There’s something about giant agave plants, the way they take up space, equally majestic and dangerous if you get too close, the way they throw those gorgeous bloom stalks that are like trees themselves (I have a giant 16 yr old aloe in my home that used to bloom every season), the way they hold secrets of healing and sustenance. If I had to paint only one thing for the rest of time I would happily choose this floral beaut. These particular plants can be convened with as you climb up to the acropolis of Athens. The agave Americana. Americana? Yes! Though they have been naturalized in the Mediterranean they have indeed been brought there, living proof of curating lands and humans insistance to colonize the natural world. But as something becomes naturalized there is another layer of meaning: Making home in new spaces, adapting to the world that you find yourself in. Becoming one with wherever you find yourself in the world. And that transcends any initial mischief or efforts to conform or tame the unknown. They are positively stoic.
