didn't expect it, but the winter must have been good to her.
If you've never smelled Gentle Hermione, she's a soft, classic, old rose smell. She's very supple, but strong. She's pink in color at first, but fades to a soft blush pink. And, best of all, she doesn't have too many thorns. She's a safe, trusting character.
There's something so classically beautiful about Gentle Hermione. When I think of "Old English Garden Rose", I imagine a rose almost identical to her. I imagine hundred year old paintings and botanical illustrations of pale pink flowers.
Before I pursued floral design, I had dreams of growing flowers. On a large scale. I still have those dreams. They're far away from where I am now, but I know one day if I work hard enough I'll have rows and rows of flowers. I'll wake up with the sun to clip them and wander through them, inspecting, as the sun goes down. The difficult, demanding work sounds enticing to me. All I really want in life is to wake up and smell the scent of dirt and flowers. I've talked to florists that don't believe in farmer florists. They say someone should pick between the two. I do think the relationship between farmer and florist is an important one, however, there is truly no better feeling than arranging with product I've grown myself.
Portland Florist | Gentle Hermione
Last Spring when I moved into my tiny green house I planted a garden. Even though at the time my stay there was temporary, I splurged and planted some David Austin roses. Which one did I pick? Gentle Hermione.
She grew with full force this season. Growing almost taller than me. I didn't expect it, but the winter must have been good to her.
If you've never smelled Gentle Hermione, she's a soft, classic, old rose smell. She's very supple, but strong. She's pink in color at first, but fades to a soft blush pink. And, best of all, she doesn't have too many thorns. She's a safe, trusting character.
There's something so classically beautiful about Gentle Hermione. When I think of "Old English Garden Rose", I imagine a rose almost identical to her. I imagine hundred year old paintings and botanical illustrations of soft pink flowers.
Before I pursued floral design, I had dreams of growing flowers. On a large scale. I still have those dreams. They're far away from where I am now, but I know one day if I work hard enough I'll have rows and rows of flowers. I'll wake up with the sun to clip them and wander through them, inspecting, as the sun goes down. The difficult, demanding work sounds enticing to me. All I really want in life is to wake up and smell the scent of dirt and flowers. I've talked to florists that don't believe in farmer florists. They say someone should pick between the two. I do think the relationship between farmer and florist is an important one, however, there is truly no better feeling than arranging with product I've grown myself.
Ramblings | On the city of roses
My mother had more than thirty rose bushes growing around our house when I was little. No joke. Our house was often called The Rose House by our neighbors. When my parents sold that house, the people who moved in afterwards tore out almost half of them. It's no surprise that I ended up moving here to Portland, the city of roses.
spring in portland is truly breathe taking. if you haven't experienced it, i say buy your ticket right now. as a girl that grew up in the high deserts of the rocky mountains, i'm still in awe of the amount of green and blooms that begin sprouting of the ground. Makes all the months of gloom and rain worth it. i instantly forget that just a month ago I moaned and cried about how sick I am of the darkness. of the everything being damp. of feeling like it's constantly early morning. I even constantly talk about wanting to leave this place. but every year portland proves, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. and, not only is there a light, but lots and lots of roses. and like a dysfunctional relationship, I'm back to loving portland again, and i can't imagine ever leaving.
i owe my start to floral design to this city. It was about this time years ago that I had the epiphany that I wanted to pursue this career. There's evidence of that in my social media pages somewhere (remember flickr and tumblr? do people still use those?). I would go on walks through my neighbor and secretly clip flowers from my neighbors' gardens (so sorry neighbors!), and take photos of my friends sitting with arrangements I put together. Although I have come (i think) a long way from there, I also haven't gone very far. I know now to stick to foraging from seemingly unclaimed areas (though I still get the urge to clip roses from people's gardens around town. I just have to tell myself, "do the morally correct thing."), but I still get my friends to let me take photos of them sitting with my arrangements.
everything aside, i owe a gigantic thank you to the house in inner SE with the five giant bushes of some variety of pale pink garden roses... It was those garden roses that really made me fall in love with the craft. The soft petals, that softly drip when aging. the classic beauty. the classic rose smell. It brings me back to all the memories of watching my mom tending to her roses. And although it may be typical, roses, to today, still remain my favorite flower. and, i will never, ever, ever, ever get sick of working with them.
Portland Wedding Florist | And off they go to Spain...
