From a seed

The beauty and simplicity of these cards made me think differently about seeds. These seeds didn't just come in a packet from a store. They were on display. I came to realize that these cards not only provided a record of the year's harvest but were also a practical way to preserve seeds for a future crop. 

These seed cards always remind me of what the garden meant to my grandparents, and they have inspired me to carry on many of their traditions and practices. To this day, my efforts to grow my own food are influenced by the simple concepts they passed on of how to plant, grow, harvest, and save seeds.

Over the years, I've collected seeds I've found along my travels. Whether from a relative's garden or a memorable meal, seeds often find their way into my pockets and notebooks. 

Collecting seeds feels like I'm at once engaging with the past and the future. It makes me think of the path seeds have taken – the neighbourhood fences they were passed over or the old country they immigrated from. As my collection of tomato seeds grew, I began playing with ways of documenting and preserving them. I wanted to tell the story of the seeds, document them, and share them with others. These seeds' stories turned into an annual book that I pass on to friends and family.

Just like those cards left hanging in my Nona's basement, these books are a collection of origin stories, little canvases of nature's genius, and subtle nudges to their recipients to grow these seeds themselves.