Creators

The Temporality of the Forest, with Leah Gibson

The floriculturalist and entrepreneur, who composes arrangements with ephemeral organic materials, tells us how she observes nature for inspiration.

Text -

At the other end of the line, settled in her log house in Perth, Ontario, floral designer Leah Gibson is far from the little studio apartment in Ottawa where, in 2016, she launched her business, Homebody Floral. She’s almost forgotten that place, which also served as a nursery and florist between the months of May and October.

To keep the flowers cool, she managed to rustle up an industrial refrigerator at a nearby gas station. “I could never sleep the night before a wedding because it gave off so much heat!” she remembers. The idea of having her own flower farm was germinating between sleepless nights.

On this eight-acre parcel of land, she plans to develop large gardens and grow the majority of the plants she and her partner will respectively need for their work — because, yes, he is a gardener.

Inspired by nature, Gibson has made her business the intuitive design of floral arrangements, reminiscent of wild landscapes in all their beauty, seasonality, and diversity. When she was passing through BESIDE Habitat in November, she worked her magic, showing us that summer’s not the only season worthy of being transformed into centrepieces.

Where did you grow up, and how has your relationship with nature evolved over the years?

I grew up in a small town outside of Toronto. In our small backyard or at my grandfather's cottage,  I spent most of my time outside interacting with nature: catching salamanders, picking flowers (that I probably shouldn't have), sitting in moss, swimming.  In more recent years, I’ve lived in a city but have continued this tradition of, quite honestly, getting out of it as much as I possibly could. Now, my partner and I have finally gotten ourselves a good chunk of land outside the city where we can live and grow flowers and plants and homestead to the next level.  

I finally feel like I don’t have to escape to get into nature — I can just wake up in it.

‍

What sparked your interest in floral design?

I’ve always been interested in flowers — I grew up gardening with my family and had felt drawn to working with flowers but never knew how that would embody itself in a passion/career.

Following university, I was feeling the void — a little lost and unsure where to take my next steps. I got a job serving coffee at a local flower shop and quite quickly gravitated toward the floral side of the space.  

I’ll never forget the first day I got to touch the flowers in the shop — my task was to process bunches of lavender, and I remember calling my mom on my way home from work to tell her.  

And falling asleep that night with my palms smelling of lavender. I felt immediately this is what I was meant to be doing.  


How do your studies in philosophy influence your work?

It taught me to observe every perspective. In one of my favourite courses, philosophy of aesthetics, we didn’t just study physical pieces, we studied what made them so attractive to humans and why this plays such a role in how we operate and experience society. The feelings attached to experiencing something of beauty and why this means anything at all to us.


What do you seek to capture in your work?

Ephemerality. A small snapshot of nature, in its moving and changing and breathing and fleeting ways. I want my designs to feel easy, calming, and nostalgic, not stagnant and forced. I aim to mirror woods, meadows, and gardens — and not have anything feel too tight or inorganic.  

‍

‍

What lessons have you learned from nature?

Everything is seasonal. Nature has taught me that I can’t control everything, that it can’t all be tidy and neat and fit into boxes. To slow down, to quiet down, to pay attention. To embrace all seasons of everything — not to just enjoy a flower as it’s in full bloom but before it opens, as it ages and turns to seed. That it’s all beautiful all the time and not just when it’s putting on a show.  

‍

When did you start foraging mushrooms, and how have you integrated that into your work?

Foraging mushrooms is a relatively new interest of mine! Flowers come naturally to me — they just make sense — but mushrooms feel like this otherworldly being that I still have so much to learn about (and we as humans do, too). You could say my household growing up was a bit mycophobic; I was never encouraged to explore fungi, and my parents were always perplexed by my mushroom-inspired decor choices.  

Nevertheless, the combination of flowers and mushrooms just feels natural. I’m inspired when I go foraging by colours, dried seed pods, and plants throughout each of their life stages. I’m also inspired by seeing what plants and fungi have symbiotic relationships and like to consider this when designing.  


What do you love most about landscapes?

Their movement. The idea of landscapes is interesting, because this can mean wild/natural landscapes that we participate in or appreciate from afar, but it also means gardens that we’ve tailored and controlled. Even the most well-planned garden can only be controlled to a certain extent and becomes part of the natural ecosystem nonetheless. I’m inspired by how things grow in clusters, at different heights, how each plant can simultaneously display buds, blooms, and seeds. I love the variation and the asymmetry.    

I’m curious about your thoughts on the relationship between nature and design. How do they interact?

For me, it wasn’t until I really delved into the growing side of things that I understood my craft better, and this influenced the way I design. Harvesting and using them in ways that they’d appear in the field or garden made it come together more naturally, as I felt that I just knew the flower itself better and respected it in a new way, seeing from seed to planting to bloom to compost.  

I want to talk about the beauty we seek in nature, as you’ve obviously mastered the art of noticing and combining colours and natural textures. In your eyes, where does beauty lie?

Fall is the most exciting palette for me! The combination of the subdued “death” (to put it bluntly) and the pops of saturated colour from the foliage turning — to the slow creep of emptiness as fields get plowed, gardens start to get pulled, and leaves start to drop. The newly muted hues and the addition of negative space excites me so much. It’s a season that just hits different, you know?  

