In mid-April of 2010, Isabelle Scott was told she had only a few days to live. She had leukemia and it had struck with full force.

She refused treatment and chose to stay at home. Her son, Scott Rosenberg, flew down to Washington, D.C., to care for her. The following weeks and months were filled with the joy of creativity and the tender love of a mother and son. Her doctors described her journey as “inexplicable” and “amazing.”

By early October, nearly half a year after her dire prognosis, the once inconceivable prospect of Isabelle’s seeing her seventieth birthday seemed, just possibly, within reach. So Scott made a simple request of all of his mother’s friends and family members. Knowing how important roses were to her, he wrote, “Please send a rose petal along with three words that you feel embody my mom.” He explained that, with the petals and words, he would present his mother with the constellation of her “flower of friends and family” and their extended “haiku of Isabelle Scott.”

The color compositions and accompanying narrative for the exhibition, which charts Isabelle’s extraordinary journey over her last seven months, revolved around the hundreds of birthday words and petals that were sent to her as gifts. The Birthday exhibition gave Isabelle’s dear ones—and others who may not have known her but may have been inspired by her story—the chance to celebrate the life and spirit of Isabelle Scott on the second anniversary of her miraculous seventieth birthday.

This project—or as Isabelle preferred to call it, celebration—was, in her own words, her “miracle birthday,” which came to life on October 16, 2010, and continued in the Birthday exhibition.