I'm in the Garden

We are stardust, we are golden, and we've got to get ourselves back to the ga-a-a-rden.....

Why have I not been blogging? You mean beside the fact that I feel writing these entries is a bit pretentious? I have been working on GARDEN PRODUCTS.

Benches, tables, windchimes, planters, bells, finials, birdhouses, sundials...the list goes on and on. We have been contacted by a company that is interested in licensing my designs for these items. Great opportunity; and aren't MUD and the GARDEN a good match?

Ah, but here's the thing: I'm a chicca from New York City. Last garden I had was outside of an apartment on 81st street: it was a 4 x 4 patio of cement. I believe I still was able to kill the few weeds that popped up back there. My most important garden accessory at that time (this is a while ago folks) was a big old glass ashtray.

Now my parents were amazing gardeners. My mother was truly talented; our gardens was full of every kind of flower you can imagine: irises were her favorite. I'm trying to remember what her favorite garden accessories were, but all that comes to mind are white porcelain coffee cups with a half moon of lipstick on the rim, scattered throughout the garden. She would work for hours, leaving a trail of cold coffee in mugs behind her.

So I am sitting in my studio in NYC: horns blare outside, it's about 30 degrees today. I AM STUMPED and I don't mean that in a garden-pun kind of way.

So if you wonder where I've gone; just know I am in the garden. Hoping something will bloom. Hoping inspiration will flower. But most likely, just getting a wet butt from sitting too long in the grass lost in thought.