It was the Myth of Fingerprints

Tags

Bread Loaf, Canada, Cornish Blue, daffodils, flowers, Italo Calvino, Michael Armstrong, Walter Benjamin

“Above all, he must not be afraid to return again and again to the same matter; to scatter it as one scatters earth, to turn it over as one turns over soil.”– Walter Benjamin

For some reason, I cannot shake the fact that I have not bought daffodils this spring. Spring is over for the most part, and I did however buy peonies, sweet peas, roses, stock, lisianthus, ranunculus, and even lilac. These are all important to me yes, but who didn’t make the kindergarten pièce de résistance: the egg carton daffodil. Sometimes, mom and I call them daffodoodles. Maybe it’s a Canadian thing. But the Canadian women in my family know their flowers. Thank God, because I always did too, and now I am only one step away from gaining my Canadian citizenship. Therefore, by osmosis or Canuk Intervention, I too know my flowers.

This past summer, I took one of the greatest courses around. Not because of the literature, but because of Michael Armstrong. We studied Italo Calvino, a fantastical Italian writer from the 60s and 70s.

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