In what feels like a lifetime ago, I used to live in a ramshackle old flat in Durban. It had incredible light from enormous windows, high ceilings typical of all the good old Morningside places, and soft yellow walls. It was also held together by bora and hope. I loved it. I shared this space with two incredible souls I still get to call friends.
Every Saturday we’d walk to the Essenwood market to eat pancakes, peruse art and buy anthuriums. I was working a corporate job back then, and while I learned so much about myself, people and business, my farm girl soul was in desperate need of space, active creativity and flowers. The anthurium were a tiny piece of that … a tiny piece of what was to come. They were a little more oxygen in an oxygen deprived room.
In the words of a wise friend, for whom the anthurium is the flower of Durban, this is “the power of flowers” manifest. The beautiful power of flowers indeed. For them I am forever grateful.