Words, Floral Design and Photography by Ashley Bailey
Jillian admired the delicate corn-husks as she sprayed them with water then ironed them flat. After placing them under books for a night, she arranged the husks on the floor and carefully hot-glued each one to the next creating a large half-lace, half-lattice cover for the table she had just freshly painted her favorite color; lilac.
I have this habit of looking at people’s hands like I’m looking for clues. I find they reveal so much more than most people are willing to offer. They tell a story.
As Vincent Hooper hauls 50-pound burlap sacks of oysters, I can’t help but notice that his hands are big—too big for his average size, as if they grew in spite of him. His fingers look swollen and ashy around the joints and cuticles. The skin across the backs of his hands stretch tight, like leather gloves that are too small and worn to offer any real protection.
Driving along the many pastures on the long country road that lead to my childhood home in Mississippi, I learned early on to recognize certain flowers that preceded the onset of summer. There was one spot (right by that heavy metal gate that I dreaded having to get off my three-wheeler to open) where I knew to watch for the annual sea of dandelion blooms.