I’ve never been a fan of winter (working on it) — but I’m learning to appreciate it for its blank canvas and to seek beauty in the bones of nature — the textures of bark, frozen fungi, shapes in the snow … everything stands out a little more on a white background, you just have to look for it.  

‍

‍

Experience the colors up close
Come immerse yourself in the colors and enjoy autumn as it should be, at the best place possible.
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Creators

The Temporality of the Forest, with Leah Gibson

The floriculturalist and entrepreneur, who composes arrangements with ephemeral organic materials, tells us how she observes nature for inspiration.

Text -

At the other end of the line, settled in her log house in Perth, Ontario, floral designer Leah Gibson is far from the little studio apartment in Ottawa where, in 2016, she launched her business, Homebody Floral. She’s almost forgotten that place, which also served as a nursery and florist between the months of May and October.

To keep the flowers cool, she managed to rustle up an industrial refrigerator at a nearby gas station. “I could never sleep the night before a wedding because it gave off so much heat!” she remembers. The idea of having her own flower farm was germinating between sleepless nights.

On this eight-acre parcel of land, she plans to develop large gardens and grow the majority of the plants she and her partner will respectively need for their work — because, yes, he is a gardener.

Inspired by nature, Gibson has made her business the intuitive design of floral arrangements, reminiscent of wild landscapes in all their beauty, seasonality, and diversity. When she was passing through BESIDE Habitat in November, she worked her magic, showing us that summer’s not the only season worthy of being transformed into centrepieces.

Where did you grow up, and how has your relationship with nature evolved over the years?

I grew up in a small town outside of Toronto. In our small backyard or at my grandfather's cottage,  I spent most of my time outside interacting with nature: catching salamanders, picking flowers (that I probably shouldn't have), sitting in moss, swimming.  In more recent years, I’ve lived in a city but have continued this tradition of, quite honestly, getting out of it as much as I possibly could. Now, my partner and I have finally gotten ourselves a good chunk of land outside the city where we can live and grow flowers and plants and homestead to the next level.  

I finally feel like I don’t have to escape to get into nature — I can just wake up in it.

‍

What sparked your interest in floral design?

I’ve always been interested in flowers — I grew up gardening with my family and had felt drawn to working with flowers but never knew how that would embody itself in a passion/career.

Following university, I was feeling the void — a little lost and unsure where to take my next steps. I got a job serving coffee at a local flower shop and quite quickly gravitated toward the floral side of the space.  

I’ll never forget the first day I got to touch the flowers in the shop — my task was to process bunches of lavender, and I remember calling my mom on my way home from work to tell her.  

And falling asleep that night with my palms smelling of lavender. I felt immediately this is what I was meant to be doing.  


How do your studies in philosophy influence your work?

It taught me to observe every perspective. In one of my favourite courses, philosophy of aesthetics, we didn’t just study physical pieces, we studied what made them so attractive to humans and why this plays such a role in how we operate and experience society. The feelings attached to experiencing something of beauty and why this means anything at all to us.


What do you seek to capture in your work?

Ephemerality. A small snapshot of nature, in its moving and changing and breathing and fleeting ways. I want my designs to feel easy, calming, and nostalgic, not stagnant and forced. I aim to mirror woods, meadows, and gardens — and not have anything feel too tight or inorganic.  

‍

‍

I’m curious about your thoughts on the relationship between nature and design. How do they interact?

For me, it wasn’t until I really delved into the growing side of things that I understood my craft better, and this influenced the way I design. Harvesting and using them in ways that they’d appear in the field or garden made it come together more naturally, as I felt that I just knew the flower itself better and respected it in a new way, seeing from seed to planting to bloom to compost.  

I want to talk about the beauty we seek in nature, as you’ve obviously mastered the art of noticing and combining colours and natural textures. In your eyes, where does beauty lie?

Fall is the most exciting palette for me! The combination of the subdued “death” (to put it bluntly) and the pops of saturated colour from the foliage turning — to the slow creep of emptiness as fields get plowed, gardens start to get pulled, and leaves start to drop. The newly muted hues and the addition of negative space excites me so much. It’s a season that just hits different, you know?  

I’ve never been a fan of winter (working on it) — but I’m learning to appreciate it for its blank canvas and to seek beauty in the bones of nature — the textures of bark, frozen fungi, shapes in the snow … everything stands out a little more on a white background, you just have to look for it.  

‍

‍

Experience the colors up close
Come immerse yourself in the colors and enjoy autumn as it should be, at the best place possible.
BOOK NOW
Creators

The Temporality of the Forest, with Leah Gibson

The floriculturalist and entrepreneur, who composes arrangements with ephemeral organic materials, tells us how she observes nature for inspiration.

Text -

At the other end of the line, settled in her log house in Perth, Ontario, floral designer Leah Gibson is far from the little studio apartment in Ottawa where, in 2016, she launched her business, Homebody Floral. She’s almost forgotten that place, which also served as a nursery and florist between the months of May and October.

