Statement - Aide-Memoire
The exquisite stillness of a garden just before dawn can be magic. I’m drawn to the mystery of shadowed spaces among the clipped forms, and the interplay of light and atmosphere as dawn filters through the trees. I love paying attention to the edges of the garden, where manicured space gives way to unrestrained nature.
I’ve spent a lot of time in gardens over the past two years. One thread that runs through the long history of the garden is the tension between our love of nature and our desire to control it. Nature speaks to something deep within us, and it’s in nature, both cultivated and wild that we have historically found healing, and relief from the cares of daily life.
Everyone experiences a garden differently. Some may see beauty and tranquility, or feel inspired by the intricacies of nature, while others may see nothing but work to be done. Certainly, gardens are layered with meaning, reflecting the perceptions, emotions and biases of the person experiencing it. For me, gardens have always been places of contemplation, providing an aide memoire for long ago natural spaces of my childhood and perhaps memories of loved ones. The human presence that is imposed on a garden, and its cultivated orderliness can be a comfort. But I feel a tug of uncertainty as I wander off a bit, past the clipped forms and edges of the well tended landscape, to the tangled, wilder space beyond.