I’ve been making mandalas from flowers and leaves since February 23. It has become my meditation, my art project. It’s how I’m dealing with stress and anxiety. I am a huge fan of land art, ephemeral artworks made of natural, found materials and installed in natural spaces. This is my own little contribution to the art form. I love flowers and used to be a florist, so it seems to fit.

I am using primarily materials from my own garden and yard. Occasionally, when in a wild place or undeveloped lot, I will pick some wildflowers to use, but only if they are totally plentiful. I’ve made mandalas in my parents’ yard and in my in-laws’ yard, using their plants and flowers. I’m not buying cut flowers for this project, it’s just what I can glean.

It seems that every few days a new plant is blooming, making its flowers or pretty leaves available to my art. I don’t want to denude anything, of course—I grow my garden so that it’s beautiful and pleasant to be in—so I only take bits that are abundant. I carefully consider whether I can spare the flowers.

There’s a kind of sacred geometry to these, I think, as is so with all mandalas. I enjoy playing with forms. Each mandala has something wrong with it, a kind of wabi-sabi element. Somehow, this delights me. Even though I really do try to make them symmetrical and geometrical and “right.” Tiny pieces sometimes move out of place. Usually I don’t see their flaws until after I’ve taken the photo and walked away, or the wind has moved all the bits around and destroyed the pattern. Then I take a deep breath and decide to love the mandala anyway.

Some mandalas are simple and some are complicated. I’m enjoying exploring shapes and textures, as well as colors and all their myriad combinations. Sometimes I use bare ground or my lawn as the background. Other times I’ll find a place under a tree where there’s bark or needles. I think the background contributes to the overall feeling of each mandala. So far, every one of them is unique in many ways.

The wind is my enemy when designing a piece. Various sun versus shadow conditions can also be tricky, I’ve learned. Time of day matters, too. If it’s too late in the evening, I find my photo isn’t as nice because of low light. If the day has bright, bright sun, I often can’t tell by looking at my viewfinder if my photo has captured it properly. After taking shots, I play with the brightness, saturation, shadows, and other elements of the photo to try to pull out the best qualities of each mandala. I’m no whiz at postproduction, but I get in there and mess about anyway.

Even if I’m using many flowers of the same type, or many leaves from the same tree or bush, each one is different. I like that these same-element groups don’t always behave the same, or look quite the same, or have the same size, color, or texture, but when viewed as a whole, sort of cooperate and can be taken together.

I think most of all, what I like about making these is that they make me happy. They’re little earthy prayers of my own making, arising from my wild mind and creative soul though the work of my hands, arranging materials that delight me. They are quieting, when my mind is racing. My mandalas give me a moment to stop everything, take a few moments outside, and make something beautiful, even if it lasts only a little while.

I also love that they make other people happy. So, dear friends, thank you for the encouragement and kind words. I think I’ll keep making my garden mandalas for a while longer.

Last year, as part of our family’s Autumn Equinox celebration, the boys and I made an autumn wreath from clippings from our yard. It was so pretty and lasted better and longer than I had really hoped, so I thought this year I’d share a tutorial, in case you’d like to make one for your home.

Above is our wreath from today. I wish I could say my kids wanted to help this year, but they didn’t. Also, you might wonder why my Autumn wreath doesn’t have many autumn leaves in it. Here in Northern California the leaves haven’t yet begun to turn pretty colors. Today it was almost 100 degrees F. I found plenty of other bits with splashes of  color to use instead of autumn leaves.

Materials

* wreath base made of twigs or vines

* floral picks (short wooden stems with a wire fastened on one end)

* fresh and dried yard clippings (some examples: Japanese maple, pittosporum, nandina, rose hips, seed pods, dried or drying hydrangea, crepe myrtle, myrtle, dusty miller, mint, rosemary, autumn leaves, mallow, wheat ears, assorted shrubs, etc.)

Tutorial

A long time ago, I used to be a floral designer, but I promise you don’t have to have any floral design experience to do this project. Also, I should say that this is a seasonal wreath that will look nice for several weeks. It will not last forever, as the plant materials will wither and dry out. However, many will retain their shapes and colors. Since we won’t be storing this wreath for use again next year, we are free to construct it fairly loosely.

For my wreath base, I used a wisteria vine that I twisted into a wreath earlier this summer when Ian and I were trimming in the yard. Wisteria is leafy and pretty and nicely flexible when you first cut it and it’s fresh. We had so very much of it that I made several wreaths, which subsequently dried up completely. The first thing I did for my autumn wreath project was to pick off a bunch of dried wisteria leaves. You can see how the original green color of the wisteria vines has faded in the next picture.

Choose a single direction in which to add bits of plants to your wreath base. Trust me: You’ll be happier with the finished wreath if it has a directional flow. Mine goes clockwise. It is the direction of the path of the sun in the Northern Hemisphere, and since for me this wreath is a symbol of the changing of the seasons, I’m quite happy with clockwise.

All you have to do is stuff the stem end of your garden clippings into your wreath base, wedging it until if feels secure. That’s it. It’s not complicated at all, but you have to keep doing it until your wreath base is covered up with foliage and other items. I suggest that you choose sturdy kinds of plants to cover the base and provide a foundation for the colorful and more interesting parts to sit on. For my wreath, this was pittosporum. It stays intact as it dries.

Now add lots of variety to your wreath, using the same technique of inserting the stems into the twisted wreath base. Try to find foliage in a variety of greens, reds, and yellows and with a variety of leaf shapes. Keep working in different places all around the circle, adding the same type of item in two to five different places on the wreath. This will help achieve a balanced look.

As the wreath fills out gradually, you can begin to add your showier items. Unusual shapes or colors, seed pods, flowers, or dried flowers all make wonderful accents. If you have plant items lacking a long enough stem, you can use a floral pick and wrap the wire around the item, securing it to the floral pick. Then insert the pick into the wreath base.

You might wish to choose a particular focal point on the wreath. Often this is either the bottom center or the top center of the wreath. Place some of your favorite plant items there.

I chose plenty of imperfect items for my wreath, such as leaves with blemishes, flowers that were long past their prime, and fruits (such as rose hips and lantana fruits) that would normally be trimmed and discarded. I wanted to capture this moment in time, this beautiful juncture between the seasons that is the equinox. My garden is a study in paradox right now, with some plants blooming like gangbusters and some going to seed and drying out. To me this is quintessence of the autumn equinox, and reflects the seasons as I know them.

You can make an amazing autumn wreath without taking too much of any one type of plant, too. For example, I clipped only three hydrangea flowers, four old zinnias, and only a couple of totally dried, brown gardenias. If you use just a little bit of lots of different plants, you won’t need to denude any one.

Here’s my finished wreath hanging above our nature table. It will change over the next several weeks as autumn wears on, which seems just right to me.

How do you honor the changing of the seasons in your home?

My Photinia Rainbow photo is featured today on Maureen Cracknell Handmade. Please pop on over to Maureen’s site and see her exquisite handwork, sewing, and quilting. I’m excited to make her acquaintance and honored that she finds my photo inspiring! I’ll be watching her creative endeavors going forward.

Maureen’s blog is Maureen Cracknell Handmade and can be found at http://maureencracknellhandmade.blogspot.com/.

That gorgeous fabric bundle is for sale by PinkCastleFabrics here: The fabric bundle is for sale here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/79584457/sale-high-traffic-red-yellow-and-green-9

This is my most popular photo on Flickr. I love it. Apparently, lots of other people do, too. It was taken on May 10, 2010. Just a little nostalgia for my morning.