



Showcasing a single type of flower – here, it’s spring daffodils – this technique is easy and carefree.
Ingredients:
15 stems common daffodils, from my garden
Multiple lengths of coral-pink twig dogwood, cut approximately 2 inches wider than the vase opening. Any straight, woody branch will work, including vine maple, pussy willow or the colorful twig dogwood (Cornus sanguinea or C. sericea)
Vase:
6-inch tall x 6-inch square glass vase (this design adapts to any square or rectangular glass vase)
Other supplies:
Decorative pebbles
Twine-wrapped wire (available at craft stores in natural or green)
Design 101
Borrow inspiration: The idea for this bouquet came from a project featured in Design, a publication of The Flower Arranging Study Group of the Garden Club of America. Whenever you’re inspired by another designer’s technique, it’s important to give it your own twist rather than make a direct copy. For example, the original creation used florist’s foam inside the container, but I found it unnecessary, especially since the pebbles and twigs are enough to hold the daffodil stems in place.
NOTE: Each Sunday of this year, I will post my photographs, “recipe” and tip for that week’s floral arrangement, created for my new book, Slow Flowers.
Enjoy the floral journey through 52 weeks of the year~

Evergreen magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora), parrot tulips, rosemary, Japanese fantail willow and bare magnolia branches in bud fill one of my favorite white vases.

A sweet detail of those luscious tulips – don’t they play nicely with the rusty side of the magnolia foliage?
Ingredients:

My cover shot, a perfect way to kick off springtime! Tulips, willows and camellia branches – all contained in a brilliant, matte green urn.
NOTE: Each Sunday of this year, I will post my photographs, “recipe” and tip for that week’s floral arrangement, created for my new book, Slow Flowers. Enjoy the floral journey through 52 weeks of the year~

