In October of 2020, I was contacted by my agent, Leslie Jonath, who asked if I was working on a book. My answer was “no,” though I added: “but I would like to talk with you.” She was very interested in creating a book that focused on woodlands.
A childhood memory, that popped out of nowhere 17 years ago, started my journey with woodland design. I became obsessed with this style of design, and curiosity drove me to explore it extensively — from centerpieces and bridal bouquets, to structural and sustainable designs, botanical headpieces, jewelry and other wearables. Designing woodlands gave me new eyes and I began to notice, and primarily use, so many overlooked gifts of Mother Nature: bark, logs and branches, and a plethora of mosses, lichens, seedpods, ferns and mushrooms. As much as I adore flowers, they took a backseat in design; they offer color accents and are no longer a design focus.
I am very fortunate to live in the magnificent Pacific Northwest, where all these elements are abundantly available in nearby forests in the mountains or at the coast, in our spectacular city parks — and even in our neighborhood, where a remarkable selection of old trees grow in gardens and along sidewalks.
We decided to divide the book in chapters, each one illuminating a common building block in my arrangements, and each suggesting simple projects with steps to follow, as well as many other projects that may inspire readers.
Bark, logs and branches
Observing different types of bark and how to use it was quite an eye-opener. The paper-thin bark of birch trees and paperbark maples is perfect to cover papier-mâché or recycled containers. The curly bits can be used as interesting textural accents in any design.
In our neighborhood, I discovered a eucalyptus tree that sheds long curly pieces of bark each fall. I like to use them for the base of square wreaths and as accents in many arrangements.
Depending on the size, one or several pieces of thicker bark are ideal bases for any size centerpieces or vertical arrangements. Curly bark from cherry trees or birch offers great movement when designing larger headpieces or a variety of botanical wearables, as well as decorations for mantels, archways, etc.
Driftwood found at the beach typically has eye-catching shapes; use the pieces as individual elements or combine them to design striking structures. Moss and lichen-covered logs, combined with branches — as well as hollowed out stumps, wooden discs, etc. — create interesting “containers.”
Moss
Moss reigns in the Pacific Northwest. Over 700 species grow everywhere: on trees, the forest floor, rocks, roofs, decomposing tree trunks and ruined structures. It simply is magnificent. I like to apply a sheet of moss to bark or wood as a base — using it to embrace other elements and add texture, to create a small version of the forest floor. It is part of every single woodland design.
Mushrooms
When I began my woodland journey, I started to use fresh and dehydrated mushrooms constantly. I like the element of whimsy that they add to any design, and my favorites are morels, chanterelles, shiitakes, brown beech mushrooms and turkey tails.
I typically buy them at grocery stores (except the turkey tails) — Asian grocery stores have the best selections. Serendipitously, I discovered that mushrooms dehydrate beautifully when left on a dry paper towel at room temperature. Depending on their size, they will take three to 15 days to dehydrate. After three to five months, most will disintegrate.
I became totally captivated with mushrooms after watching the documentary Fantastic Fungi five years ago. A mycologist friend has surprised me with quite the selection of mushrooms that she forages in the woods; however, I discovered that many of these varieties do not dehydrate well and exude an undesirable smell.
Shelf (also called “bracket”) mushrooms are also a favorite. They are tough and woody in appearance and are normally found growing on tree trunks. The larger ones are too heavy to glue on a container or a piece of bark or wood. I typically drill a couple of holes and zip-tie them on.
Seedpods
Seedpods have always been a favorite, but once I started to design woodlands, they often took center stage in any design — including in botanical couture. Seedpods are as different in size and shape as you can imagine and add a lot of textural interest to any design. Because I got “new eyes,” I discovered a plethora of incredible pods in the fall on the sidewalks in our neighborhood, as so many varieties of trees had been planted many decades ago. I started to collect seedpods of vines, annuals, perennials and shrubs, and supplemented my collection with finds at the flower market.
Acorns are a favorite. I never had noticed that in July, the tiniest acorns drop from oak trees; by September I can gather an abundance of the green acorns, which will mature in shades of browns. I discovered so many varieties: long skinny ones sent from the Bay Area, the huge acorns from the burr oaks in Texas, the tiniest clusters of acorns from Florida …
Lichens
Lichens are very prolific in the Pacific Northwest as they thrive in ancient forests — over 1,900 species have been discovered in Oregon. Although lichen looks plantlike, it is not a plant. Rather it is the off-shoot of a symbiotic relationship between fungi and algae. I readily find weathered lichen-covered limbs and clusters of gray or black lichens scattered on the sidewalk in the neighborhood from gusty winds. It is easy to be inspired by their large selection in the forest and I feel very fortunate to forage on the private land of a couple of friends. I like using lichens a lot as they help capture the textural quality of a forest scene.
Ferns
Ferns are a constant in my botanical arrangements. Together with moss and lichen, they reflect the soul of a healthy forest. Damp weather in the Pacific Northwest encourages an abundance of fern varieties.
At the flower market and garden centers, a plethora of local ferns are available. I always have several varieties in my studio, clipping fronds as I need them. One of my favorites is the black maidenhair fern, with its fan shape and feather-like quality. These ferns are particularly valuable when an oversize leaf needs some softening. The fern’s fine-textured foliage will add just the right contrast. Like most ferns, it dries beautifully in a flower press or in silica; once dried, it can be used in any design or still life.
I also use a variety of tropical ferns. The special texture of the bird’s nest fern, identified by its flat, wavy or crinkly fronds, makes these leaves useful in my work.
It truly takes a village to make a book and I could not have asked for a better team:
Theresa Bear, who not only took the exquisite photos but also spent endless hours finding the perfect locations and directed the photo shoots impeccably. Jen Rich and Gwen Severson, who helped brainstorm the details of every shoot and styled each one perfectly. Julie Michaels, who instinctively understood my love of nature and wrote the stories and descriptions so eloquently for each chapter. Leslie Jonath, who was so helpful and supportive throughout the project and connected all the dots. The team at Clarkson Potter Publishing, especially editor Deanne Katz, for her thoughtful guidance and stewardship, and Mia Johnson, who designed the book so exquisitely.
A Passage from the Book: How I See…MOSS
Moss knits rock to earth. If you had several decades to observe one forest patch, you might even see its tiny rhizomes turn rock into soil. The bright green abundance of moss, whether clinging to the north side of a tree or crawling along a stone wall, always delights me. Look closely and you’ll see the odd acorn or twisted leaf in a bed of moss; touch it and discover Nature’s own pillow. I use moss to re-create that sense of softness in the forest, using it to embrace other elements and add texture.