Ever since I was finishing high school, I've had a violet in this same violet pot.
I love violets. They actually make me think of my mother and our old kitchen from when I was a very little girl. I can picture the light coming through the kitchen window, and a furry-leafed little violet perched happily on the windowsill. It's not the violet that I remember, or the kitchen, or my mom, but rather the way those moments felt. I loved to sit on the counter and be involved with what she was doing. She's so beautiful, inspiring, and strong and whatever she was cooking was always sooo good. When I could get up high enough to reach, I'd rub the little velvet leaves with my tiny fingers.
I don't remember why I got the plant in high school. Probably because the pot was my favorite color and cheap, so I needed something to put in it. It was always interesting to me how the plant seemed to mirror my life. When things were thriving, the flowers would bloom and bursts of new leaves would emerge from the soil as if they were just waiting for the right moment to shine. I had it for years, and even moved it out with me as my life changed. I lived in a very dark house for about two years, and eventually it died. Ironically so had my path with photography, and the relationship I had been in at the time. I was at an all time low, but I kept the pot.
When I moved into my first house, all on my own, changed careers, and started making plans to attend photography school (a year and a half ago) buying a new violet was one of the first things I did. I think I had a violet before I had a bed, couch, or tv! And of course, it sat on my kitchen windowsill, perfectly content. It flourished. And so did I. The year before I came to Missoula was one of the best growing points for me in my life. And when I left Oklahoma, of course the violet came along. Three days in a hot sunny car didn't go over so well though, and by the time I reached Missoula, all of the growth had to be trimmed away. I was left with a pot of dirt and a few leafless stems. 5 months later and look at it. It's beautiful.
It took all 5 months for it to get this far, and it's just a few fuzzy leaves. But that's okay. I think this is much like my life right now, and this huge endeavour I have to become this amazing show stopping photographer. It's going to take patience, time, constant nurturing... and there will probably be moments when I have to trim all the dead growth and start from scratch. Eventually, though, a flower will rise from the thickest,toughest soil, and it will be a good day.
Well, actually, it already is.