i keep telling myself to STOP photographing flowers! stop it! it seems their colorful faces are all i see these days. i head out walking miss daisey around the neighborhood, camera in tow, and i say “no flowers today.” i try, i do. i try to find fences or architecture or sky or signposts or chairs or something, anything other than flowers. but their colors and delicateness keep luring me back!
funny, i used to be a damn competitive, swashbuckling photojournalist. and i used to think that photographers who photographed flowers were pansies! i used to photograph politicians and world cup soccer and wildfires and gang members and city council meetings and crime scenes and the grand prix and dead bodies and once in a rare while a sunset. DEFINITELY NOT FLOWERS. i was 25, and even 35, and i loved it all! some scenes were horrible, blood and brains splattered on the sidewalk — now it churns my stomach to even write those words — but it was so exciting and different every day.
these days, you won’t catch me anywhere near the news. i’m allergic. don’t watch it, don’t read it, don’t want any part of it. i hear about the big things in conversations or from oprah! oil spill? earthquake? stockmarket? today i’m happy to say that i am a peaceful ostrich.
so now i photograph flowers, which brings me tranquility and wonder at the amazing, mystical world of mother nature. and it’s exciting and different every day.
oh, and i did photograph some faces of friends recently, just to change it up a bit.
do you have any suggestions of gentle, beautiful photographic subjects that i could add to my repertoire? would love to hear your ideas …