6. #Dirt

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My ancestors’ rice field at sunset. Photo © Zarina Holmes

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I got into gardening more and more lately. I find it not dissimilar from taking photos, because you have to observe your subjects all the time.

The dirt has a healing effect when I hold it in my hands. It makes me feel connected to the earth literally.

I’m not a great gardener though. Half my life I grew up in a hot tropical country with only one climate. Then I spent the other half in the UK, learning a different weather system and different seasons. I only got around to recognise a few seasonal plants since a few years ago.

I got into gardening more and more lately. I find it not dissimilar from taking photos, because you have to observe your subjects all the time.

Fortunately London is full of parks, so I could walk around and teach myself about different plants. However eventually I started to feel that I need to spend my time around more earthy ground than tarmacs and granite to feel inspired artistically. This is how I’m built I guess.

You have a cool pair of hands, my mother used to say to me. Which means that I have talent for gardening. I was six years old and successfully grew my own watermelon from scratch. I haven’t told my mother I’ve killed quite a few ivy plants in London. They do so well untended in the open, but failed miserably in my tidy pots. At least I’m pretty okay with roses and sweet kate.

There are a few pots of dirt and compost lying around in the balcony. I’m constantly thinking what to grow in them.

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