Mia Rosa

Growing up, I did not particularly like having the name Mia Rosa, which translates to "my rose" in Spanish. My three siblings didn't have meanings attached to their monikers like mine. My older sister would use it to mock me, jabbing me the way only an older sibling can. Then, when I went to school, I realized I didn't particularly appreciate my peers calling me a possession either. The year the musical "Mamma Mia" was popularized was particularly eye-rolling. I even had a toxic boyfriend who said my name in a way that turned me off to jealous guys for life. As I got older and embraced my Mexican and Spanish ethnicities more, the title began to feel like a badge of honor, and I was grateful to my parents for giving me a lasting reminder of the Hispanic parts of my mixed heritage.

Then 2020 came, and though it's redundant to say that at this point, it was a particularly challenging time. We all found ways to occupy our time at home. When Mother's Day approached, I started thinking about what gifts I could give the mothers in my life that took a little more effort than my annual online purchases.

Flowers were an obvious choice, but their fleeting nature made it evident that I needed more. A few years ago, when we moved into our house, I bought a book on making my own wreaths for holidays, and there was a chapter on preserving flowers. I picked it up one April afternoon, and the following day, I bought four more on the subject.

I started hang drying, sand drying, silica drying, and even freeze-drying my buds. I made several wreaths then moved on to shadow boxes. Eventually, I found large and small cloches to be the perfect floral arrangement container for me.

That spring and into summer, I spent all my time outside of work and family hours sitting surrounded by flowers. I picked, cut, stuck, glued, and sprayed floral preserve nearly every night. When Mother's Day and all my family's June birthdays meant I ran out of reasons to make gifts, I kept going and soon my summer decor theme went from "by the beach" to "floral haven."

I had found my passion within my namesake. My "rosas" were my creations: little babies I made with my hands. I haven't stopped since. My friends and family have come to expect Mia's florals to be their centerpieces, birthday gifts, and part of their bookcase decor.

There are many reasons I love the dry floral arrangement process.

It might be the research. I continued to buy books on floral arrangements and the meaning of flowers across many cultures and centuries. I learn more with each bouquet. For example, the Incas worshipped sunflowers due to their resemblance to the life-giving sun. Four roses mean three roses means "I love you," while gifting eight roses says you're "grateful for your caring and support." There is still more to discover.

It may be the hunt. I ordered what I could online from flowerl farms all over the country. On weekends, we visited farmers' markets, searching for the best blooms. When that wasn't enough, we ventured out to the floral heaven known as the Los Angeles Flower Market.

It might be the quality time. It's something I can do with my husband, who likes driving to the flower market with me before everyone else arrives so we can get breakfast together after. It's something my daughter has learned to appreciate because now we have flowers all over our home, and she enjoys helping me remove buds from their drying to

My husband has suggested I start selling my creations, but I'm not in that headspace now, and I don't know if I ever will be. I create these nature scenes to give them to others. There is no schedule or deadline; I can cut, arrange, and even rearrange with no outside interference.

I've read that a true passion is something you can't easily define, so maybe that's why I can't say why I love creating floral arrangements so much, but I know it's all me. It's mine.