I drew a big flower in my journal. half the petals were attached and half had been pulled off. It seems to me that the "he loves me. he loves me not. he loves me. he loves me not." petal-plucking game that girls play should be a thoughtful dream stage not a semi-annual reality sequence. I would rather heave one giant devoted breath at a dandelion to watch the one and only, first and last explosion of irreversible certainty than play a perpetual, callus-building, real-life, painful petal-plucking game.

Disney princesses: In the Little Mermaid, Ariel plays it before the Under the Sea song scene. In Beauty and the Beast, Belle sings, "I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell..." as she sends a whole patchworth of dandelion seeds flying then twirls around encompassed by them and the wind in the pink twilight. I think it is a pretty scene. I watched it today.



Last summer, I sketched a bulbous dandelion head into one of my england journals. I had been reading poetry about the Lady of Ascolot (aurthurian legend character) who was compared to a "wild rose and meadow flower." I thought, "well, that is lovely and sounds awfully romantic, but i'm not that. I am more like a dandy lion, free spirited, adventurous, and soaring." I feel connected to those.

hey did you know that the word dandelion is actually from old french, Den de lion meaning "teeth of the lion" teeth= den as in dental.