213. Lily and Frank – Kristen Jean Howard
Photo by Kristen Jean Howard
Plants use a variety of senses to perceive their environment and communicate with one another.
I heard somewhere that if you talk to, serenade, and encourage your houseplants, they'll thrive. Up until that point, my routine of overwatering, underexposing, and cursing at them had resulted in the demise of most of my plants. So I named the scraggly survivors and began whispering to their leaves, "Lily, you are a lovely plant. You may not believe in yourself at the moment, but I do."
I investigated further and found that plants use a variety of senses to perceive their environment and communicate with one another. Some biologists like Dr. Jack C Schultz argue that plants are like slow-moving animals, in that they act out behaviors like seeking nutrients, spreading their seed, and enacting defense mechanisms—it all just tends to happen very slowly. Plants also talk to one another, warning each other of pests or disease approaching. Many familiar plant odors like jasmine and wintergreen are actually molecules thrown into the air by plants in response to threats. Dr. Schultz says the smell of your freshly cut lawn is actually your grass crying out for help.
From this botanical curiosity, the screenplay for a short film was born. Titled Lily and Frank, it explores the relationship between the beautiful but withering Peace Lily, her constant companion Frank (a neurotic Golden Ball Cactus), and me, their semi-fictitious, mostly negligent waterer. When my character, named simply WOMAN in the script, leaves her starving plants behind to go on vacation, Lily and Frank are left pondering their existence.
Despite playing the human in this film, I'm surprised to discover how much I relate to its botanical heroine. As a cancer survivor managing a rare autoimmune disease, I feel both strong and fragile. Brimming with life and potential, yet slowly withering in place. Desperate for connection and limited by circumstance. Keenly aware that my very survival depends on my being nurtured by and connected to other complicated, lovely, and occasionally forgetful humans like me. And all I can do is turn my face toward the light and let my instincts lead.
– Kristen Jean Howard
