Unforeseeable Future

Every year around Mother's Day, I go to the neighborhood plant-nursery to buy flowers for two giant pots I have in the front of my studio. This is my garden and I revel in tending to it, watching it grow, and admiring the colors that burst from its soil like thick brush strokes projecting outward from the canvas. This year has been a challenging one for me. There were too many things going on, preventing me from buying the flowers this spring. Lack of time and money, while obsessing about not having enough of either, kept me away from my annual ritual of the season.

The summer months quickly passed, as they always do, and I was reminded of my situation every day as I stepped outside, on to my patio where I saw brown empty pots, void of any color. But somewhere in the middle of the summer, I saw life had indeed returned to my garden without my help. I am not really sure what is growing in my pots, whether it's a weed or perhaps a flower that managed to germinate on the behalf of an artist open for change, but it doesn't matter. It gave me hope. Furthermore, it clearly illustrated that life doesn't always happen the way you want it to, yet it continues to flourish in wonderful and unexpected ways.