Project Calm Issue 14

One of my favourite artists, Georgia O’Keeffe, decided to paint flowers on such a large scale that we “could not ignore their beauty”. This came to mind in our interview with Woodlucker’s Ann Wood (page 26), whose accurate studies of flowers in paper are so detailed you could say the same. You’ll find your own paper flowers to make on page 18. Elsewhere this issue, Pragya Agarwal examines lullabies and other calming rituals for children. We’ve commissioned an exclusive nursery poster from illustrator Esther Curtis to hang in your child’s space, or to frame and gift to a new baby. Illustrators get lots of love this issue, in fact, from Angie Lewin’s lino-cut studies of pebbles to Ella Masters’ freehand phrases. We encourage you to draw as a form of therapy…

This issue we celebrate the language of flowers, from their symbolism in literature to the way they speak to our senses. Emma Mitchell’s beautiful piece about forest bathing in bluebell woods is testament to the healing power of plants. From feasting our eyes on, and breathing in, all that floral goodness, we turn to the tactile beauty of a palm-sized pebble. Be inspired to go beachcombing via Angie Lewin’s iconic watercolours and Cari-Jane Hakes’ soothing stone art. When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment.…

1 SPREAD A LITTLE SUNSHINE Spring has finally arrived and we are obsessed with the new sunshine pendant from London-based eco jewellery maker Zoe Morton. Her work is inspired by adventures, people, places and travels, lying out in the long grass, looking out to sea and staring at the stars. Her goal is to create beautiful, durable pieces that can be handed down from generation to generation, and her stamped sunshine pendant comes in recycled gold or brass – the perfect way to entice dreamy summer adventures over the next few months. Sunshine pendant starts from £95, available at zmorton.com with worldwide shipping. 2 FRESH FABRICS FOR SPRING Inspired by Victorian greenhouses and afternoon tea at Kew Gardens, the magnificent Thornback & Peel has revealed its latest fabric design for spring. London-based duo…

Mention the language of flowers and chances are you’ll think of the Victorians. Like clematis clambering through roses, floriography and secret-bearing posies are steadfastly entwined in our imaginations. However, its roots stretch back thousands of years. Our ability to marry the colours, scents and seasons of flowers to our own human traits is universal and perennial. Flora have always blossomed in religion, folklore, mythology and literature because they lend themselves so beautifully to expressing the most important things in our lives. Some of the earliest floral symbolism was seeded in the ancient Greek myths. In the tale of Narcissus, the beautiful son of a river god falls in love with his own reflection and, unable to leave it, wastes away. The bright yellow flowers named for him are said to have grown…

INDOOR BLOOMS Select your favourite vases and arrange your flowers. We love one stem in each vessel, or gather them together in one colourful posy. Place them on the table and every morning you’ll be greeted by radiant, everlasting flowers. What will you make your paper flowers into? Attach the flower heads to paper-wrapped wire stems, and maybe add little sparkling crystals that look like morning dew. Hunt for small glass containers or jars, or pretty vintage bud vases, then group your flowers and position them on a sunny windowsill for a forever display. Or back your flower with a brooch pin, a hairclip or a hairband to create an accessory that makes a fitting tribute to nature’s floral finery. You will need: pull-out flower sheets, scissors, glue gun, wire flower stems, small…

It is two months since I became unwell, and although I have lifted out of the worst of this bout of depression the shadow of low mood still lurks in my consciousness. However, as May begins, my instinct to seek out natural wonders that had been suppressed begins to reawaken. It is muffled at first but I am relieved that it has returned. While I was ill I stayed indoors and missed a significant part of the spring, but the slowing of the seasons means that cow parsley flowers have only just begun to emerge and bluebells are at their peak now, in early May. I am pleased that I haven’t missed them. The vestiges of depression are still clawing at my motivation and energy, but my compulsion to see that…