June 19, 2013
There’s a question I like to ask people when I’m conducting interviews: “what’s your favorite flower?”
I know it seems incredibly random and it usually comes out of left field, but I continue to ask because of all the interesting answers I get. Most of the time when a person loves a flower it’s not just because it’s pretty. There’s a backstory, or a metaphor, or a deep-seeded feeling of kinship behind the types of flowers they like.
Sunflowers, because of the way they represent the march of time and the seasons. Red roses, because that’s what her parents always gave her after a show. Baby’s breath, because she remembers romping through a field of them as a child, completely carefree. Peonies, because of the way they start out as a tiny bulb, then stretch and yawn and wake up into a riot of petals.