Bowled over...

Oh, and I promised you bowls.  Here they are, in all their lunar scape-like, glazed glory.  Yum.  It was almost a shame to fill them with flowers.  Almost.

A Summer wedding (part two)

More lovely shots of the table flowers, replete with summery blooms and topped off with little retro world flags on knitting needles (made by the bride's fair hands yet again).

A Summer wedding (part one)

The brief: a high Summer wedding celebrating all things seasonal, colourful, joyful and natural.  The bride: ridiculously creative, she made everything from the hand printed invitations to the beautiful ceramic bowls for the table flowers.  What you can't appreciate here are the wonderful finishes and glazes on the inside of the bowls (more of that to follow).

J'adore Pivoines

Am I just a hopeless romantic or has this peony bloom styled itself into a frilly love heart?  Okay, don't answer that ( but I think it's rather beautiful).

Feast the eyes (and soul)

Lys Cheri, 2008

Amaryllis Rubis, 2008

Pivoine Grand Jour, 2009

Tulipes, Baiser Rose et Baiser Rouge, 2009

Chrysantheme Flamboyant, 2008

Lys d'Hiver, 2008

Sandrine Bihorel is a French sculptor who turned her hand to painting to create these large decorative panels.  The fusion of clay and paint gives these pieces a textural surface that has been described as old embossed leather and the patterns peeking out from behind the blooms are inspired by her collections of fabrics.  For me they are reminiscent of many things: the glossy cracked ceramics of my childhood, travels to exotic souks and heady Moorish nights, the smell of mysterious Victorian volumes depicting strange and wonderful floral specimens.  I'm never quite sure whether I prefer the beautiful printed textile motifs or the curling, fluid lines of the flowers but in truth I can't imagine one existing without the other by her hand.  You can see more of her work here

Buttonholes, corsages and all that jazz

You might wonder why a florist would begin her first blog post with buttonholes and corsages- the smallest and probably, you're thinking, the most insignificant part of her work.  In answer there's actually something immeasurably satisfying about making these tiny flowery creations, it must be all that wiring and silky wisps of ribbon.  Not to mention lovely pins- a good haberdashery is every florist's friend.  Of course we have the usual suspect the thistle (or what passes for a thistle) as we're in Scotland.  Inevitable really but don't hold that against it, poor thing.