“Inspired by the jagged shape of its leaves, the weed’s common name derives from the French term dents-de-lion, meaning lion’s teeth.” — Longue Vue
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by the dandelion flower. Its delicate fragility. The way it sprinkles our world with a real-life snow globe appeal when the wind blows just right. How it gives such an ethereal and sensual aesthetic to any space — even in nature. How across many cultures she represents hope, healing, and resilience.
I love that she’s a weed, hailing from the lineage of a plant mankind deems killable, and yet she keeps living. Thriving, even if she has to do so alone. That’s when they’re my most favorite. When in the middle of nothing but dirt or greenery or concrete, she blooms tall and full. And without fail, she coaxes me every time to stop and admire her.
The days I come across a dandelion with a cluster of her bristles missing, I pause a little longer because she looks like a reflection I see from time to time in the mirror ever since I was ten — ever since experiencing my first episode of trichotillomania.
It’s actually been a while since my last episode. I had feared one would happen before my brother’s wedding and I’d have to fumble with false lashes in a hotel bathroom mirror. Gratefully, I did not, and that was perfect because I landed in Sacramento at 1:00 p.m. with only two hours to spare before family photo time, and a 117 minute commute from airport to hotel to venue. So I literally had no time for makeup. I slapped on a red lipstick, my dress, and left for the wedding (which was unbelievably beautiful and emotional — I couldn’t stop crying every time I looked at my baby brother).
I saw one today by the beach and she was perfect. Probably the most perfect, roundest, fullest dandelion I had ever seen and I buckled. I felt like it was a little nudge of hope from mother earth placed at the altar of my knees. I leaned in — as passersby stared (and their stares have increased since election night) — and photographed the majestic sign to keep blooming.
We have to keep on moving for ourselves, for our loved ones, for our communities (even the ones that don’t always have our backs) and for the freedom of all the oppressed, especially for a #FreePalestine!