A Bouquet of Gratitude
I remember sitting at my grandma Bessie’s balcony on one of her large mahogany rocking chairs as a 5-year-old, thumbing through Selecciones del Reader’s Digest and parochial newsletters.... Somewhere within I remember reading the phrase Ramillete espiritual...a spiritual bouquet.
I thought about this phrase on my way back from my friend Anna's wedding reception at Terrace on the Park. I was waiting for a car to head back into Manhattan with Kelli, Zoe, Maury, and Rachel, and then I realized I had forgotten my party favor box upstairs. I raced into the elevator and then the banquet hall, got the box, saw the bridal bouquet on a service cart next to some dishes, and rescued it.
The flowers on the bouquet, to me, represent thoughts of gratitude, the greatest magic of all.
I went to Van and Kelly’s studio and asked Van to take my picture in front of a mysterious lignum vitae plank we had found on Union Street in Red Hook, near Figleaf, one night. Lignum vitae is known as guayacán in Puerto Rico—one of the densest woods in existence—used to build galleons and for beams in Old San Juan houses.
The only thing left standing of my father’s childhood home in Sabana Hoyos, Arecibo, is a lignum vitae column…now hidden within the forest. The plank Van and I brought to the studio has 54 holes, which he filled with wooden “host” sculptures.
The night the photo was taken I was wearing Koos’ favorite jacket, and his wool pants—which he made for himself—Adidas Campus sneakers, Scooter portrait tee, and Blue necklace with Lemurian seeds from Amma’s bazaar.
Photo by Van Wifvat
