Ah, the season of rebirth and new beginnings! When beautiful, happy rays of sunshine itself burst from the winter worn earth. March is the time of year of change. ‘In like a lion, out like a lamb’ as the saying goes, March’s birth flower - the Daffodil is the face of a lion itself. Perhaps a carpet of white narcissus emulate the lamb better. The lion and the lamb, christian symbols, often accompany the Lenten season which takes place in March. If you’ve been following my blog this year, then you know I am making a practice of pausing for whimsy and designing each month’s birth flower.
This year as I make my way through the months, March’s being Daffodil/Narcissus/Jonquil, my thoughts landed on the narcissus as my initial choice for birth flower. I was drawn into the white variant with a salmon colored cup. Alas, narcissus is also the birth flower for December, so I’m saving it. I have a great yellow suede in the atelier, so I decided to dive into that sunshine and make them classic!
Honestly, I struggled wrapping my head around it because I am rarely inclined to use yellow in my work. I originally bought the yellow suede to make sunflowers last fall. The need for me to mix function with art is very high and for some strange reason, I don’t often imagine yellow. I say its strange because I absolutely love yellow! All the golden hues just fill me with the joy akin to how I feel eating chocolate. Its warm and happy, and I think if I were a color, it’s possible I’d be yellow.
Daffy-down-dilly, you are like laughter. Joy. A feeling of elation. My memories of daffodils always start with a few stragglers, in total contrast of the gray brown earth, in which they stood on a hillside glade in the “little mountain” commonly known as Monticello. Nearly 2 decades ago, when most of my classmates at Michigan State were jetting down to Florida beaches for spring break, Ben and I borrowed my Dad’s truck, threw a mattress in the back and drove down to Appalachia. After some time in West Virginia, we weaved down to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. We weren’t partying on the beach; we were roaming the Blue Ridge, historic battlefields, landmarks, and ancient feeling graveyards.
It was March and the sun rotated rhythmically with the clouds and wind. The forest floor filled with last autumn’s soggy brown detritus. We toured the home and grounds at Monticello. Seeing the gardens in March left you realizing just how long and harsh winters were. Then meandering away from the group we were with, Ben and I happened across some little pops of sunshine, seemingly unworried about the rest of the world, standing there in the dirt, blooming. A face of sunshine, sprung out of the earth; a daffodil. There is was, that feeling again; like a little laughter escaping your throat. A light breathy laugh, one that you give when something makes you happy.
Maybe daffodils hold a special place in your heart too. I’ve read that they represent hope, rebirth, prosperity, memories, and joy. Daffodil along with the jonquil, are a member of the Narcissus genus which have about 50 species. Daffodils or Narcissus are mentioned in the Bible; Isaiah 35:1-2 - “The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the narcissus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.” Hope indeed.
The Daffodil/Narcissus was even mentioned by the prophet Mohammad; “Whoever has two loaves of bread, sell one and buy narcissi, for while bread nourishes the body, the narcissus feeds the soul.” Which is how I felt when making the Daffodil bag.
I used a deep gray, reminiscent of early spring skies, and a perfect contrast to the buttery yellow suede of the flowers, for my back drop/body of the bag. I paid little attention to the stems/leaves, instead throwing the eyes to the flowers with their beaded cups. I knew I wanted to center the flowers across the mid line as to make them pop with the bucket bag shape. I stitched the bag in ivory and lined it in clementine orange. I used solid brass feet, D-rings, and eyelets to play off the yellow of the daffodils. I dare you not to feel ‘something’ when you carry this bag. It is teeming with feeling, so that it may be difficult for passerby not to feel it too!
‘I wander lonely as a cloud that floats on high o’er vales and hills. When all at once I saw a crowd, a host of golden daffodils; beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze.’ ~William Wordsworth - excerpt from Daffodils