Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, Being stumpy and saying goodbye to Hostas. Charles Hawes intimated that I am short and stumpy in his blog  charleshawes.veddw.com   I guess he is right I am diminutive. To quote the prophet - ' the holy seed will be a stump in the land' . There is something powerful in the ability of a tree to regrow from a stump, to become a tree again, a tree with more branches because it was cut down. It is the same with the autumn garden, seeing the hostas going to sleep knowing they will return in spring with more spikes of new leaves. My stumpy body adjusts to grandparenthood just as my daughter's adjusts to motherhood. My jowls droop, grey hairs sprout from strange places, my belly sags and my gluteal muscles shrink so that my trousers no longer stay up on their own (all very attractive as you can imagine). Here is the truth - we age, we ache, we slip slowly toward the soil. Someone said this week that the ailments that befall us - the accidents, the il

Dear Monty, 22/9/12  Explaining the way of St Toff more excellently. I have put up a scallop shell on my studio wall in a gesture of unity with Charles Hawes and Bob (not that I know Bob) who are currently walking The Way of St James.  charleshawes.veddw.com Life seems to throw up some strange coincidences, as this very week - this not very good week - a fellow soul of life's great journey also mentions her desire to walk the way. Now in my innermost being I believe there is something to this 'way' - this walk, this pilgrimage. Last night after half sleeping through 'Gardeners World' and 'Parade's End', I seem to remember hearing you say to take time to see what a garden wants to be.....or words to that effect. I also remember passion and contentment found in the coming together of a lover and his beloved....a bit like the passionate Song of Solomon : 'do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires'. This journey of life is not eas

Dear Monty, Good friends,wisdom and astrantia. I half watched and half slept through Alistair Sooke and the Roman artwork he was discussing. I often do this when watching subjects which resonate with and relax me. I do this when you are presenting GW. It's not that either you or Alistair are boring, but that the subject matter relaxes me so much I have to fight my body sloughing off the stress of the week. What struck me about the homes of the Romans is how familiar they are to me. The nature of humanity and our culture has changed little in 2000 plus years. We are still as cruel, still as inflamed, still as observant, still as politically corrupt and still as beautiful. The fresco'd room of trees and birds and flowers as delicate, skillful and beautiful as the flower canvases by Winifred Nicholson. Human nature it seems is fixed in a kind of default position, and although we have 'progress' (which inherently seems to destroy the planet we live on ) at heart,

Dear Monty, There is no doubting the change in our climate, and no doubt I have a hand in it too. What I do doubt however is my ability to change what is happening...King Canute comes to mind...but I still try. Can music save us ? Music comes from a place which communicates directly on the level of our emotions. Music certainly saved me from anxious thoughts this very morning, sitting in the 'thinking room'. Music calms the troubled breast, just like when David played the harp to King Saul. Alison Levey known as Papaver to her  twitter.com  friends, blogged about a garden she visited recently which helped her absorb peace, I am not being flippant in these letters, I really believe that we can change how we view our world and the earth and everything in it. Absorb peace while you can, whether it is through listening to music or reading or sitting in your garden drinking a cup of tea, or cutting back or digging and smelling the newly turned soil, or the new cut grass,

Dear Monty, What is important ? I am often amazed by my own foolishness, but then along comes someone who puts life into perspective. I read this quote from the author Rose Tremain on Saturday whilst at  gardenofwales.org.uk  sitting at my stand of fresco paintings : 'The older you get the more you understand that the really important things in life are very few.' I too have noticed this, age seems to filter out the unimportant and sharpen our perception of the important. The dilemma for me though is whether this means I am becoming a conformist. I love those who rebel against conformity, but even non-conformists eventually settle into their own pattern of conformity. When the breakaway first happens, the result is vibrant and fresh, just like 'new' planting styles, but soon after comes conformity to this new trend. I loathe conformity, but to survive in this world it seems we have to conform. As I have rattled on about before - work life has become