Care and hope in the Myeloma UK Garden

For today’s post we’re popping back to last year’s sunny Chelsea Flower Show and into one of the Space to Grow gardens. This one is sponsored by Myeloma UK and designed to raise awareness of the incurable form of blood cancer which is the second most common form of blood cancer.

The blue acrylic structure represents the role of the carer and is certainly one of the most eye catching elements of the garden - it was large, and hard not to notice. It weighed 7.5 tonnes, so now you see what I mean when I said large, and made of layers it was built by the same team as those of the 2012 Olympic cauldron.

The other thing that you’ll notice as you look more closely at the garden is that there’s no path, and this symbolises and mirrors the situations that many patients face. The boulders represent the cancerous cells and have a combined weight of 18 tonnes, so that’s a lot to fight against for this treatable, but not yet curable disease - the planting most definitely softens the space.

But there’s more to the garden than the landscaping, although that is a major element of the garden and which gives it its impact. The yew balls mirror the boulders, but provide a softer and more hopeful outlook, as does the delicate cow parsley. I think the background provides a different perspective of the outside world which I’m sure during many illnesses feels a different world away.

I’m a fan of these show gardens which do much to raise awareness for their charities, because like the garden raising awareness of epilepsy, through a simple flower show (although in reality Chelsea is far from simple!) I’ve learnt - and I’m sure others have too - more, as well as enjoying the space on a more superficial level, as I think you’ll agree the acrylic structure really is the head turner.

A garden robin

Another sculpture from one of the stands at this year’s Chelsea, and one that many of us could recreate for real in our own gardens, with our own friendly robin and spade. We have a couple of robins in our garden which I’m told is unusual as they’re territorial. But even so, they’re inquisitive and friendly, or just after the worms and insects where we’re working.

This sculpture is one by Rupert Till whose wire sculptures are just stunning, and something I’d be happy to incorporate into a garden. Some are quite large, on his website you’ll see a racehorse jumping a fence, which would be quite hard to accommodate in a domestic garden, but the smaller sculptures should be easier.

What do you think?

Falling more elegantly than I ever could

At Chelsea this year there were a few sculptures that caught my eye, and while I don’t think I’m in the market for something quite this size (or frankly price) this “Falling Man” by Helen Sinclair* is the style I’d go for if I were.

But as someone who has a tendency to be a bit clumsy, the idea of capturing someone falling appealed. Although I’m sure I never look anywhere near as elegant during a mishap.  That could be when my ankle decides to give way while walking, making it look like I’ve forgotten how to walk, or if I unintentionally knock something on the table and scramble to save its contents spilling everywhere, usually with mixed results!

Wouldn't it be good though if falling (as I’m resigned to the fact it happens to me) looked so classy, all of the time?

FALLING MAN BY HELEN SINCLAIR

* BTW if you’re interested: the sculpture is in bronze and is priced at £14,500.  

My clumsiness is long-standing and resulted in broken bones while growing up. There was the time that I fell down the stairs wearing my new slippers with, as it turned out slippery soles, but with a much wanted “fake-fur pom-pom” on the top (broken arm) and the one where I was skipping alone in the school playground, got tangled up in the rope and fell (broken foot).

So I feel well qualified to talk about falling, let’s hope I’m not about to surpass my earlier attempts.  

Maybe buying the sculpture would be the better option after all...