I have a photographic fascination with dead flowers. Whenever a bouquet begins to droop and wither, I have to swoop in and move it to a secure location before it gets tossed into the compost. Live flowers are cool and beautiful and I’ve certainly done studies of them as well, but I find the shapes that evolve as a flower dies and dries and shrinks and withdraws – when it retreats back into the state from which it came, dust to dust – are perhaps more beautiful. There is a delicacy and quiet that remains. Disability has drawn me into the studio (which is really nothing more than whatever spot in the house is getting good light) where I can slow down and look more closely at the architecture and shapes and shadows and stuff. There is a longer story there that which maybe I’ll get to someday.
I miss being out in the world with my camera, and I am looking forward to some coming changes that will help get me back out there. For now, I’ve got my studio and my dead flowers.