My work as a florist is to connect the wonder and beauty of the natural world to places and events that call for a saturation of color, texture, mood and emotion. 

 

Providence,  Rhode Island

 

My fascination with flowers and love for the seasons began when I was a kiddo in the country.

Winter: Cats tiptoeing through snow, red sleds from the hardware store, ice cakes melting off mittens and onto the floor, the dirty ash and spicy fragrance of a wood stove, cups of chocolate (hot) and monopoly.  

Spring: the thick smell of mud, tiny tender green shoots, daffodils donning Easter bonnets, a crabapple tree hideaway, hard crushes, shrunken shirts of last year, the way bread smells when its carried by soft warm wind. 

Summer: Creektime, crawfish,  picnics in red-checks, tree forts, tent revivals, sticky heat,  sweet peas, tiger lilies and cornflower. Also picking potato bugs off the leaves for a penny per.

Autumn: Fresh cool nights, crackle wood and crunchy leaves, wood chops and new books, piano practice, pumpkins and squash and the very last tomato from the garden. 

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If you find resonation in my recollections, then you will probably understand the way I work, we will likely be a good fit, and I look forward to collaborating. 

-Moriah Harris