Cornelia Weber

How I learned to ride my bike …

Sometimes the best things in life happen unexpectedly and quite often the most memorable experiences come about out of the blue. I guess this is true when we talk about journeys – the ones that we undertake to have a break from our ordinary lives, to relax and explore, but also when we think of journeys in a wider metaphorical sense, namely our professional journeys. 

Since I have been asked to write a piece that deals with the topic ‘Journey’ for the Floralkin community, I have been thinking about my personal one a lot. And to be honest I found it tricky to step back and adopt an analytical distance from what is my very own history that unfurls anew day after day when I immerse in what has become my everyday life. It is often said journeys or traveling can trigger a change of perspective. Well, thinking about my very own professional journey and drawing conclusions that are worth to be shared does in fact call for a change of perspective as well. Hence, I try to gain a glance at the bigger picture by telling a rather inconspicuous story that repeatedly popped up when I tried to figure out what the common thread of my article could be. As it happens it is quite aptly about traveling. 

My family and I spent our holidays in Cornwall in the Southwest of England. We planned a day trip to Lanhydrock House, a National Trust property surrounded by a huge landscape park and a beautifully designed garden. It was our second trip to Lanhydrock and hence I knew what to expect. I was more than thrilled to visit the mansion again and to have a walk through the park and garden. When we arrived, we spotted a bike rental near the entrance that was already crowded and had only a few bikes left. I was amazed by the idea to explore around around in the park much more efficiently than by walking. We could be able to discover even the most remote corners of the estate. At least this was what I thought. With joyful anticipation, we hurried to get the bikes, made ourselves familiar with our newly gained equipment, and headed for the park entrance – only to realize that we were not allowed to enter the park with bikes. You can easily imagine the expression that took over my face. Puzzlement turned into something that can be aptly described as full-blown anger. We learned there were some particularly designed trails outside the park that you could choose depending on your level of fitness and your willingness to take on a sportive challenge. This was not just a change of plan. This was the opposite of the fun I had in mind when I got out of bed that morning. 

To cut a long story short, there was no reasonable way to reschedule, and I had to accommodate the fact that we would spend the day rather differently than initially planned. I don’t recall exactly what sportive level the trail had we finally chose. But I do remember that I was quite lonely in my resentment; the rest of my family coped well and started to have a lot of fun. For the first hour or so I was trapped in a stage of pervasive disappointment. I could not bring myself to enjoy the beautiful landscape we were passing through and I did not feel the fresh air that was cooling my face while I was grimly pushing the pedals. Only gradually I allowed myself to realize that I had fun too. Riding the bike slowly became in fact not the second-best but the best possible thing I could have done on that day. Looking back, it was one of those days you will keep remembering and always hold dear for the rest of your life. End of story. Pretty unspectacular, I told you! So why am I telling you this anecdote despite its palpable lack of excitement? 

I never planned or have been trained to work as a floral artist or photographer. Let me put it like this: I am now riding a bike passionately that I did not even know existed as a possible option for me. Sometimes the best things in life happen rather unexpectedly and when I think about it, I am surprised to find myself where I am today. I must confess my little story falls short as an analogy when it comes to describing my feelings towards the unexpected. For me working with flowers is and always has been far away from being second best. I love it and couldn’t be without it. I did not have to fight any sort of reluctance or disappointment. Instead, my struggling was more about allowing myself to pursue this new track my creativity has led me to.  There were times (and there still are) when I am questioning my skills or my entitlement to call myself a floral artist or photographer. 

But let me roughly sketch how it all started. After I graduated from school, I moved to Munich to study theatre sciences and journalism. At that point in my life, I had high hopes of becoming a dramaturge working for theatre companies. These hopes did not survive the hard landing in a rather bleak university life that did not require creativity but credits and certificates. I managed to get an internship at a famous theatre house but instead of having inspiring discussions on literature or stage design I had to collect weeping actresses from the canteen who refused to take part in the rehearsals because the director of the play was a tyrant. 

After 3 years I graduated successfully but my enthusiasm had dwindled completely. To get a job as a dramaturge seemed out of reach and I tried to convince myself that working in a nine-to-five job in a publishing house could be an exciting alternative. And this is what I got. My job was to edit manuscripts - some of them were a good read whereas others were painstakingly boring and arrogant. Instead of being creative myself, I was to check the use of grammar and spelling in the creative outputs of other people.  So far, so bad. 

Undisputably, our professional journeys are inextricably linked with our private existence – and vice versa. Luckily soon after I moved to Munich, I met a promising young man.  He made me laugh, he made me feel safe, and he made me feel at home and he finally let me rethink my scruples of getting married. We have two girls together and after my first maternity leave, I did not return to the job I did not want. 

