Meet the Favicon
Look up. No, higher. Now, over to the left. A bit farther. Yeah, there it is.
See the address of this page up there in your browser? See that colorful little square sitting there just before the letters, ‘http’ in the address? Yep, that little square. The one with the red in it.
Wanna know what it is?
Wanna know why we put it up there?
Well it is a sort of website, web-address avatar, but it is called a favicon.
Having a favicon for this site was Mike’s idea. The very same Mike who has been helping us build this website into a beautiful, eye-pleasing place that will help us share our stories with you more clearly. He is responsible for much of the visual and structural elegance you see so far. (We’ve still got a ways to go.) He is a generous teacher and tireless friend whose children I adore and play ‘uncle’ to, and whose garden I wander, weekly.
The red in that little avatar image up there is made up of roses. Organic roses, mind you. Roses cut in Mike’s beautiful garden. Roses brought into my home during a weeklong trip that took him and his family far away from their home at the peak of the garden’s bloom. He encouraged me to cut all the roses I wanted while they were away. I took him at his word. It felt delicious . . . and decadent.
I blogged about that back in June, 2009, on my personal blog, ‘A Photographer’s Garden Blog‘.
Here’s the link to that particular post: Fun With Other People’s Roses
Here’s the picture of those roses, shown large:
And here’s what that same picture looks like cropped and then reduced down to 64 pixels square (I needed to find an image that would reduce down and still hint effectively at the subject of this website/blog. Of the dozen or so images I reduced to this size to help me with previsualization, this one easily worked the best, and as a bonus, it also offered the most complete subtextual meaning.):
Roses from Mike’s garden (Rosa ‘Europeana’), several clusters of them arranged in a pottery pitcher nested in a large, shallow bowl, sitting regally at the visual center of a very old, blue-mohair-covered chair that belonged to my dear grandparents before I was even born. I grew up with that chair. My grandfather napped in that chair each day after his lunch and it has lived with me since his passing. So, perhaps you can understand that there are a lot of wonderful memories and connections, all tied neatly and symbolically together in this one, red, white and blue photograph. A photograph that also, just happens to hold together when compressed down, down, down from its larger, meaning-layered complexity into a tiny 16 pixel by 16 pixel icon.
We may not live in a perfect world, but we can certainly shape it and decorate our place in it. We can choose what things we will shine a light on, and what we will downplay. We can call upon our best, and drizzle that richly into our everyday circumstances.
Sure, it’s just a wee icon, not unlike a tiny flower on a desert plant, almost too small to even notice. So why bother? Maybe you could ask that desert plant or the insect that will happily pollinate it. Or, perhaps, this contorted filbert: Or ask your own inner child. I bet he/she will know the answer.
You will discover over time here that one of our many goals for A Fresh Bouquet is play and permission to play. We know we can’t expect to have much impact on that sort of permission in anyone else’s world without granting it generously in our own, without paying attention to all those small, delicious details. This is to become a book about flowers and the people who love them, after all. Details are a very big deal.
Keep an eye out, then. You’ll find us embedding all sorts of little visual treats here, just for you,
. . . just for your playful, hungry eyes.