Quarantine has been a mixed bouquet of emotions for everyone, myself included. For me, I’ve been frustrated and sad—and I’ve experienced gratitude, defeat, helplessness, and quickly felt like, with my lost bookings and canceled events, I lost my ability to create along with them.

By mid-March, grand designs were no longer highly sought-after, wholesalers were closed, and supply chains were broken. As a floral artist who has a deep passion for creating daily, it was impossible to do things “normally,” and even worse, I felt I couldn’t design anything worth its salt.

Before quarantine, I had created very specific rules for the way things had to be done to be proud of my own work. I often felt my floral designs had to include particular types of stems, those stems had to be placed in a specific order to achieve a precise look (almost as if I were trying to mimic other floral artists), and my arrangements had to be photographed in a photoshoot to be deemed “good enough.” A very dramatic shift in these rules made me feel like I was limited and that my work would suffer because of it.

How I Changed My Quarantine Narrative

But what if isolation and being alone could help me think differently? To see my limitations as an invitation to break the rules? To find new ways of creating with what is around me, as a way to help reveal my true aesthetic? What if it was time to look around and become inspired by my own environment and not simply what I’ve seen scrolling on my screen?

I decided I was going to create a vase arrangement entirely composed of what I had inside the four walls of my apartment, what I could forage safely from my neighborhood, and what a small investment in a few blooms from a local flower shop could get me. Most importantly, I decided I would take the time to understand my artistic decisions along the way.

Breaking My Own Creative Rules By Designing in Quarantine

I began by selecting my favorite container to design in, a vase that had been present in many other arrangements and many photos—but that was not a detail that I would allow myself to obsess over. Next, I would be selecting what goes into the container.

My rulebook told me to design off a color palette, but that was when the wholesaler was open and had a cooler with every tint of red and every tone of pink; the blooms I had were the blooms that were available. The investment was small, and I only chose three types of flowers, but I took the time to evaluate each bloom and why it was the right choice for the arrangement.

Rather than purchasing greenery, I decided to forage two base foliages for my foundation and several different and unique textures while strolling through my neighborhood. I looked for unique twigs, dried goods, interesting shapes, and various colors that I never really paid much attention to before. These foraged elements felt very special, like a moment in time that helped provide my arrangement with a more in-depth story about Mother Nature.

Last, but certainly not least, I opened my refrigerator. I grabbed all the fruit inside. I had no idea what I was going to do with it or if I would use it at all, but there was no mention of fruit in my rulebook, and that was exciting to me. With $50 of stems, some snips from neighborhood nature, and the forbidden fruit from the fridge, it was time to begin arranging.

I explored my aesthetic closer, and I got personal with my decisions. Each branch and bloom was placed intentionally because I liked the shape in that spot, or how the color presented itself in that place. The foraging bits stood out as a very emotional and personal touch because I knew where and when I had cut those pieces. The fruit (grapes and a clementine) helped me to work on a wiring technique while completing the shape and color depth of the arrangement. This new piece came together and truly felt like my art.

With the arrangement completed and sitting on a bucket in my disaster of a studio, I started rearranging my home. I was removing pictures from the wall, pushing furniture out of the way, grabbing drapes from my bedroom and crates from the hallway to rig up my own photoshoot. I played with natural lighting and different odd props from around the house to create different scenes.

Just a few weeks prior, I would have been complaining about how “my apartment is too small to take a nice photo that would look anything close to professional.” Yet, here I was, designing a set and snapping photos. It felt so good. And once I got that perfect shot, it felt even better. I was being genuinely creative for the first time, and I had broken all of my rules in just one day—an experience I am extremely grateful for.

I Invite You to Do the Same

If you’re curious to see the steps I took to create this vase arrangement, I have included a step-by-step guide with this blog. I share the tools, stems, odd items, my design principles, process, set-up, and more, along with a few alternatives in case you don’t have everything available to you.

But to be honest, I hope you don’t download and read the document. I hope you walk around your neighborhood, look in your fridge, and support your local floral shop to discover your own creativity—with just a bit of resourcefulness.

Most importantly, I hope you go and break your own rules.