The Longwood Gardens conservatory is a sight to behold. The crowning jewel atop acres of grounds fit for any court. It is here I encountered the majestic hanging baskets bursting with hydrangea paced about 20 feet apart. An orbital welcome, a floral chandelier guiding me about this aged, overground manse.
A springtime visit to Longwood Gardens with close friends is good for the soul. Spring season flowers were in bloom, and the late day golden hour sun danced upon the flower buds. An ideal mix for ground level photographs.
You need not me to tell you the world is an all out dumpster fire right now. Pandemics, invasions, unchecked authoritarianism, a warming planet, rank incompetence, and on it goes. It all feels a blur, and you are right to fret. But we must hold firm. We must take care of our own and hold…
What do we make of familiar places contradictorily feeling so foreign and so remote? What aspect of psyche brings this duality to bear? It’s like the discomfort in our own shoes writ large onto geography. It is but land. Nothing more; nothing less. So why do we give it so much power?
What happens when area mean with camera meets sci-fi meets video games? Well, Samus Aran shinesparking across the sunset sky is what apparently. I’ve been doing a fair amount of pan shot motion blur photography of late, and this has coincided with Metroid Dread launching, and well, now I seem to see Samus everywhere I…
The distance between insufferable isolation and serene solitude is near indistinguishable. It’s as if both states coexist as two layers laid atop each other. It’s a parallel world of contentedness vs. suffering. We must be cautious when decided someone’s loneliness for them, for we may never know if they are roiling or at peace. Therefore…
It’s been hard to relax these past few years. No one needs me to cite the manifold reasons why. More important is we stay humble and open, and apply ourselves to finding peace wherever we can. This is how we overcome together. So be kind and gentle—and let’s go Yanks!
Is the call coming back? Has the voice imploring me to return to making photographs grown louder and more urgent in recent weeks? Can I find inspiration and growth in making photographs once again? Is there more waiting for me in this space? I hope so, and I think so.
Observing the lifecycle of flowers—from bloom to doom—sets the mind thinking to our own aging arc. At middle age the flower of my youth is long gone making all this time alone more intense and frightening.
Displeased to report photography has been something of a chore these past few months. Here’s hoping there’s a chance to rediscover some of the magical respite I have benefited from these past 10 years.