To keep the flowers cool, she managed to rustle up an industrial refrigerator at a nearby gas station. “I could never sleep the night before a wedding because it gave off so much heat!” she remembers. The idea of having her own flower farm was germinating between sleepless nights.

On this eight-acre parcel of land, she plans to develop large gardens and grow the majority of the plants she and her partner will respectively need for their work — because, yes, he is a gardener.

Inspired by nature, Gibson has made her business the intuitive design of floral arrangements, reminiscent of wild landscapes in all their beauty, seasonality, and diversity. When she was passing through BESIDE Habitat in November, she worked her magic, showing us that summer’s not the only season worthy of being transformed into centrepieces.

Where did you grow up, and how has your relationship with nature evolved over the years?

I grew up in a small town outside of Toronto. In our small backyard or at my grandfather's cottage,  I spent most of my time outside interacting with nature: catching salamanders, picking flowers (that I probably shouldn't have), sitting in moss, swimming.  In more recent years, I’ve lived in a city but have continued this tradition of, quite honestly, getting out of it as much as I possibly could. Now, my partner and I have finally gotten ourselves a good chunk of land outside the city where we can live and grow flowers and plants and homestead to the next level.  

I finally feel like I don’t have to escape to get into nature — I can just wake up in it.

‍

What sparked your interest in floral design?

I’ve always been interested in flowers — I grew up gardening with my family and had felt drawn to working with flowers but never knew how that would embody itself in a passion/career.

Following university, I was feeling the void — a little lost and unsure where to take my next steps. I got a job serving coffee at a local flower shop and quite quickly gravitated toward the floral side of the space.  

I’ll never forget the first day I got to touch the flowers in the shop — my task was to process bunches of lavender, and I remember calling my mom on my way home from work to tell her.  

And falling asleep that night with my palms smelling of lavender. I felt immediately this is what I was meant to be doing.  


How do your studies in philosophy influence your work?

It taught me to observe every perspective. In one of my favourite courses, philosophy of aesthetics, we didn’t just study physical pieces, we studied what made them so attractive to humans and why this plays such a role in how we operate and experience society. The feelings attached to experiencing something of beauty and why this means anything at all to us.


What do you seek to capture in your work?

Ephemerality. A small snapshot of nature, in its moving and changing and breathing and fleeting ways. I want my designs to feel easy, calming, and nostalgic, not stagnant and forced. I aim to mirror woods, meadows, and gardens — and not have anything feel too tight or inorganic.  

‍

‍

What lessons have you learned from nature?

Everything is seasonal. Nature has taught me that I can’t control everything, that it can’t all be tidy and neat and fit into boxes. To slow down, to quiet down, to pay attention. To embrace all seasons of everything — not to just enjoy a flower as it’s in full bloom but before it opens, as it ages and turns to seed. That it’s all beautiful all the time and not just when it’s putting on a show.  

‍

When did you start foraging mushrooms, and how have you integrated that into your work?

Foraging mushrooms is a relatively new interest of mine! Flowers come naturally to me — they just make sense — but mushrooms feel like this otherworldly being that I still have so much to learn about (and we as humans do, too). You could say my household growing up was a bit mycophobic; I was never encouraged to explore fungi, and my parents were always perplexed by my mushroom-inspired decor choices.  

Nevertheless, the combination of flowers and mushrooms just feels natural. I’m inspired when I go foraging by colours, dried seed pods, and plants throughout each of their life stages. I’m also inspired by seeing what plants and fungi have symbiotic relationships and like to consider this when designing.  


What do you love most about landscapes?

Their movement. The idea of landscapes is interesting, because this can mean wild/natural landscapes that we participate in or appreciate from afar, but it also means gardens that we’ve tailored and controlled. Even the most well-planned garden can only be controlled to a certain extent and becomes part of the natural ecosystem nonetheless. I’m inspired by how things grow in clusters, at different heights, how each plant can simultaneously display buds, blooms, and seeds. I love the variation and the asymmetry.    

I’m curious about your thoughts on the relationship between nature and design. How do they interact?

For me, it wasn’t until I really delved into the growing side of things that I understood my craft better, and this influenced the way I design. Harvesting and using them in ways that they’d appear in the field or garden made it come together more naturally, as I felt that I just knew the flower itself better and respected it in a new way, seeing from seed to planting to bloom to compost.  

I want to talk about the beauty we seek in nature, as you’ve obviously mastered the art of noticing and combining colours and natural textures. In your eyes, where does beauty lie?

Fall is the most exciting palette for me! The combination of the subdued “death” (to put it bluntly) and the pops of saturated colour from the foliage turning — to the slow creep of emptiness as fields get plowed, gardens start to get pulled, and leaves start to drop. The newly muted hues and the addition of negative space excites me so much. It’s a season that just hits different, you know?  

I’ve never been a fan of winter (working on it) — but I’m learning to appreciate it for its blank canvas and to seek beauty in the bones of nature — the textures of bark, frozen fungi, shapes in the snow … everything stands out a little more on a white background, you just have to look for it.  

‍

‍

Experience the colors up close
Come immerse yourself in the colors and enjoy autumn as it should be, at the best place possible.
BOOK NOW

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