This past weekend, I went to the Renegade Craft Fair and got totally inspired to try planting my succulents terrarium style with decorative pebbles, sand, and moss. Idea/inspiration credit goes completely to Terrarium Shop by Urban Anonymous. Check back soon for my Renegade round up to see what else I loved.
-A vessel (here I gathered a tuna can, pesto jar, and mini bottle)
-Tiny plastic animals (optional)
-Preserved and dyed reindeer moss
-Dyed pebbles (like for a fish tank, I bought a pack and separated the colors)
-Succulent (for a potentially kill-able terrarium, I lumped together two D.I.Y.’s)
TIP: Use the paint brush to push in moss, position mini animals and pebbles, and brush sand off the insides of bottles.
Another D.I.Y. with all the materials posted above coming soon!
I started this post almost two months ago (yikes) but never edited the photos. But then it turns out that I didn’t even take that many photos. And they were mostly blurry.
In my mind, I want to have a green thumb. I feel like I could be a person who’s good with plants (despite killing two air plants). While trying to beat a funk I’m in, I stayed up til 3am organizing and planting/replanting close to 30 succulents/succulent sprouts. I really hope they make it. I picked up broken/fallen off leaves from the plants on my deck, and they had already sprouted. This is maybe the one time procrastination turned into something wonderful.
Like I said, in May (when I started this post and planted the baby succulents) I was feeling pretty bummed. Caught between wanting to sleep forever and not wanting to sleep. Staying up all night but not having the drive, or even desire, to do anything. Just a quiet, nagging sense of dread and dissatisfaction with the direction of my life. So that night, two months ago, I really, really wanted these plants to grow. And very slowly, they have. A couple shriveled up, but the majority have made it. I’m sure there’s a sign or metaphor in there if you’re the kind of person who looks for that. I’m just happy I’ve got a mini garden going.
I had some business to take care of back home today. Managed to remember my camera. My parents have done a beautiful job of tearing out the lawn and planting succulents, rose bushes, and fruit trees. It’s incredibly inspiring, and I almost always seem to be sent off with a little plant.
I’ve never seen anything like this rose above before, if it is a rose. Any ideas what it is?
These pink poppies are volunteers and always manage to come in every year. They get about three feet tall.
We’ve had this little pond as long as I can remember. I’ve also fallen in it (as a child) more times than I can remember.
My folks also love to give succulents as gifts, and they’ve prepared over 80 little pots to give to friends.
One time in college I had an idea to make a gigantic, suspended cloud that people could stand inside and all you could see were their little legs coming out of the bottom. This was what I made from the remnants.
Humor has always been important to me. A coping mechanism. A leverage. Irreverent, fantastical, self-aware. I just want to make things that feel like an ideal extension or interpretation of myself. Art is selfish that way.
I feel like Los Angeles has a sort of begrudging self-awareness of what a caricature it is. That perceived glittery glamor of piss soaked sidewalks is at once baffling and charming in a way I don’t think any other city can be. New Yorkers seem to love to invite Angelinos to move back east while dismissing the merits of west coast living. But there’s something about living in a place so “young” and simultaneously full of ego and humility that makes me want to exhaust myself of all the driving and burritos and tourists before I consider calling any place else home.
PS: Happy birthday, Shakespeare.