Everything dies in layers

A monthly plant scrapbook

There are signs when something is ready to die. A shift in how the air moves, a transition of color, a restlessness in the bones. The layers are peeled back, one by one. As if the universe wants to dissect this thing it created in search of its own mysteries, before it returns to the soil.

So much is still in bloom and has yet to bloom. But those first nudges are bleeding into the leaves and the trees and the land. Everything is painted more beautiful as colors blend and textures change, even as life fades.

As I’m diving deeper into what medicine means and how the creative spirit has its hand in everything, I wanted to do a little something different instead of just writing with this newsletter. I’ve kept a journal/sketchbook/herbarium for as long as I remember. For me, creating with my hands has been one of the deepest sources of connection and devotion to the natural world that I’ve experienced.

So, I wanted to share a few spreads from my latest explorations in the garden and wild spaces here. These journals usually have a chaotic conglomeration of drawings, little written lessons that come to me as I draw, and occasionally pressed plants.

If this is something that is interesting to folks, I was thinking of making one newsletter a month devoted to these sort of creative explorations. I can include more spreads, process videos, maybe a sketchbook tour for the month.

But for this short little plant scrapbook newsletter, I was really leaning into this transitional time when the green earth is still humming, but winter is beginning to trickle in.

The late summer cacophony of the landscape is chaotic and rich like a well-woven tapestry.

Nasturtiums are one of the most vivacious plants in the garden that will bloom throughout summer and all the way up until frost. It’s a joy to draw their billowy shapes and jewel tones.

left: nasturtiums in the garden // right: Plum Cove Beach in Cape Ann, MA

I love the burgundy tones that seep into the blackberry leaves, just around the edges at first. The half moon was shining deep into the day as I worked with this plant.

I love the contrast in the land right now. The gentians (fringed and bottle) are just beginning to bloom their brilliant blues and purples while the bracken fern turn vibrant shades of gold as they die.

Look at all of these beautiful patterns and colors!

I didn’t want to bombard you with too many sketches and snapshots as I dip my toes into this concept. But let me know if you want to dive deeper into my personal journals here, or if you document your own sort of visual record keepers.

Much love,

Val

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