The blank page. It’s every writer’s worst nightmare, especially when the ideas aren’t flowing.
The brown dirt. It’s every green thumb’s most exciting adventure. Into what will they transform this desolate nothing?
My life is the dirt and the blank page, wrapped into one. I’m trying to build my palace, my garden, my everything, from the dirt up. Yet, nothing can come all at once.
So, I start small. A small pot here, to grow lavender flowers (lavender helps ward off plant-eating bugs, so you don’t have to use pesticides, by the way. Thanks again, Dave Owens!). A few pounds of compost from Moon Valley Nurseries, in preparation of tilling my plot of land. I’ll make my own compost, in time.
Nothing but weeds has ever grown from this land. I can’t say the same about my writing—thank God. And while my newly planted lavender flowers are germinating inside, outside awaits something very special.
A baby Palo Verde, Arizona’s state tree, in a pot. My boyfriend, Oscar, gave me this tree as a gift to plant outside my first house. For those of you who don’t know, I’m Jewish—and Jewish people love trees. We love trees so much, that in Israel, you can plant an entire forest in your family’s name, for $50,000.
I kid you not.
Oscar doesn’t have that kind of money; neither do I. So instead, he began growing a Palo Verde for me, to be the first tree to plant in my backyard. This special tree recently became sick, and with Dave Owen’s infinite wisdom, I’ve slowly helped nurse this baby tree back to health.
He will become the first of many plants to dwell within my currently non-existent oasis. This blank page of dirt and dust will grow into something beautiful—and I’ll make it grow.
I’ll make it grow.