Reduction

Walking around the workshop at Grelen Gardens is a bit like visiting an art gallery. There are beautiful bouquets, wreaths in progress, urns with native greenery, and lots of pumpkins. Chrysanthemums in deep burgundy, purple, burnt orange, and yellow—buy one, get one free. Because we haven’t had frost yet, the dahlias are hanging in there, too. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and not know just where to point my camera. But reduction does something. It gives certain moments more space, more consideration. Each photograph I took on this visit was authentic in that I felt connected to the beauty and the space. But the photos are not interchangeable. The ones I share here are the ones that matter most to me. But the reader’s interpretation will always be subjective. Just as it should be.

Lucky

If you are lucky enough to know in any given moment that you are loved and seen and accepted, lucky enough to know what it’s like to be loved even when you are unlovable . . . reach out your hand, wrap your arms around them and whisper, I love you more than you can know. My husband knows that I will always make a beeline to photograph any compost pile of discarded flowers. I will walk right past the perfect petals and spend 30 minutes photographing those that are past their prime. The older I get, the more this practice feels like a gift. I am lucky and wise enough to know this truth as I live it.