The garden is coming to life and providing some exquisite bits and bobs working their way to into our event arrangements.
Meanwhile, the gophers have declared war and are winning on all fronts. At this point, I’m just funding their underground lifestyle.😮💨🫠
One design, two moments 🌼 These stunning floral pillars anchored the ceremony altar and then framed the sweetheart table at reception — proof that intentional floral design pays off all day long. Reusing your ceremony pieces creates a cohesive story that runs through your entire wedding day ✨
Save this for when you’re planning your wedding florals 🌸
Photographer: @foto_gems
Planner: @twoperfectevents
Venue: @kohlmansionevents
Florist: @williwildflower
Hair & Makeup: @chelseykay.hmua@melissuhhmarie
Rentals: @hensleyeventresources
#twoperfectevents #bayareaweddingplanner #weddingflorals #bayareaflorist #floralpillars
The Emergence
I was recently given the writing prompt:
If your life were a garden, what are you ready to stop tending, and what are you ready to nurture more intentionally?
I do feel that my life is a garden.
In recent years, I tended my garden the way I tended myself—wanting everything, everywhere, all at once. Seeds scattered constantly, flung wide across the beds in a kind of hopeful chaos. A dire need to have flowers abundantly layered through every season. A measurable reflection of my time and effort, a validation of my hard work.
And it was exhausting.
This winter was the first time I planted a cover crop.
This year is about tending the soil.
Being ok with bare beds covered by cardboard, slowly composting fava beans and clover, mustard and tender pea shoots. With old roots quietly decomposing, giving themselves back to the earth.
I took a breath.
A step back.
I slowed down.
No flowers.
No watering.
No weeding.
Just letting the garden sleep.
Letting it rest, letting myself rest.
And this week, the fritillarias emerged by the dozens.
I hadn’t realized how many I had planted.
Before, I could never see them clearly, each one pushing upward through the yarrow, the poppies, through the entanglement of everything I had scattered in my rush to make the garden full—full, FULL.
Now they rise, one by one. No competition, no distractions. To be seen in their entirety.
I transplanted the bearded irises to a new bed where they can drink in the full sun and two just bloomed this morning. Fuller and stronger than ever.
This year for me is about the discipline of nurturing:
quality over quantity
slowing down
feeding the soil so that it can sustain and nourish what is to come better than before.
Because when the plants are healthy, they can grow wider, deeper, truer.
Meaning less can truly be more.
December is for the Dogs.
A month well spent, slowing down, turning off the phone and computer and hanging with my favorite four legged legends. The greatest masters of being present and going with the flow. Howling around my happy home with my best friends welcoming some young guns to the pack. Dog life is the best life. My cup is full!
That’s a wrap for 2025.
Thank you to all the lovers who included me in their celebrations, to my friends and colleagues who helped in all the creations, moral support, and tolerated my studio singalongs. To the incredible farmers who grow the best of the best, the planners who helped bring these visions to life, and the photographers who are able to catch the light and feelings of it all so perfectly.
Grateful for another year of doing what I love, creating art through flowers and celebrating love, getting to tromp around the California coastlines w my dogs and friends in tow, and somehow getting to make a living through it all.
It feels like a lot when you’re in the thick of it, floral design only makes up a slice of the whole pie, but there’s no better feeling than undressing at the end of the season and diving into to winter waters to reset and end the season.
Thank you to everyone that played a hand in making this year possible. Kisses and howls to all of you.
