The symbolism of flowers started in ancient times, usually linked to a religion or religious deities. Nature and Flowers were seen as a reflection of the divine in the Renaissance and Victorian times. Due to the social rules of Victorian era, feelings and expressing one’s self were frowned upon, so flowers were given emotional meanings and symbolismand were used to express one’s self in an accepted way. Expression with flowers evolved into a very complex language in Victorian times, the practice spawned books about the subject, for example Kate Greenaway’s Language of Flowers (1884) and the language of flowers is still practiced today. Flowers became adornments, decorative motifs, girls’ names and special gifts. Today, flowers are present in all the major events in our lives, birth, marriage, holidays, graduation, illness and death.
Flowers have been the subject matter for great artistic master pieces like Van Gogh’s Sunflowers series and Monet’s Waterlilies and inspiration for great poetry, for example: Wadsworth’s Wandered Lonely as a Cloud and William Blake’s Ah! Sunflower.
Buying and Selling flowers have a world wide market, whole gardens are devoted to flowers, they are used in teas, some are used as spices, hops flowers are used to flavor beer and dandelion flowers are made into wine.
Fun Flower Facts:
The rose is the best known symbol of beauty and love.
Tulip bulbs can be used in stead of onions for cooking.
California is the source for 60% of all U.S.A. grown fresh cut flowers.
The Titan Arum is the world largest and smelliest flower.
I started making wooden/felted Waldorf dolls using a wooden base for each doll, a felt “outfit” and needle felted head covering and tail (if applicable). Forest friends seemed like a good place to start since the forest is a familiar place to many of us and there are so many characters that live in the forest. As a little girl, I lived in a rural area of Indiana; my woodland adventures took place on my grandfather’s farm. As I created these dolls, I imagined all of the characters that fit into the forest group because I like to make groups of things.
My grandfather’s name was Forest and he adored nature. He delighted in sharing magical places with us and showing us the little things that make nature wonderful. My parents, siblings and myself boarded a hay wagon, pulled by a tractor driven by my grandfather; he navigated the forest, pointing out interesting sites like the old log cabin where he was born. I was amazed at the way he found his way through the trees, without a path or road, he knew his way through these forests from growing up in them. We stopped at a slate bed creek, deep in the woods; my grandfather jumped off the tractor and waded into the creek. My brother, sister and I followed him into the water.
My grandfather fished out several tiny, brown lizards, he called mud puppies. Being a tom-boy, I loved all the “pets” that he brought to us; I was the proud “parent” of a menagerie of animals and reptiles . I put the mud puppies in a plastic cup and carried them home to my aquarium. Turtles were another favorite gift from my grandfather, my turtles lived in a big sandbox in our yard. On this particular woodsy outing, he continued to search in the creek.
My grandfather pulled several pieces of what looked like rectangular rocks out of the creek, he handed my brother, sister and I each a piece. These rocks were pieces of petrified wood, pieces of wood that had been in the water for so long they had turned to stone. We all got back on the wagon and my grandfather continued his nature tour.
Chugging through the woods on our hay wagon and tractor, my grandfather pointed out a huge hornet’s nests in the tree branches above and drove safely around them. We stopped a few times and turned off the noisy tractor to observe the wildlife that wondered by during which time my mother worried that we would get poison ivy standing in the tall grasses. It seemed much later than it really was in the sunfiltered forest, but once we hit the clearing, we realized that it was only midday.
We headed through the clearing back into the trees, being careful to close the gates behind us so the cows wouldn’t get out. We drove down a steep hill to the edge of the lake and stopped. My grandfather handed each of us kids a cane fishing pole he’d made for us, we baited our hooks with worms and set out to catch dinner. My dad caught most of the fish on his own pole by casting, once we had enough to eat my dad and I started cleaning and filleting the fish. My mother and grandmother cooked the fish over a campfire.
After dinner we swam in the lake and then everyone headed back to the farm house before it got dark. Smelling of lake water and mosquito spray, I tucked away my petrified rock and made sure my mud puppies were o.k. , I laid in the big feather bed listening to the crickets chirp before I fell fast asleep, exhausted from my adventure in the forest.
Several years ago I visited the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, it had been redesigned and it had a new format for the viewers, one that led them through the events of history in a twisty, turny path. I had been there before and not much was new to me, the sadness was the same and surrealistic quality of this historic event pervaded. On this visit, I came upon an exhibit that I’d never seen before, one that has stayed with me ever since, one that spoke to me more than the others.
I can’t remember their names and I can’t find anything about this exhibit on the internet, but I remember the story. Prisoners were given various jobs, one Jewish prisoner was given the job of toy maker, the prisoner’s creative talents had spared her life. Day in and day out her job was to make beautiful toys for the German children. One of the toys that she made, she kept hidden away; she had made a flower doll for her daughter whom she hoped to see again one day. The old, ragged cloth doll was displayed in a small glass case amongst many other tragic stories in the museum. The history of the flower doll was written on a small plaque, it pointed out some of the harshest realities of the war, the ones that involved the children. The woman’s daughter did not survive the war and she never received the flower doll that her mother made for her.
Flowers and toys seem out of place is such a horrible setting and I try not to think about the realities of the flower doll story, lest they take me to a dark place that I don’t want to be. I’ve always wanted to make a flower doll, not only because of the flower doll story, but because I think flowers bring people joy, hope and beauty and all of us need those things, no matter what our situation.
Playscapes are toys meant to give the fertile minds of children a place to romp. I thought maybe a playscape could also be a means of learning and a way to make learning more fun. How many times have you copied the map, whited out the names of the countries and oceans and given it back to you child to fill in? My playscape has no names so your child can learn to recognize the shapes of the continents, oceans and seas.
I figure you can make a game out of the playscape, play figures and suggested areas for discovery. With the help of an adult or older sibling, two or more can play the game. One player should ask where the Sahara desert is (for example), the other players will place their dune on the area they believe the famous desert to be. If you’re right, you get a point, and the player with the most points at the end of the game wins. The adult or older sibling can help the other players research certain areas of interest on the Internet or on an atlas, further explaining the list of places suggested for discovery. I needle felted the little play figures to help mark the special areas like deserts, dunes, volcanoes, forests, oceans, seas, lakes, rivers, plains, islands and mountains. I made a list of five of the most well known in each category, as a guide for discovery. The little ship sails the world, discovering interesting places.
I haven’t studied geography in years and I really enjoyed the research I did for the location card. Not too long ago, I was in the United States shopping for groceries. I struck up a conversation with the check out clerk and bag boy. They asked me where I lived, I told them Israel. They replied “Israel!, isn’t that like another country?” Let me tell you, there is a need for a game like this!
I think this could be good cocktail party game for adults too, let’s call it World Traveler. If you find the suggested location, you get to do a shot and the winner is the one who can find their way home at the end of the game!