Remember these mini bouquets I make? Well, a little shipment of them are off to Spain! I'm still a bit on shock. Someone overseas loves these enough to want to ship them all the way there. Better yet, someone so far away even knows I exist. The internet is an amazing thing. These little guys are currently flying over thousands of miles of land and water to be gifted to a woman's bridesmaids.
Just too bad I didn't have the ability to shrink myself and package myself with them. But, I can't complain because I actually leave for Europe in about one month. That's about four weeks. That's about thirty days. Okay, thirty, that's a better number. However, I won't be going as South as Spain, but I'll be pretty dang close. Regardless, off I'll go. Soon, I'll be flying over thousands of miles of land and water. *insert smiling nervous emoji here* (Can you tell by my last post that it's all I'm able to even think about right now?)
Ramblings | On Time Off and On
In just one month I'll be leaving Portland with just a backpack for a three and a half month trip. I'll be boarding an airplane to Boston and riding a bus to be in New York. I'll be flowering my cousin's wedding, eating as cheap as I can, and then preparing for an even longer journey. After a couple weeks in NY (on my 25th birthday (also the Summer Solstice!)) I'll be flying to Denmark to spend my summer in Europe, riding trains and backpacking through Germany, Switzerland, France, The Netherlands and Norway. I'll be flowering another cousin's wedding in Switzerland, then will stay with my family in Geneva. We'll visit an uncle in Southern France, then more cousins in Paris. I'll be in Paris with my mom, and she'll point out all the places she use to visit when she lived there as a woman my age. I can't wait to smell the air in European country sides, stare at old architecture, listen to tongues I don't understand, and walk cobble stone streets. And, (this is a given) see all the flowers, vintage dresses, and baskets.
But before then, I'm moving all my things out of my little shed, finding homes for my many, many plants, tucking things away in my studio, and coming to terms that I won't be around for the best time to be in Oregon.
The last few years I have worked my ass off. I've worked four different jobs at once, sixty hour weeks, had almost six months straight without a day off, and lost my mind a bit doing it. These last couple months have been really mellow. I have convinced myself and accepted that it's okay not kicking my ass with RUE. I'm taking things slow and creating a period of calm waters. I keep telling myself, when you get back from Europe, you can then give RUE every bit of energy you have. But, for now, I'm enjoying being able to lay in the grass and watch the wind rustle the leaves, take a nap in the afternoon, sit in a place in a stairwell I normally wouldn't, and go on sunset walks with friends.
It's funny taking a step back and looking at the person I am. I see so much of my mother. I see myself working late, accepting too many jobs, being a perfectionist, and having no time off that I'm not even able to cook a meal, just like her. Although I (of course) love and admire my mother and appreciate inheriting her ambition, I have to remind myself to slow down and not miss life (something my father always has to remind her). I have to continue to tell myself, no matter how much you love and enjoy what you do, time off is still important.
So, time off is exactly what I'll be doing. Then, once I get back in Portland, I be getting back into gear (and Il have weddings lined up to welcome me home with open arms!).
Portland Florist | Ondreya and the Daffodils
The daffodils are here. I've been seeing them everywhere. Through the windows of dusty warehouses surrounding my studio, on the checkout stand at the grocery store, on my friends' kitchen tables, in the hands of little girls on walks, and buckets and buckets at the flower market. What I love most about daffodils is that they're a sure sign of Spring. With them come the clearing of clouds, cool breezes on warm days, blossoming trees, and the sound of birds chirping on bright mornings. Living in the Pacific Northwest for the last almost seven years, it's an exhilarating, as well as interesting, moment when I realize we've gotten out of what we like to call "the tunnel". When one can look at the sky, actually see a sunset, and is blinded driving west during golden hour (I can't believe some of you have to deal with that every day!).
My sister friend, Ondreya, recently moved away to Eastern Oregon from Portland. :*( She came to visit the other week, and I had the pleasure of photographing her with some daffodils. We've been meaning to have a shoot since I started RUE, so we were long overdue! Her long wavy locks and ethereal beauty are what RUE ANAFEL is all about. It's such a satisfying feeling getting to mix my love of making photographs and arranging flowers. And even better, I got to make something with a friend. Hope you all like it!
Portland Florist | Funeral Flowers
For centuries flowers have been used as a means of communication. In the Victorian Era there was a whole language of flowers. People often gave each other "talking bouquets", so they could gift coded messages without saying things that often weren't allowed in Victorian Society. In addition to that, flowers were often set to surround the recently deceased, as they lay in their death bed for wakes.
