The Mimosa Reminder

 [Han] Mimosa Confetti, digital art

The mimosa plant attracted my attention the early weeks of January. I noticed them more than usual on my walks. There were a couple of times I would stop, and stoop down to play with the leaves which curl up intuitively. I marveled at the tiny lilac flowers which looked like mini dandelions. When you tickle them, the soft, little petal bristles greets you back. No matter how people trample, and larger weeds threaten to overwhelm, the mimosa exist happily in little clusters, bringing much cheer. Though a weed, the mimosa is a beloved weed, with a special pet name “touch me not”.

I suppose I was feeling rather pensive about yet another new year, the plans I have made to start on new projects. I wondered if challenging myself with new things was really necessary. Contemplating these and the thought of potential obstacles made me feel rather small, vulnerable and exposed. I began to imagine myself even smaller than the mimosa. The surrounding seemed suddenly sinister and journey daunting. If I could miniaturize myself, I wonder how the world would look like. Walking in the land of giants? I decided I would make a drawing of that scene forming in my head. In imagination and art, everything is possible.

I had great fun drawing the oversized mimosas, and the tiny version of Little Blue. For those of you who may not be familiar, the little girl in blue is called “Little Blue”. She appears in most of my work as my alter-ego. She goes to places I have not and I live some of my life vicariously through her, in her shadows. It a complex relationship which I will explain in other articles. For now, suffice to say, it was a refreshing experience to see Little Blue smaller than the mimosa. I was expectant of what she would do in the scene. And she does not disappoint.

In the scene, Little Blue began to poke at the giant mimosa flowers, creating streams of petals to dislodge and spill from its side, culminating in a pink rain of confetti, drifting in the air with the wind. It’s chaotic but what a wonderful sight! I can almost hear her letting out a loud chuckle and feel the swoosh of the petals rustling by.

In Little Blue’s world, what I saw as giants, she saw as curios, things waiting to be explored and to have some fun with. A child’s perspective is much less cluttered, without “what ifs”, “maybe”, “if only” etc. What I liked was witnessing Bear turning up at the scene and looking embarrassed by what Little Blue was doing. Yet remaining near to support her. Bear often appears when Little Blue is looking for direction, exuding a reassuring presence. And together, they go on many adventures.

With my overthinking, even mimosas have become giants. The journey so tenuous. I have lost the original intent of going on uncharted paths. In anticipating eagerly the end even before I started, I became worried about failure. My plans were intended to enrich my experience, deepen the learning and gain new grounds. In any case, if I ran into trouble, there were many people willing to help, like Bear. There was plenty of time, if not this year, perhaps the next. Like the mimosa, I do think I have been built for the long run, and to weather any intruders. Deceptively humble, the mimosa is highly sensitive, closing their leaves upon touch to reduce their surface area, looking wilted to detract grazers. Knowing when to flex and when to retreat is a necessary survival skill.

Perhaps I need to change my perception from seeing my plans as a “challenge” which involves “competition, combat and proving something”. I think I am more inclined towards a “quest” which is really a “long and arduous journey to search for something”. There’s much to gain from long suffering and forbearance as most impactful and life changing work do involve being immersed and enjoying the process much like Little Blue poking the flowers, at the expense of the faint hearted Bear.  But yes, I do see myself on a quest with no definable end outcome except to continue walking on the paths that have opened up before me. I just need to keep walking, embracing.

Making art for me is like creating stories, like this scene with the mimosa, allowing the narratives and characters to emerge spontaneously. The cast are often different parts of myself battling and vying for attention. Most times, my better self informs the day and wrestles an insightful outcome. Using my senses, emotions and feelings, art making almost always throws up interesting insights from the subconscious. It’s a relief and complement to my overused and exhausted cognitive brain. Have you created a story in art recently? I wish you a novel experience and many fascinating hours.   

Han Li June