Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Tuesdays Thoughts: It me again, AKA "the lone white tulip" (with some thoughts on time)

Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11

Remember me? I'm the "lone white tulip" who wrote a blog entry (three weeks ago tomorrow), which you are welcome to review by clicking here, where I expressed my concerns about Sylvia Plath, the poetess, and of her accusing members of the Tulip family of having, "the mouths of an African lion", in her poem, Tulips. Tulips is a poem which Youngquist included in her April 26th post which you can reread by clicking here. My aforementioned concerns have been somewhat alleviated, because Youngquist addressed them (as she does with all of my needs) in her May 4th 2011 posting,Dearest Tulip, even you could not console Sylvia Plath, which you can read by clicking here.

Today, because my petals are starting to fall, I am keenly aware that I may be entering the last days of my life, because, as you may know, we tulips have a short life — and we are replaced by other ones in subsequent seasons.
That being the case, I want to take the opportunity to express my thoughts about what my life has been like in Youngquist's urban terrace garden — a terrace garden which is tended by her (your blogger under the title of The Last Leaf Gardener), as well as Juan V, a man she admires very much.
First, I want to express my thanks to Youngquist, and I hope you will still hear me out. I am most grateful that Youngquist explained to me that sometimes you humans do not want to be be consoled when in certain instances grief or despair have taken overcome the individual. I appreciate Youngquist not only sharing the sorrow which Ms. Plath surely experienced, and by doing so, letting me know that Plath's feelings were beyond anything us tulips could do in terms of consolation (or anything else for that matter). What a relief it was for me to learn this information, and on behalf of my tulip-community, I'd like to say how relieved we, the tulip-community, are to know that our fellow-tulips did not fail their mission, yet I still feel sorrow that anyone was in such a depth of despair.

In any event, at this moment, some of the herbs, plants, shrubs and trees that make their home with me in Youngquist's terrace garden are giving me the heads-up, letting me know that I am getting too philosophical — at least for a blog entry, and now they are also reminding me that people don't read lengthy things these days. Pity, I say, because there is nothing like being a part of a garden where people come to read, and thankfully our gardener, Youngquist does spend time reading here, but I am digressing again from my original intention for today's post in which I want to discuss (briefly) my thoughts on borrowed time — since with my petals falling (as evidenced by the photographs posted below:

Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11


where a few of my petals can be seen on the black-topped surface which supports Youngquist's container-filled terrace garden), I am keenly aware that my borrowed time is closing in on me. What you see in the photographs above (in addition to my white petals), are yellow fragments (that were blown by the wind from where they were resting inside a peony flower from my gardener's Paeonia suffruiticosa, also known as a Tree Peony). 

The yellow fragments in the photograph with my petals are from my gardener's Paeonia suffruiticosa flowers. I've included a profile shot of one of the flowers which emphasizes the inner yellow part of the peony flower below,

Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11


and you might have surmised this to be the case because, the Paeonia suffruiticosa, in addition to being the cover girl for the Welcome Page of the on-line brochure and featured on the back page of the downloadable brochure, has been written about on so many occasions, including a DOZEN features: as evidenced by the following links:


I have spent a lot of time discussing the Paeonia suffruiticosa thus far, however, my point in posting today isn't about my possible slight case of envy towards the Paeonia suffruiticosa. Rather, it's about sharing with you, dear reader, something I've learned being born a tulip, and consequently, knowing from day one that life is short (which is perhaps a reason I appreciate, as do the other tulips in this terrace garden, all the creation surrounding me, and, if I do say so myself, tulips are great at showing appreciation for life's constant surprising moments). If the world gave Facebook accounts to us flowers, and I were on it, here are a few of the photographs I'd show to share with you just some of the ways tulips embrace life:

Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11
"Excitement: Jumping for Joy"


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11
"Kindness: Welcoming the Scent of the Rosmarinus officinalis — Rosemary Herb"


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11
"Appreciation: Encore, Rosemary, Encore"


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11
"Celebrating the Arrival of Antethun (Dill)"


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11
"Awestruck: Getting a Closer Look (Starring Even) at the "Trailing Rosmarinus officinalis"


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11
"Comfort: Resting in the Bosom of Paeonia Leaves"


So there you have it, dear reader, an inkling of some of the awesome moments we tulips have had in this terrace garden, appreciating life; knowing we only have a limited amount of time here. It's a hard concept to grasp, I realize, especially for folks who bear many burdens, but it can be done.

Maybe I am just a tulip, but I've come to learn a lot in the time I've spent in this terrace garden; however, I didn't come by this "borrowed time" insight on my own. I must confess that I came to it vis a vis a story I've often heard Youngquist tell her clients and friends about a woman who was the mother of Jennifer Mahoney. Jennifer is the subject of one of Youngquist's original Black and White photographs (which can be seen in the photograph posted below,


Patricia Youngquist uses words and images to tell stories about her passions. Based in New York, she currently is authoring a series of nature books on birds of the city. Now in Apple’s iBooks store @ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/words-in-our-beak/id1010889086?mt=11


as well as in the Black and White Print Collections posted on Youngquist's web-site. In the photograph, Jennifer is with the man she loved who is blind. The photograph was taken of him by Youngquist at the request of Jennifer. Unfortunately, Jennifer, who suffered from a case of Spina-bifda, died before the photograph was printed. She died while in the throes of living — "running" around Manhattan in her motorized wheel chair — with her blind boyfriend in tow, in an effort to do her Christmas shopping. In the holiday rush, she misjudged the height of a curb which caused her wheel chair to topple upon her — killing her instantly.

"I always knew I was on borrowed time with Jennifer," her mother evidently told Youngquist when she attended Jennifer's wake, "and so I let her do what she wanted to do." This is a quote Youngquist recounted in one of her first blog postings in 2010 in relation to her own attitudes toward her endeavors in Black and White photography (which can be viewed here, but the quote is apropos today, as I, your blogging-Tulip, attempt to share the blessing in knowing the value of "borrowed time".

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.