Hothouse Flowers

I watched an excellent program on TV about the Hothouse Flowers the other night. I saw a bunch of wide-eyed believers who knew what they wanted to do and had to do, right from the very start. Young men on a mission. And once they had set sail there would and would be no going back. I love listening to artists, musicians, and writers speak about their work, their process, and their reason for being. Lifelong gypsies gifted with the courage to step outside restrictive societal boundaries into possibility. Risk-taking is their prerogative. Perhaps it is their greatest demon. They cannot ignore the call to arms. Into the rich light of understanding, and expression they go, unwilling to surrender despite the trouble it often brings. And so they begin the brave struggle of going to their deepest parts to understand themselves through their art.

They speak a different language built on hope and possibility and by their own admittance, misery too. All three are a rich mine of inspiration to anyone strong enough to go there. Sometimes it can break them, so they need to learn how to go there and come back safely. I see it in my son Samuel, the curiosity to dig beneath the surface and write, act, dance, and sing. To respect whatever comes out. To trust the journey. To run with. I know that feeling but too often I’ve turned away to safety. Having to live and survive can do that. You have to be big to resist otherwise the fear takes hold. Liam Ó Maonlaí and Fiachna Ó Braonáin held that resistance to conformity from an early age. They knew what it was to be different and rather than run from the magic, they embraced it and wrapped themselves up in its loving arms.

There was a restlessness about them then that is still there. They continue to push themselves into newfound places, no concert is the same as the one that went before. Their comfort zone exists outside of their comfort zone. They make up songs about the city they are playing in onstage. They live for the moment. They are comfortable with each other’s unpredictability, ready to be the anchor to the others in the band when needed. Anything and everything is possible. I laughed when Liam said recently on Tradfest when they were speaking about musicians having ADHD that he thought that the kids who enjoyed school were the ones that he is worried about and that they are the ones who need medicating. This is a nod to the element of containment that exists within our school system for those who don’t fit in, who don’t excel or feel comfortable in the classroom. The ones who need to be put in touch with their creative selves. From my experience, these are often the kids that need to be doing, rather than thinking, because they are doing their best thinking when they are doing. They are at their best in construction studies, music, home economics, art, or looking out the window in English as they build an essay in their mind. This is when they flow and let go of what’s holding them back. The rhythm within finally matches the rhythm without. The soul and spirit are in balance with what they are doing, not thinking, doing. They are finally present in the real sense, and its important to acknowledge the role the music department in the school they attended played in encouraging and developing Liam and Fiachna’s passion.

When I’m in town or a pub I look out for the bohemians, fellow travellers with a hint of devilment in their eyes, waiting for a conversation as if it were a bus that will take them to somewhere special, captured in the easy words that go much further than the everyday. There are rich seams to be mined when we dig beneath the surface. People like the Flowers are evidence of this. Such conversations are restless, winding, unapologetic, and laced with the mystery that alcohol often brings to the night. It helps us to enter another realm. Life and death, nothing is off the table. Spending times with like minded people always send me home with an appreciative spring in my step. I am recharged enough to be able to put up with the ordinariness that exists until I get to go back there again. Creativity saved the Flowers, it can save us too.

I look out for them in train stations. I looked out for them in school. These inhabitants of the in-between. The ones who walk differently. The ones who talk a different language. The ones who dress like they mean it. These hothouse flowers, whose job it is to carry a lot of what we’ve forgotten. They’re north, south, east, and west. They’re Dublin, Belfast, Cork, and Donegal, and all the roads in between. They challenge us by being different and irreverent, by making us consider what we’re doing with our lives and our funny little ways. They go by different names. Hothouse Flower. Waterboy. Virgin Prune. Undertone. Boomtown Rat. Lypton Village. They are what Tom Waits once described the Pogues as, ‘sailors on shore leave’.

I’ve been aware of the hothouse flower inside since college. School never allowed that space. But still, I myself must also take the blame for denying it again and again. But it keeps coming back, knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door. A voice that told me special things and now it’s finally time to give it wings. I can feel the rhythm of the tempo building in my brain. Tap, tap, tap, the words bouncing off the keyboard onto the page to tell a story everyone can understand. Street Shakespeare let loose on the unsuspecting fools who never break the rules. John Cooper Collins and his chosen path. Words like Jack Shit and the Zeroes made me laugh. A lot. There’s been times when I’ve wanted to give up, but now I feel as close as I’ve ever been to the kind of life I want to live. All I need is a pen and a piece of paper to be free, and a job that links to that, like psychotherapy.

I strongly believe there’s a bit of Hothouse Flower in us all. Something intangible in need of expression. If it gets suppressed, ignored, forgotten, or trapped it can cause confusion, illness, muddled thinking, and an overall sense of dis-ease. It is so important that we do what we were born to do. It doesn’t necessarily have to be in terms of our job. Unfortunately, we have to be aware of our financial needs, so it might be making time for such a passion outside of work. Often when I work with people in therapy or young people in school, it’s getting them to access that part of themselves that connects to the joy within that helps. It helps them to see what’s good in life. It can be the spark that reignites spirit and destiny.

So ask yourself if you feel so inclined, where is the a Hothouse Flower in you? It’s in there somewhere, of that there is no doubt. But if you go there, remember, there’s no going back. Once you unlock the magic, it’ll be there forever, nagging you, poking you, until you let it out. It doesn’t matter how old you are you can still be a punk, a mod, a rocker, or whoever you want to be. The world is a blank canvas. You can push the boundaries, rage against the machine, love as you’ve never loved before, push back, push forwards, push sideways, right to left, left to right, it doesn’t matter. Use your wisdom. Eat love. Dress like you want. Dress up, down, and around. Dress cool. Walk tall. Forget what you were taught in school that made you feel like a fool and hold onto what made you feel good. Be young again. In spirit, desire, and belief. Be confident. Be electric. Be fearless. Be free. Take risks. Don’t wait. Permission is your own. Don’t be afraid. Follow your heart. Live outside the lines. We are born to live until we die. There is no other way.