Yes, I have her signature in my used copy of “Flowers in House and Garden,” published in 1937. Signed in pencil, the inscription is dated February 1939.
Lately, I’ve been reading a lot about the first celebrity floral designer, Constance Spry.
If you haven’t heard about her, check out the newish biography called The Surprising Life of Constance Spry, by Sue Shephard (2011). Mrs. Spry was at her peak of popularity between the two World Wars, and I loved reading about her magnificent cutting garden that supplied her London studio and shop called Flower Decoration in the ’30s, ’40s and ’50s.
Speaking of Flower Decoration, that is the name of a volume that Mrs. Spry wrote in 1933. Re-issued in 1993, you can find it online used, filled with her strong opinions, witticisms, and black-and-white photographs of floral arrangements. These are a little dated, of course, but what stands out to me is the eclectic lineup of ingredients, which includes many flowers, foliage and edibles that today’s hip floral designers think they’ve popularized.
Guess what? Mrs. Spry did it first!
The rest of us have just discovered the ingredients with which she created lush, naturalistic, unfussy bouquets. Cherry tomatoes, grape clusters, gourds, fig leaves, sea-kale, agapanthus seed heads, amaranth, rhubarb and artichokes are wonderful floral elements showing up in couture bouquets and magazine spreads. But Constance Spry used them first – and that’s quite fun to RE-discover.
READ MORE…
Vase: 5-inch tall x 9-inch wide cobalt blue vintage bowl with 6½-inch opening
Welcome to 2013! Each Sunday of this year, I will post my photographs, “recipe” and tip for that week’s floral arrangement, created for my new book, Slow Flowers. Enjoy the floral journey through 52 weeks of the year~
“Frosty White”
Ingredients:
Vase:
Excerpted from Debra Prinzing’s Slow Flowers: Four Seasons of Locally Grow Bouquets from the Garden, Meadow and Farm (St. Lynn’s Press, February 2013 publication date)
[Author’s note: This is the introduction of my forthcoming book, “Slow Flowers,” which will be published February 1, 2013. You can pre-order it here.]
One of the joys of gardening is to step out my back door and clip a few sprigs to bring inside. The day’s prettiest blooms and just-unfurled leaves – assembled simply into a bunch and displayed in a jar of water – provide everything I need to start the day. The tiny arrangement graces my kitchen counter or brightens a spot by the keyboard, connecting me with the natural world even when I’m “stuck” indoors, away from my beloved garden.
IS THIS FLORAL DESIGN?
I guess it is, but like avid gardeners everywhere, I certainly never considered myself a florist. After all, despite hundreds of hours of horticulture training, I never once studied the art of flowers, other than one weekend class on liturgical arrangements that I took with my Episcopal priest friend Britt Olson. Floral design was an entirely different sort of activity for which I wasn’t qualified (I thought). I’m a writer and a lover of plants, but not an artist.
I have written about floral design for years, interviewing top florists around the country for articles in magazines like Seattle Bride, Romantic Homes and Sunset. I loved reporting those stories, and I have to admit feeling a twinge of jealousy as I listened to flower artists answer questions about their style and technique, their use of botanicals and vessels – and especially, their inspiration.
I have spent my life observing and writing about creative people. But I didn’t really believe that I was one of them! I was the classic journalist: a detached outsider documenting what she heard and saw.
Yet writers are sponges and driven by an insatiable, need-to-know curiosity. In pursuit of our stories, we can’t help but absorb knowledge about myriad topics, taught to us by generous subjects whose own passion is infectious. That’s exactly what happened to me while story-gathering for my most recent project, The 50 Mile Bouquet. I loved shaping the narrative about the many talented individuals who are part of the local flower movement.
During the creation of that book with photographer David Perry, my own bouquet-making activity was on the rise. I was beginning to see the gardens around me in a new way: in all four seasons, rather than only during July when the perennials peaked. The palette of possibilities expanded greatly, thanks to my interviews with the gifted flower farmers and designers profiled in The 50 Mile Bouquet.
My previously-spontaneous bouquet-making gestures soon became a weekly ritual. I discovered that just like designing a container garden or a display border, there is great satisfaction in choosing flowers and companion elements – and then assembling them into a beautiful composition in just the right vase.
I often photographed my design process. Documenting each step seemed like a good idea, either for my own reference, for a blog post or to illustrate a future lecture.
And then, one September day as I was making a bouquet out of burnished autumn leaves, green millet seed heads and the last dahlias of the fading summer, I had a brainstorm that led to the birth of my new book, Slow Flowers. I jotted down some ideas, including this one:
There’s a common misconception that it’s impossible, or at least tricky, to find enough beautiful ingredients in one’s own garden or region during certain times of the year for creating interesting seasonal floral arrangements. Taking the Do-it-Yourself designer’s point of view, I want to disprove that notion by making bouquet-a-week – all year long. My goal is to inspire others to create personal bouquets with what’s at hand, if only they begin to see what’s around them with new eyes.
I launched the project then and there, and continued it for 52 weeks. As each season unfolded, so too did my passion for floral design. My experiment turned into a season-by-season, week-by-week book of ideas and inspiration for gardeners and DIY floral designers.
WHY SLOW FLOWERS?
The idea for the title of this book emerged organically. We had used the term “slow flowers” as part of the marketing for The 50 Mile Bouquet – and to our surprise, nearly every major newspaper and magazine that reviewed the book picked up on it as a reference to a cultural shift in consumer attitudes toward local, seasonal and sustainably-grown flowers.
So when editor Cathy Dees and publisher Paul Kelly and I got serious about finding a book title, Slow Flowers seemed like the “just-right” description of my one-year floral design experiment. Thanks to the culinary pioneers who popularized the Slow Food movement, it now seems like you can put “slow” in front of any term to convey a different philosophy or approach to that subject. When I say the phrase “slow flowers,” there are those who immediately understand it to mean: I have made a conscious choice.
My blooms, buds, leaves and vines are definitely in season; not, for example, grown and brought in from elsewhere around the world during the wet, cold winter months in my hometown of Seattle. So come December and January, my commitment to sourcing locally-grown floral materials sends me to the conifer boughs, colored twigs, berry-producing evergreens – and the occasional greenhouse-grown rose, lily or tulip, just to satisfy my hunger for a bloom.

