5ftinf: Japanese anemone

Over the last few months I’ve been working on such a lovely project for the Australian based Canvas Beauty.

Canvas asked me to create 4 unique table compositions with various colour themes and, like their products, connect with nature.

It was a perfect project for me as its a joy to compose these pieces...

Over the next 3 Mondays I’ll be posting pictures of the process of how I put their images together, starting with today’s pink theme...

Part of the joy of my compositions comes directly from nature itself, so when these Japanese Anemone petals were scattered over the garden path it sort of got me started...

I was working with one of the Canvas oil burners and decided to include a hydrangea petal to highlight the water, but to reflect that beautiful thing when petals just fall into ornamental ponds...

I wanted to re-create or at least capture some of the prettiness of the anemones outside...

as well as the freshness of the flowers in the morning...

...I lit up the burner last of all and I was so pleased that the warm glow of the candle picked out the centres of the shasta daisies as well as the anemones...

One composition often informs another, and although the rose petals didn’t feature in this pink composition... I just couldn’t leave them out!

Canvas Beauty pride themselves on their products which are full of wonderful herbal extracts and unique essential oils harnessing natural power as well as a natural healing therapy.

Follow them on Instagram @canvasbeautyau and on Facebook and you’ll be able to see more of my photos.

* this is a sponsored post

There is no competition in Ikebana, no striving to better someone else.

The object is simply to create something beautiful for the delight of others and in doing so inform ourself...

I pulled out one of my Granny’s Ikebana books yesterday and lots of her old notes fell out.

I had vaguely and rather nostalgically looked at them before, but I hadn’t actually read them.

The section above really touched a chord.

My table arrangements are brief moments which are never designed to last...they are flowers and tea after all, and only have a finite life span, but they are designed to delight.

I have never studied the Art of Ikebana ( unlike Beryl who had certificates ); I have always worked instinctively, but I find the aesthetics of it immensely pleasing.

My Granny says at one point in her notes:

Like all forms, Ikebana needs a great deal of study.

I don’t have enough time just now for a great deal of study; I’m usually trying to keep on top of the washing and ironing, and reading and studying has never been an easy or natural activity for me.

But I opened the book yesterday and saw a similar trough to one I have.

I have quite a few beautiful vases but am never quite sure what to do with the trough.

The picture showed Arum lilies and Yukka leaves, and although I thought the arrangement was quite dated, it inspired me to create one of my own, as I had recently been given the Arums from next door...

I realise that form in Ikebana is very important and this small diagram was really useful...

I went into the garden and picked some Montbretia stems which haven’t flowered yet ( and which are almost like weeds in some parts of the garden ).

I also picked a Giant Cow Parsley leaf, a Japanese Anemone stemmed leaf and a stem of Japanese Honeysuckle leaves.

When I started trying to put them together, I realised that actually the diagram on the opposite page was going to work better with what I had...

The Cow Parsley leaf didn’t work at all; it was far to overpowering and didn’t seem to move with enough dynamic; it didn’t compliment the Arums, but I felt the Japanese Anemone leaves did...

I very simply positioned them in the ceramic trough, with the help of some oasis, along with the Montbretia stems...

...and then added the Honeysuckle stem one Arum.

It took a few different attempts to make the Honeysuckle balance the piece with it’s natural shape and movement, and although I tried to emulate the 1960’s photograph in the book with 2 sections of ‘spikey’ leaves, it didn’t feel right.

One Arum didn’t feel right either, so I added a second, took away some Montbretia stems and placed a large stone I once brought back from a Cornish beach alongside, as I thought it somehow pulled out both the colour and the texture from the arrangement.