Having a baby brings a lot of sleepless nights but also a lot of new faces that become friends. After four years of being a full-time mum, I felt there was space and time for me again to fill with ideas aside from family businesses. I asked a friend of mine who had two children herself and who was a professional photographer to build a free-lance two-women team. The idea was to produce stories for lifestyle magazines. We would cover photography and text; the latter would be my part. The idea worked out well and we were able to place most of our pre-produced stories. We even got commissioned by a new and exceptional successful German magazine (called LandLust), which became a role model of numerous newly founded magazines in that field trying to copy its content, circulation figures, and financial success. 

After two years, my friend moved back to her hometown, and I had to figure out how to proceed. There was no one around I could have asked to step in. I always loved taking pictures and I owned an SLR camera, but it felt presumptuous to think I could easily manage both, taking pictures while interviewing people. And indeed, it was hard to cover both aspects. For instance, I had to interview a pewterer. Usually, the artisan would demonstrate techniques while talking about family history and the manufacturing process. I would have to ask questions, make notes and concentrate on the story I have been told. Taking pictures simultaneously was not an option and taking pictures afterwards was time-consuming. Gestures easily seemed staged for the repetition did not come naturally anymore. Let me put it by referring to my bike analogy. Trying to ride two bikes simultaneously does not make sense. Hence, I decided to shift the subject of my stories. From now on I would no longer offer reports. Instead, I would concentrate on creating photo productions featuring DIY ideas, food, and floral decoration. Meanwhile, I felt much more confident in handling my camera and in editing the pictures digitally. I had turned into a visual storyteller, covering conception, styling, and photography. My favourite subject in front of my lens soon became flowers and therefore arranging and shooting floral features for magazines finally turned into my core business. I work commissioned but mainly produce floral stories for my Dutch agency which is offering my pictures internationally. 

When in 2020 Covid made the fast-spinning world almost come to a halt I found comfort in deepening my flower knowledge and floristic skills by attending the online course series ‘A year learning from nature’ created by the much-acclaimed floral artist Brigitte Girling from Moss & Stone Floral Design. I learned how to arrange flowers in an untamed and undone style by using sustainable materials and techniques. Two years ago, I started growing cut flowers in my garden and additionally since spring 2021 in a nearby leased urban gardening plot. Growing the flowers I work with, opened up a new world to me. I no longer order the flowers for an upcoming shooting from a flower shop. I grow them from seeds. This has changed not only my approach to flower design into a more natural, garden-inspired way, it also consolidated my belief and understanding that working alongside nature in the rhythm of the seasons is crucial and without alternative if we are serious about tackling the climate crisis.

Looking back, I can say my professional journey was definitely what is called a long and winding road. And I am pretty sure it will stay that way. Creatives have to deal with the insecurities their free-lance existence is presenting itself with. I had to swap my bike several times to adapt to new circumstances. But to keep pushing the pedals without knowing what the final destination might look like, means to be prepared for opportunities that would represent themselves along the way. The minute I left the stage of resentment and started looking up I noticed the beauty around me and felt the fresh air cooling my face. Being prepared and willing to change perspective is key to enjoying the chances at our fingertips and in front of our noses. 

When I got my second jab last June there was this sense of relief, and I felt the pandemic was over. But the summer swiftly turned into autumn and the surmise slowly crept in that this pandemic is still going strong. Hence pushing the pedals these days is not just a question of staying open-minded in threatening times it is for many of us foremost a question of existential menace. It is not about perspective any longer it is about the chance to take part in that ride altogether. Sometimes the best things in life happen unexpectedly and sometimes the bad things in life keep challenging us much more than we can endure. 

So, what will the future bring? I don’t know. But I can tell you what I am dreaming about. 

I learned so much in the past few years. I would love to share my knowledge by offering courses that could cover floral design and deal with the how-tos of professional still-life photography. I also would love to offer some of my pictures as fine art prints or postcards. I am currently redesigning my homepage to implement a shop. 

I am also dreaming of designing floral arrangements using my cut flowers for a small number of private homes or small venues regularly. I could provide my floral services for intimate private events such as birthdays or dinner parties. But whatever opportunity will come I really want to make sure that the creative process of designing with seasonal flowers will always be the core of my business. For me, this is what feels right, gives me joy and inner peace. 

I will try hard to keep pushing these pedals against all odds. I will mount my bike every day holding on to the belief that the next good thing is waiting around the bend, that the next good thing will finally appear out of these dark December mists.

…

Cornelia Weber is a floral artist and photographer based in Munich in the south of Germany. Her work covers the conception, styling, and photographing of floral stories for lifestyle and interior magazines. Two years ago, she started growing cut flowers in her garden and additionally, since spring 2021, in a nearby leased urban gardening plot.

Growing the flowers I work with, opened up a new world to me. I no longer order the flowers I need for an upcoming shooting from a flower shop. I grow them from seeds. This has changed not only my approach to flower design into a more natural, garden-inspired way, it also consolidated my belief and understanding that working alongside nature in the rhythm of the seasons is crucial and without alternative if we are serious about tackling the climate crisis.