Poppies are fleeting in real life — here one day, gone the next. That’s part of why I love sculpting them in stainless steel: I get to freeze that moment of full bloom. This poppy opens wide, its center burning with deep blue that fades into purple, then finally glowing gold along the edges. It’s a color gradient only fire can make, coaxed carefully with a torch until the steel agreed to bloom.

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The center was its own project. I welded and shaped a seed pod, then surrounded it with tiny hand-bent stamens — each one ground and placed to echo the delicate little arms surrounding the center pod. t’s the kind of detail that only shows up when you lean close, but it makes the flower feel alive.

The stem branches into two: one reaching up to hold the open flower, the other cradling a small bud, a quiet nod to what’s still coming. Below, a full root system anchors the piece, giving it weight and grounding the bloom in a way that feels almost like you just pulled it from the earth. The leaves, bead-rolled with veining and touched with torch color, give the whole sculpture movement and balance.

For me, this poppy was about capturing the full story of the plant — root to bud to bloom — and doing it all in steel. It’s a flower that won’t fade, a permanent snapshot of something that usually only lasts a day.

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This sculpture is safe to be kept outside.