"In 2020 I experienced a moment of persistent solitude like many others, though my experience was charmed and at the same time blanketed in grief. In town only to bury my mother, I unexpectedly spent months in this surprise quarantine sitting in a secret backyard garden near where I grew up in Nashville, Tn. New life and beauty were everywhere, and it was warm and sunny during most of the season of isolation that began two days after my mother's funeral. I was lucky to have a wonderful partner, many friends who were far away and a supportive and loving father, all also experiencing the surprising and lengthy solitude, however. The times of quiet and isolation brought forth aching empathy for those forced into extended solitude such as prisoners enduring solitary confinement, those ostracized or kept away from family or society and from would-be community in whatever way and maybe most potently for the sick.

On February 15, 2020, just after midnight, my mother Geraldine passed away in Florida. We had not been close for much of our lives. A brilliant artist and somewhat of a hermit at times, she lived very much alone in an unofficial enclosed garden for many years as she experienced visions and waking dreams and spoke truths people didn’t want to claim, but also sometimes suffered through waking nightmares. Her chosen name was Theresa. These flowers and fruits are for her and anyone else who has grieved the loss or distance from a mother, daughter, father, son, beloved, friend and neighbor." - Amy Kuttab