I made my book's cover bouquet using locally-grown tulips and curly willow; the camellia stems (with buds) came from my garden.
Slow Flowers (the concept and the book) is also about the artisanal, anti-mass-market approach to celebrations, festivities and floral gifts of love. I value my local sources. If not clipped from my own shrubs or cutting garden, I want to know where the flowers and greenery were grown, and who grew them. Having a relationship with the grower who planted and nurtured each flower is nothing short of magical. I call so many flower farmers around the country my friends. They are the unsung heroes – the faces behind the flowers we love.
Finally, Slow Flowers reflects life lived in the slower lane. My family, friends and professional colleagues know that it’s almost impossible for me to do anything slowly. I’m the queen of multitasking; I just can’t help myself. There are too many exciting opportunities (or bright, shiny objects) that command my interest. But this “year in flowers” was altogether different. I can only compare it to the practice of praying or meditating. I didn’t realize that those few hours I spent each week, gathering and choosing petals and stems, arranging them in a special vessel, and then figuring out where and how to capture the finished design through my camera lens, would be so personally enriching.
I used all my senses. Unplugged, away from electronic distractions, I studied the form, line, texture, subtle color and utter uniqueness of each stem. What a gift to slow down and experience the moment. I don’t know much about ikebana, the Japanese art of arranging flowers, but I understand that silence and contemplation of nature are part of its practice. I experienced something similar. Slow Flowers forced me to work at a decidedly different pace as I embraced creativity, fearlessly.
I learned about my own preferences, design style and ability to look at the world of floral ingredients in an unconventional way. I learned that I really am a floral designer. Like me, you don’t have to earn a certificate from the London School of Floral Design to create seasonally-inspired bouquets. You can find local blooms in your or your friend’s garden, or from the fields, meadows and farm stands of local flower growers. Each bouquet tells a story about one moment in time, about Grandmother’s cherished flower vase or the fleeting memory that returns with a whiff of lavender or lilac. That’s one of the intangible gifts of bringing flowers into our lives.
I love the old-fashioned definition of a Florist, appropriately portrayed in a flower shop sign I noticed on a visit to Chicago: “One in the business of raising or selling flowers and ornamental plants.” It underscores my belief that if you grow flowers and ornamental plants, you can also arrange them.
Gardeners are especially qualified in the art of floral design. After all, we have an intimate relationship with our plants, their bloom cycle, their natural form and character – and their seasonality. We also know what colors and textures we like when combined in the landscape. A vase can be a little garden, its contents gathered and arranged to please the eye.
So give it a try. Design a bouquet. Channel your inner floral designer and begin your own year with slow flowers.
Earlier this week I was hosted by my dear friend and fellow Garden Writer board member Nan Sterman when I flew to San Diego to give a talk to the San Diego Horticultural Society. I love the title that Mary James of SDHS gave my talk: “Bring me Slow Flowers” – a fun play of words on the title of my next book. Using images I’ve shot over the past several years, my lecture incorporated concepts from The 50 Mile Bouquet and Slow Flowers.
Here are the highlights of my (almost) 72 hours in San Diego:
First, I visited Hasan and Ayse Kayali, some of our oldest friends from college days. My husband Bruce and Hasan were jumpers (long/triple) for Harvard’s Track Team back in the day and we never, ever get to spend enough time together. However, all of us were together in Tuscany in 2009, for a week at Villa Maddalena in the town of Montisi. That was pretty special. After a late, but delicious, lunch, we took a walk on the beach at La Jolla Shores.
After I said good-bye to the Kayalis, I headed to Encinitas, just a few miles north. Nan Sterman and Curt Wittenberg welcomed me with a flavorful Moroccan chicken dinner prepared by Curt, and we stayed up way too late just talking. Nan and I figured out that after this month (December), we will see one another in January (GWA Winter Board Meeting – Austin, TX); February (Northwest Flower & Garden Show – Seattle, WA); March (SF Flower & Garden Show – San Mateo, CA); April (when I’m back in San Diego to speak) . . . and of course, in August, when our GWA annual symposium heads to Quebec City. Nice to anticipate!
On Monday morning, I headed over to Carlsbad, Calif., to visit the very famous René van Rems, a world-class floral designer and friend of Nan’s.
I’ve known of René because of his books (including René’s Bouquets: A guide to Euro-Style Hand-Tied Bouquets) and others. He is an internationally recognized designer, consultant and instructor, born in Holland, but based in San Diego for the past 30 years.
Last year, René established a new studio in Carlsbad, north of San Diego. I was so impressed with the interior space – as you can see here. It’s suitable for large-scale production for big events, for René’s many floral design workshops, and for private events. René considers himself to be in the “business of creativity,” and he loves to teach everyone – from the DIY flower-lover to the professional who participates in his advanced Master Classes.
René signed and gifted me two of his recent books — the hardback version of René’s Bouquets and his way-cool new book: Rene’s Bouquets for Brides. I felt a little inadequate giving him a signed copy of The 50 Mile Bouquet, but he was quite gracious about it. And, he was very kind to come and attend my lecture that evening. Please check out René’s beautiful work at his website, here.
