Often I indulge myself as a photographer. I’ve not earned the right to be like this. Yet I must confess, I have a weakness for pretty flowers. There is something about the way they are, so perfect for just a brief moment, before fading into the Air & Earth.
Flowers are the opposite of stardust. The antithesis of progress. Even as we seek to evolve them, make them hybrid, turn them into strains, modify their lineage, they insist on being themselves despite our commands.
Each flower is unique if I may be excused for writing in cliches. It’s only when you stand among flowers that you can truly understand what this means. Only when you can capture their beauty, as it is, and no other way.
There is something about a flower, but even more so, a photograph of a flower. It strikes a chord in me, gives me the sense of biting into a lovely morsel. Of intoxicating myself in its petals, of dusting myself with its pollen.