Spain

A gaze, a face emboldened by secrets and status—not unscathed, but above ground producing fruit among the people. I see my grandmother at the head of this table; the woman she might have been—full of tapestry and time, a centerpiece seemingly, suspiciously, by her side. Extending an offering, a sweet toast to her viewer alone—a message in a bottle for a granddaughter one day. A wish to be seen well and good—to be something to write home about, to bind amid beautiful things.

How many gardens have you visited, how many seeds can a woman truly sow?

—johnette marie, Artist and Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum Neighborhood Salon Luminary

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