Category Archives: Flowers

Single Apple Blossom Petal Impaled on Grass Blade, 2013

Abruptly switching from the chock-full of chaos and energy images from Nepal from the last few weeks, here’s something more fresh out of the camera from Vermont last week. It was a rainy day, and I almost didn’t go out. I thought maybe the apple petals might be falling though, and the pond-surface was clean with rain. Possibilities. Looking closely I found this one petal, with a bit of a dewy spiderweb on it no less, pierced by a single blade of grass. Maybe the grass blade grew up through the petal, or maybe the petal fell hard enough to get skewered. Neither seems likely. Something like that happened though.

Worth setting the tripod up!

Pale Pink Peony After Rain, 2009

It’s hot here on the east coast, and that has almost gotten me to post more winter snow and ice abstracts. Not that it’s hard to get me to do that. After getting a bit sick of snow and ice a couple of months ago (photographically, as well as experientially), I’m lately finding that when those images come up on my screen I feel an, “Ahh.”

I’ve actually been working with peony images since the last post here, organizing, tagging, and starting to rate the images, which were just sprawled out through the years, coming up every June in the flow of thumbnails. In a very nice way.

Today deciding to really post a winter shot, I was struck by this peony. It’s cool, despite the summer soltice-ey time of year. It’s cool not just because of the water drops and soft colors, but because it’s a splash, in the composition. The splash makes it sort of cool and hot at the same time.

If the heat keeps up (Jeff Masters, meteorologist for the Weather Underground, says this is the warmest 12 months ever. Again.) — if it keeps up I will post some ice.

Stay cool! Enjoy the summer, it flies by.

This print is for sale here.

Phyla of Joy Book Cover

Phyla of Joy Book Cover

I’m flattered that Tupelo Press chose this image for the cover for this book of beautiful poems.

Not only that, but there are other books in the winter spring catalog using my photos too.

As a photographer, I usually don’t mess with the orientation of images, and I only crop if it really helps. But I also like to support creative designers. In this case I’m glad the designer took liberties with the orientation of the image. My original is here. He rotated my horizontal by 90 degrees clockwise and fit the text into the curve. Success!

And then they used it again for the catalog cover. Upside down this time. But you know, it’s better that way, maybe. The catalog cover is here:
Tupelo Press Cover

Sunflower Facing West, November 2010

I’ve been thinking of scanning and posting an old favorite of mine. I’d have to find and scan some 4×4 film, not such a big deal. And I want to do that anyway. But then I got caught up in looking at more recent images, and this very much reminds me of that other one.

This is from the same ice storm as that other image I posted, the stump and weeds.

I’ll try to post that old favorite one next week. It hasn’t been online since the 90s, and I can get a much better scan of it now.

This print is for sale here.

dandelion with centurea 2010

dandelion and centurea

I’m working in a few directions with photography these days, but this is the image making it up here for almost-explicable  reasons. I’m working on scanning some old black and white film, which is amazing. These old pieces of sheet film remind me of the first time I saw a Van Gogh painting up close. I had a shock of recognition: Van Gogh had managed to put some kind of energy — the energy of his mind, his experience, his contact with the world; something intangible but palpable — he had put that energy into each brush stroke. I could feel it, standing there in front of the painting. And I realized that what I was trying to do then as a young man was possible. I didn’t know exactly how to do it, but I had the strong aspiration to contain some kind of energy and awareness into the physical objects, print and film.

I think I sometimes pulled it off, and sometimes still do. These old big pieces of film that I haven’t looked at for many years hit me with a little jolt sometimes, when I get a sense of that some-kind-of-energy trapped in the surface of the silver crystals. But this scanning project is a process just barely underway, and hampered by the same thing my life with sheet film always was — how to find the thing I’m looking for?

The other thread in my thinking is continuing with my interest in the Ukiyo-e, “floating world” composition and aesthetic. I have one of those from last week, new, but I’m not positive it’s good enough to go live.

