preserved flowers!

second batch

It was one night in my old room, deep inside the alleyways... When I remembered, I saw a video of a girl pressing flowers inside a book to dry them out and preserve them. I looked at those flowers from Dhea that were starting to wilt at that time. She had given me a bouquet of fresh flowers—a pretty combination of pink roses, baby’s breath, and white and stripy pink chrysanthemums. I moved them to an empty glass and put it above my wardrobe.

So I went on TikTok again, searching for how to preserve them, until I stumbled upon one comment section saying that it’s not recommended to put fresh flowers inside a room, as it may summon demons—AKA mbak kun. I was in shock. Well, that thing has been sitting in my room for almost a week now, I thought. I got even more scared to keep and preserve them any longer, but I just went away with it :D

So there we were (with Salma) in that common room of our housing, compiling everything. She apparently loves to keep physical marks of memories, just like I do. So we were just gluing knickers and knackers in our “memory book,” and she also had flowers she wanted to keep.

I just took my thick printed skripsi, cut the flowers off their stems, and laid them orderly inside the pages. I had four of those printed bad boys, piled them up, and put another heavy stuff on top to completely press the flowers. I remember finally taking them out of those bad boys a month later. They were completely flat! Just like I wanted it. So I thought—well, that worked!

first batch

On my graduation day, my family got me four bouquets of fresh flowers. Before I got the chance to move them into another container, I let them sit in my room for one night. I couldn’t sleep—I was afraid mbak kun would haunt me down. But the next day, I still kept them in my room. They were heavenly beautiful.

I sorted the wilted ones and rehydrated the fresh ones with water diluted with a little sugar. I also pressed some of them earlier and didn’t put all of them on display. I let them stay in my room for about a week while I changed the water almost every day. When some of them started wilting, I took them out of the water, cut them from the stem, and put them inside the pages of my skripsi. I took lots of pictures of them—you can see some of them on my Pinterest board, Florals. 

I love seeing flowers, especially fresh ones. That’s why I love to preserve their beauty. When they dried, it was even more amusing to look at. The colors shifted into stains rather than staying vibrant. Some turned into soft gradients.

first batch

Their textures changed too—slightly papery, contrasting with the velvety touch of fresh petals. It was also fun to see how the weight shaped them after being pressed for a period of time. You could see how the petals folded, how some of them bled and created different pigmentation along the edges or the folds. The way petals and stems overlapped in an arched figure. The fibrous appearance became more visible—not only to the eye but also to the touch.

Most of them grew fragile, brittle at the slightest touch. Some didn’t look so good—the sap rotted the flowers and the pages, making them look wet, stinking, with dots of orange mold. I guess those ones refused to look aged, killed themselves, or something. Dying in their most beautiful state.

second batch

second batch

second batch

second batch

I don’t know what to do with them now... I still have the ones Dhea gave me, from four months ago. And now I’ve got an entirely new collection. I’ll figure it out.

I’m just glad mbak kun didn’t come to my room—well, at least not that I know of...