Friday, 11 April 2014


The punk gardener respects no rules of gardening. There are no right or wrong combinations, planting schemes, soils, aspects. Each garden is unique and therefore previous knowledge is of no use. You must start again, anew, alone.

The punk gardener is in love with rot, filth, dirt, slime and soil. Their hands are always dirty, their knees crusted with muck, twigs in their hair and grass stains on their clothes. Gardening is not nice, elegant, tidy. It is a dirty business and making dirt is the first and most important step. 

The punk gardener understands that their garden exists in a state of permanent war, in which they are the greatest traitor. Bugs fight against plants, weather fights against plants, and above all plants fight, fight, fight against against plants. By turns betrayer, turncoat, fair weather friend, terrorist, brute and beast, the gardener is never on any side, nor following any rules of engagement. They follow their inner directives, and their faith cannot be relied on.

The punk gardener understands that their garden is food for everything and that everything is food for their garden.

The punk gardener is not making a statement. They are growing plants.  

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