How Artist John Pendleton Turns Grief, Florals, and Found Wood into Belonging

For artist John Pendleton, home has never had just one tempo. It can be the slow, steady tap of a foot to a rural Baptist hymn in Grove Hill, Alabama, or the sporadic, syncopated pulse of a jazz session sixteen years deep into  his life in Chicago or can look like holding grief and grace in the very same room. 

Pendleton – a woodworker, floral designer, and founder of Planks & Pistils – has spent his life turning raw materials into meaning – a practice rooted in his father's cabinet shop and his mother's garden beds long before he understood it as art. Today, his home reflects that same rootedness: an oversized floral portrait of his late sister, larger than life, exactly as she was to him; a clump of hemp rope hung on a single screw, unapologetic and unconventional; a space that asks every guest to feel, as he puts it, "like they're somebody." 

In this conversation, we chat with John as he talks about the long shadow of the Great Migration, the grief that shapes his art, and why the truest homes are the ones brave enough to break a few rules. We take you inside John’s studio for a visual journey of the space that serves as canvas for his mystical creations. 

What does the ‘Rhythm of Home’ mean to you and how does it show up in your work/personal space?
Rhythm of Home means that sometimes home is a steady rural Baptist church hymn where feet tap slowly and steadily. But sometimes it's a sporadic and syncopated lively jazz session.

Tell us about a piece of art, object, or heirloom in your home that carries a story. Why does it matter to you?
I have a floral portrait of my sister that means the world to me because it's a piece of art that I made which represents her. I arranged florals as a flat arrangement to represent her essence. We enlarged the image so the flowers are bigger than normal which mirrored how she was larger than life to me. It is comforting to have her essence (as I remember it) in my space.

How has your cultural background, community, or lived experience shaped your sense of home?
Being from a Grove Hill, Alabama, home is a place for rest and self expression. Every home feels so personal(ized). With apartment life that comes from living in Chicago, it’s taken me years to feel like an apartment can feel just as home-y as a home sitting on a big yard. But I’m realizing that the frequency of friends and neighbors in my home is what makes it a home.

When you think about the space you’re creating, what feelings or energy do you want it to hold?
Active inclusion and love for all! I want everyone to feel like they’re somebody when they’re in my home because that’s the truth.

What advice would you give to someone building a home that reflects who they are?
Ask yourself how you want to feel in your space. Ask yourself how you want people to feel in your space. Ask how you want to feel with people in your space. Aim for decisions where there is most overlap of those three questions. You have to be in the place most. But hopefully you’ll invite others to feel welcome in the place. And hopefully you’ll invite can enjoy the space with them and not simply be a busy host. But the only way to hone in on these answers is making a place that practices community and evolution. That’s what’s most important to me in a home because that’s also what’s most important in my life. So, I guess you’ve gotta get to know yourself before you have that feeling/aesthetic reflected in a space.

Is there anything else you'd like to share?
I think many, like me, want to know “best practices” and “etiquette rules” for a home or art studio and I guess those can matter to an extent. But the most memorable places are those that took chances, made unconventional choices and maybe even “broke the rules”. For example, I’ve got a clump of hemp rope hanging on a screw. That’s art. I love it.

About John

John Pendleton is a woodworker, floral designer, and visual artist born and raised in Grove Hill, Alabama, now based in Chicago. He learned beauty-making early – woodworking in his father's cabinet shop, gardening and costume design alongside his mother – and has spent the sixteen years since carrying that craft north, through art club, public installations, and his floral design business, Planks & Pistils. Shaped by personal loss and the long shadow of the Great Migration, Pendleton uses wood, florals, and found objects to explore grief, belonging, and the possibility of abundant life.