Chicago Garden, The Back Story

                     Ligularia in bloom, growing by the pond in my Chicago garden.

Photo Copyright Alice Joyce

The back story: I grew up in Chicago surrounded by asphalt and concrete. Gardening entered my life only after moving to Newport street. Sean may remember opening the back door on frigid mornings so our well-trained puppy could make his way to a designated spot alongside the garage.

Newport was my home on and off while doing graduate work in sculpture in California, and then an M.F.A. in New York. The brick garage, its ancient wooden barn doors piled high with snow and ice in winter when the alley was plowed, functioned as a welding studio, and a sequestered place to work with resins.

The garden only began to take precedence when I suffered burn-out with the art world. One show a year; the constant hustle of part-time teaching positions; grant writing; securing gallery representation. 

After years of yearning to dig in the soil, or add structure to the space, each time I walked the 25 feet from the back door to the studio... Let's say I finally gave in to the impulse. A turning point that had this zealous Type A enthralled in garden work from the first sign of spring, through the mild days of fall. In fact, in mid-winter, too, if I found something to prune.

By 1998, when I moved to the Bay Area, the Chicago garden was awarded a First Place in Mayor Daley's Landscape Awards Program. 

And I had signed my first book contract for West Coast Gardenwalks.