When I first started RUE, I decided I wanted to do funeral flowers. Not only funeral flowers, but flowers for any kind of ceremony in recognition for one's recent passing, be it a wake, memorial, or sympathy arrangement for the home. All over social media, my industry pays so much attention to wedding, event, and editorial flowers, but not that much on funeral flowers. I often don't see the service offered on florist websites or shops here in Portland, Oregon. Why is that? Does it have to do with how uncomfortable it is to talk about passing? Death is one of the most important events in life next to birth. Both, I believe, should be recognized with ceremony. Every year one has a birthday celebration, and only once does one have a passing ceremony. And, as Claude Monet wrote, "I must have flowers, always, and always".
So, I thought it was important to provide the service of sympathy and mourning flowers. Because even with weddings and gifting flowers, they should be full of intention. Perusing around online, when I googled, "funeral flowers", often they're 1-800 type arrangements. Just mono-cropped stems, jammed into vases. I built RUE on the idea that everything must be intentional. It is with intention that we bring significance into the mundane, recognize things to their full potential, and fully explore ourselves and what surrounds us. Intention is sustainable, complex, and rich. Arrangements should not only be a pretty face, but tell a story. As I wrote on my sympathy and mourning page, What kind of person was your loved one? What was one of their favorite places in nature to visit? What kind of flowers or foliage did they enjoy? And, What colors or scents remind you of them? All things one can consider when making arrangements for a funeral or wake.
Flowers can be used to tell a story, as well as celebrate, a life lived.
Ramblings | On Transparency and Disappointment
In the very beginnings of RUE (honestly, I'm still in the beginnings of RUE), I read an article Floret wrote on making oneself the face of their own business. I fully agree with this business model and honestly enjoy and like that I've taken the route of making RUE not only mine, but an extension of me. If my work is something I'm passionate about, and if I desire that it becomes part of people's everyday lives and special moments, I feel it's necessary for me to be personal in order to be a part of people's personal experiences. I think in order to work with others on that level, I myself have to be transparent. Being personal and vulnerable is not difficult for me. I prefer one on one conversations. When I become friends with someone, I want to know about all their hardships and dreams and hope the feeling is mutual. A long time ago, after I had been in a relationship where my then partner and I had a difficult time communicating, I made a promise to myself that I would never be afraid to be open and honest with others. Even so far as to tell people when I'm not okay if they asked how I am. Although tying my personal life with my more public business life has not been difficult, it plays out strangely when it comes to disappointment. Let me back up for a second.
Disappointment may be the worst feeling in the world to me. Worse than hatred, sadness, even anger. In my last post, I mentioned having parents who moved to the States to give me a better life. Expectations were set high from the beginning from them, and eventually I found that I set even higher expectations for myself. Throughout time, this has been both a blessing and a curse. I know I wouldn't be as ambitious as I am, but when I see myself fall, I allow my mind to fall deep, into a dark hole. It's interesting examining how I do this now that I own my own business.
I was feeling really down all morning. I wasn't feeling so great about my work and somehow allowed myself fall into a deep, deep hole, thinking about questioning what I'm doing, distancing myself more from my work, and RUE, and all kind of negative thoughts one thinks in these kind of holes. I ran a bunch of errands and sometime in the afternoon delivered an arrangement that was part of a giveaway in the spirit of International Women's' Day. The woman who it was promised to was so sweet. I stayed, and we chatted for a bit about flowers and life and time and family. It was such a breathe of fresh air. I had so quickly fallen into this dark place, and just as quickly was reminded how in moments like this, it can be really rewarding to make oneself open, and accessible, and connect with strangers. Two sides to the same coin.
I never truly felt dedication to one's company until now. The last thing I want to do is disappoint a client, the thought just kills me. On the other hand, praise can send my heart soaring. It's exhausting, this rollercoaster between praise and disappointment. I'm working on finding that balance between the two; I think it's going to be necessary if I plan to continue RUE, which I do, and especially if I plan to be transparent. Having set my company on such a personal level, my expectations are not only from my family or from within, but it extends to the public, to strangers. Everything I do, everything my business does or doesn't, is a direct reflection of myself. If something goes wrong, I am the one to blame; there are no higher ups. The same goes for if things go right. It's tough. And, it's something I'm still trying to learn to deal with emotionally.