Arranging flowers helps lives blossom

0 Comments | Deseret News (Salt Lake City), May 13, 2003 | by Amy Joi BrysonDeseret News staff writer

They are learning how to pose pixie carnations next to burgundy orchids, arrange peach Gerber daisies next to glistening red tulips.

As they pluck and mix and match among the sweet smelling flowers piled in a Murray garage, they are learning about life.

"I've been a housewife for 27 years, raising kids, and now they are married and gone," says Taylorsville resident Tiniece Gonsalves. "Now, I'm trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Most people do that out of high school or college. I am in my 40s trying to figure it out. "

She's figured out Greg Griffiths' flower-arranging class is harder than she thought it would be.

"People who complain about how much their flowers cost at a wedding need to take this class. It is not just throwing a bunch of flowers together. There is a lot that is hidden so you don't see the mechanics."

Griffiths' students, over time, also learn that building flower arrangements is much like building life -- it's easy to get stuck in safe corners, to shy away from something risky.

"My specialty is the dramatic," Griffiths said. "People get tired of seeing mundane things."

So, as his students sit at the table in the garage of his home, he pushes them into thinking creatively, into letting go -- especially when instruction tends to get too serious.

Griffiths calls it re-introducing the "Peter Pan" element to adults.

"Arranging is just like life: We go through and we are in quiet desperation. People want to scream out and do something different. This gives them permission to strike out and chance it."

At one point, he told his students to step out into the driveway and join hands.

No one knew the point, but Gonsalves said, "before we realized what we were doing, he had us dancing around a pot of roses. It's just too much fun."

Griffiths' students meet for six weeks, a demand that Pauli Marr didn't think she could fit into her already busy schedule.

As chief nursing officer at St. Mark's Hospital, Marr was prodded into taking the class by her friend, Judy Kiernan, a nursing professor.

She's not regretted the decision.

"It's very relaxing, a great stress reliever."

The students who take the classes are as varied as the flowers they arrange -- from people who have been laid off and are seeking a new skill to already entrenched professionals like Marr who yearn for a creative break.

Some students, after just a few classes, demonstrate a natural ability, Griffiths says. Others continue to feel like they are all thumbs and get frustrated.

"But everyone loves flowers -- they're peaceful, they're relaxing and they put you in touch with nature," he says.

Griffiths teaches them the theory of building arrangements but stresses that, ultimately, the skill lies in the heart of the arranger, if students dare let go.

"They need to achieve full expression. They need to get beyond that thing of saying, 'I hope I don't foul up.' "

Griffiths himself stumbled into the bright world of the flower business by accident, propelled by a desperate need to raise some quick cash.

At 24, he took an admiration for things beautiful, whipped up some arrangements and went soliciting his friends for purchases. When he walked away with a profit, he vowed not to walk away from the vocation.

Now, 28 years later, he shops for silk flowers at markets in Dallas, builds expensive silk arrangements for decorators and furniture stores and has a steady business of local clientele for weddings and other occasions.

His best pick for his business, however, is the teaching.

"This is not a how-to class as much as it is teaching people to come to life. That's my satisfaction. I guess you could say I am in the people business doing flowers."

E-MAIL: amyjoi@desnews.com