A Creative Outlet

Disclaimer: The daisy helmet is a Google Image graphic.  I have not gone 'over the edge'—yet.

Another symptom of ataxia is diminished fine motor control.  Once I had excellent penmanship, now I can barely write*.  Fortunately, I retired from nursing before the loss of fine motor movement began to noticeably manifest.  I was never a good keyboarder but, since word processing takes so long now, it's helpful to have time and a spell checker.  I can't play the piano now, but I never played before, so that was no big loss.  My grandchildren print, color, paint, and cut better than I do.  "That's OK, Grandma..I'll do it." they say delightedly.

I was on the lookout for a creative outlet that didn't make me look bad or threaten my well–being.  Painting was out–required talent and good hands.  I was never very skilled at gardening and falling in the dirt didn't have much appeal.  Everything else seemed to require hand/eye coordination.  I may have attractive hands, but they're not terribly functional at this point in time.  The good news is that Earl has become a regular farmer and keeps me in flowers. 

I have a memory of my mother pursuing floral arranging as her creative endeavor.  Our family moved to a new Air Force base every two years and that life style was difficult for an intelligent spouse in the traditional fifties.  Disciplined, simple flower arranging sustained her.  She actually studied Floral Ikebana and came to view her beautiful Asian arrangements as art.  Along with the genetic spinocerebellar ataxia**,  I inherited her talent and love for flowers, assimilating her principles (floral arranging principles, that is).  Some arrangements are simple like Mom's, some are over the top—like Mom.


Northwest flowers are abundant in July and August and I find myself enjoying the seasonal bounty.  With the help of Oasis™/wet floral foam and floral frogs, I don't need to have fine motor control—just an eye for balance (pardon the pun), good aim, and time.

Even in the dead of winter, there is a choice of greenery in most yards.  When there's not a flower in sight, greens and twigs can make a Northwest–themed arrangement.  I do realize that not everyone shares my love of branches, so I confine those to home.  Once friends were reassured that I wasn't going to show up for dinner with sticks in hand, the invitations resumed.


As with any field, there are tools of the trade. I have a friend who goes to the wholesale flower market.  He's my 'dealer' and made the mistake of sending me the floral supply catalog.  I was out of the gate. "WELL—since you asked...I need floral clay, oasis, tape, plastic inserts, etc."  It was basic equipment for a florist, but a sign of an addiction problem in an amateur.
And books?  There are several books on Amazon.  And vases?  Never met a flower vase I didn't like.  Arranging flowers and taking them as a hostess gift can be done simply, but that's no fun. 

The lesson:  It's easy to turn a simple avocation into an expensive hobby.  You don't need good hands, you just have to want to.

* Previous post: Handwriting
** Previous post:Thanks, Mom