TPB INOFFICIAL BONSAI

MrHazeAmaze After she had grown a big pile of healthy roots I planted her in her final "vessel" - a golden metal pot, chained up in a skull Since that point it was created: a very special Bonsai project, which would show much more than just a plant growing

MrHazeAmaze Since that day I treated her soooo bad: just sometimes water, nearly no fertilizer, placed her inside a tent, in a glass house and sometimes even outside for days... I totally forgot when she started to bloom or how long she was even growing.

MrHazeAmaze I grew her in a skull, and I made her suffer. Left outside in heat, then cold, dragged back inside, forgotten more often than cared for. Spidermites gnawed at her leaves, yet left the flowers untouched — as if even they sensed something sacred in her final work. When she bloomed, it was not despite the struggle, but because of it. The flower is always a farewell, and every grow is only complete in death.

MrHazeAmaze I raised her in a skull, but most of her life was spent in neglect. I left her outside in burning heat, then in sudden cold, dragged her indoors, then abandoned her again. She suffered thirst, darkness, and the bite of spidermites that stripped her leaves — though strangely, they spared the flowers, as if something in her bloom commanded a grim respect. When her time came, I did not cut her. Growing is usually a preparation for harvest — you nurture only to take, always before death arrives on its own. I chose the opposite. I carried her down into the cellar for her final weeks, set her skull in the stone-lit dark, and simply let her decline. There she stood, a crown of fading flowers above hollow bone, turning slowly from bloom to ruin. I left her to wither not by accident, but as proof. To show that a grow without harvest becomes its own message: that life, denied the cut, meets death as it is, unshaped, unclaimed. And in that cellar, in her vessel of bone, she embodied what I wanted to see — beauty not ended by hand, but surrendered to shadow.