Nan picked me up around lunchtime and we headed out to Fallbrook, Calif., about 45 minutes east of Carlsbad. We were on a floral mission: To visit Rainbow Protea, an exotic cut flower farm that grows South African and Australian flowers in the Proteaceae family.
A special thanks to Dawn Bonner, whose family owns Rainbow Protea, and to sales & marketing whiz, Kim Jernegan, who hosted us. Kim loaded Nan and me into a pickup truck and we traversed the bloom-filled hills of the 198-acre farm on a brilliant December afternoon.
Rainbow Protea began operations in 1985. While some may liken the hilly terrain approximately 20 miles inland from the Pacific Ocean and 60 miles north of San Diego as “similar” to South Africa, Kim begs to differ.
She points out that to grow thousands of flowering sub-tropical shrubs — Protea, Leucadendron, Leucospermum, Banksia, Leptospermum, Chamelaucium (Wax flowers), Anigozanthos (Kangaroo Paws) and other Mediterranean specimens — the farm’s crew has to use an auger-style drill and major amendments.
Those include primarily organic addititives such as fish fertilizers, worm compost, compost tea and kelp products.
Enjoy my photographs of the plants that earned my affection.
Kim sent me home with a bountiful box of blooms, which I have been enjoying all week.
The wonderful thing about these exotic members of the Proteaceae family is that they are VERY long-lasting in the vase.
You need to re-cut the stems and refresh the H20 every two to three days; but then you can plan on having an exotic, modern-looking arrangement for weeks and weeks.
Finally, I was welcomed by the members of the San Diego Horticultural Society. I felt like the room was filled with kindred spirits – gardeners who want to learn more about the plants they grow; people who are eager to try new things, including floral design. A great visit – and one that I will always cherish. Nan, Curt, Karen Bussolini (a writer/photographer friend who was in town, visiting from Connecticut), Bonnie Manion and I closed down the night with a late dinner at Il Forniao. Very satisfying!
Before I left the following morning, I squeezed in a visit to fellow garden blogger Bonnie Manion of vintagegardengal.com. I first met Bonnie in 2009 when Country Gardens magazine asked me to write about her vintage container designs for spring bulbs. The story was called “Tour de Forced Bulbs.”
Later, after we moved from Seattle to Southern California, Bonnie and I finally met in person – and we had several fun adventures, including our day-trip to the Long Beach Flea Market with Lorene Edwards Forkner and Kathy LaFleur. Bonnie is an amazing designer, writer and winemaker (with her husband John Manion). While our time was short, I was tickled to spend a little time with her, touring their newly renovated home, barn, barrel room and more…and talking about the book-biz, blogging and gardening.
Look for exciting things coming from Bonnie in the near future, including a new book on keeping chickens!
Okay, enough for now. Please enjoy these photos and check out all the people I’ve highlighted in this blog post.
There’s a sequel to The 50 Mile Bouquet and you will be able to hold it in your hands come February 1, 2013!
Above, you see the cover mock-up featuring my photo of a simple arrangement I created for a 2011 Northwest Flower & Garden Show demonstration. My green urn holds two types of locally grown tulips from Alm Hill Gardens in Whatcom County, as well as curly willow branches and camellia branches from my former garden. Simple and graphic. Gorgeous cover art designed by Holly Rosborough, St. Lynn Press’s art director.
Yes, the good news is that St. Lynn’s Press will publish SLOW FLOWERS: Four Seasons of Locally Grown Bouquets from the Garden, Meadow and Farm. The book features 52 weeks of seasonal floral arrangements created and photographed by Moi!
Here’s the book’s description:
The slow food movement (with its hundreds of thousands of members and supporters) has changed our relationship with the foods in our lives. Now the slow flower movement is changing the way we think about cut flowers: Yes, we’d all prefer fresh, fragrant flowers in our bouquets, not the chemical-laden “undead” blooms flown in from afar – but what to do in those seasons when not much is growing locally? Debra Prinzing challenged herself to create a beautiful, locally grown bouquet for each of 52 weeks of one year (going beyond flowers to include ornamental twigs, foliage, greenhouse plants, dried pods, and more), to demonstrate that all four seasons have their own botanical character to be celebrated. She provides extensive design tips, bouquet “recipes” and region-by-region floral ingredient lists that can be found in all climate zones through the year. Slow Flowers is written from a DIY floral designer’s point of view, to inspire anyone to go green and make a beautiful bouquet with what’s at hand, no matter the season.
More details to come, but you can help me out by pre-ordering a copy on Amazon. Yeah!!!
Earlier this month, I headed to San Francisco for Mother’s Day weekend. It started when Flora Grubb and Susie Nadler, two of the superstars of The 50 Mile Bouquet, invited me to be part of the Mother’s Day events at Flora Grubb Gardens. It was the perfect excuse to combine a visit to meet my own mom (and dad) in San Francisco. And then Baylor Chapman of Lila B. Flowers, another superstar of our book, invited me to be part of her activities as part of the SF Made Week. We filled those 48 hours to the brim with flowers, friends and family. A special thanks to Sophia Markoulakis, food and garden writer, for featuring The 50 Mile Bouquet and the Mother’s Day book-signings in her article for the San Francisco Chronicle, ‘Slow-flower’ movement’s power sprouts with new book.
Here are some of the photos from the trip:

Spending time with floral artist Baylor Chapman is always a treat. We're at the Lila B. Flowers pop-up shop at the Stable Cafe on Folsom Street.

At Flora Grubb's on Mother's Day, including (from left) Flora and her mom, Susie's mom, Susie, and me.
© Debra Prinzing, all written and photographic content. Website design/development by Willo Bellwood/Metric Media