Anyway, this new image, “dandelion with centurea” is from this spring/early summer. It’s been haunting me a little bit, and I felt compelled to put it online. I like the way it shows the moment as a precarious dot in the space of time. The dandelion gone to seed is at the edge of what it has been, starting the wind-born journey to what it will be. It’s moment is all but gone, yet clearly in focus, master of the moment. And moving into its own is the blue of the early summer garden flower, more than holding its own against the weed.

This print is for sale here.

black and white peony, square with raindrops 2010

While it’s usually easy to make exposures — especially in some of the times of year when beauty is everywhere I turn — sometimes it’s hard to pick a photo of the week. Sometimes it’s like pulling my own teeth. Sometimes when digging through the catalog, everything looks good. And how to pick? Or sometimes nothing looks worthy. Why am I even doing this?

On Friday when I went pearl diving, I came up with this. I like it a lot. Seeing it in black and white helped pull some of the things I like about photographs: subtlety of tone and texture, dynamic energy in the composition, a poignant pointing-out of the passing of time, the bubble-like nature of experience and existence. This is why I’m doing this work.

update 8.3.2010: this print is now available for sale here

Peony on flagstone – and what I learn from photography

The other morning I was in the garden, and I saw some beautiful light on flowers. I thought I should go get my camera, but I had a lot of other things to do that morning. I thought, “Maybe I’ll photograph tomorrow instead.” And it hit me — “Now. Right now. There is no tomorrow for this light on these flowers.” The main thing that photography has taught me is that there is no tomorrow. The light shining on flower petals in dew will not be the same in ten minutes, yet alone tomorrow. I’ve known this well for a long time, but still I always forget and have to remember it again. To us it seems as if things are solid, they’ll still be there for us, we can take them for granted. It seems that life is solid.

When I was in college, so busy and my mind full of thoughts and tasks in the transition to spring; I would look up while walking between classes and realize that the trees had leafed out. Suddenly it was spring, and I had barely noticed it had happened. I had missed so much while lost in thoughts. Of course, we’re always in transition, and we barely notice it.

And so it is with peony season. The days have gotten longer, the birds have been singing. Iris have come and gone. We should have noticed enough to know that THIS would come, that the world would be so rich and lush, the days so long and full of light and color. If we’re lucky it registers, we really notice; but the petals are already falling, the days already getting shorter. Look! And then it’s already gone.

Remember the flowers, the passing of time, and the people in your life.

Part of a Peony: Crinkled Linen June 2010

Peony Crinkled Linen

One of my favorite peonies over the years has been one called “Crinkled White.” I’ve even moved Crinkled White peony plant a few times as I’ve moved, which is tricky, because it is also one of the least vigorous peonies I’ve ever grown. I think that in the last move the Crinkled White didn’t make it here, back across the river again to Vermont. I ended up buying Crinkled Linen a few years ago, and I might even like this peony better. We’ve also moved here to a handful of huge, established, and unusual peonies, so we’re rich.

update 8.3.2010: this print is now available for sale here

Dandelion Fluff in Ranunculus

We have a relatively new flower garden in ground that was only broken last year. It’s full of weed seeds, which ran away on us late last summer. This spring it’s a hand and back breaking job to pull the grasses, dandelions,  sedges, curly dock, queen ann’s lace, and others from among the flowers.

I was working there the other morning, with camera at hand, and it turns out that my best photos actually featured the weeds, with the flowers as backdrops.

It is a good perspective to have on Mind as well.

The following is a quote from Suzuki Roshi, from a dharma talk given in November of 1965:

“We say ‘pulling out the weed’.  We make it nourishment of the plant.  We pull the weed and bury the weed near the plant to make it nourishment of the plant.  So even though you have some difficulty in your practice….even though you have some waves while you are sitting, those weeds itself will help you.  So we should not be bothered by the weeds you have in your mind.  We should be rather grateful to the weeds you have in your mind because eventually will enrich your practice.”

update 8.3.2010: this print is now available for sale here