Lilac

Looking at a finished branch, it is hard to imagine how many tiny flowers hide within a single cluster. Each one is made separately and travels a long path before becoming part of the whole composition.

First the centre of the flower is formed. Then, from a tiny drop of cold porcelain, the petals gradually appear. Every floret needs its shape, its texture, its curves; a slender stem is formed, and all the details are brought together.

And that is just one flower. Ahead lie dozens and hundreds of equally small blossoms, out of which a branch of lilac is slowly born.

At times the process feels endless. But that is precisely where its particular beauty lies. Lilac cannot be made quickly. It demands patience, attention and a love of the smallest details. Yet every time the work is finished, I know those hours were not spent in vain.

For all its airiness and lightness, lilac transforms a composition remarkably. It gives a bouquet depth, makes it more alive, fills the space between the larger flowers and lends a feeling of naturalness.

I think that is why I return to this flower again and again.