Crimes of (floral) passion

Usually, if I am to photograph flowers it is to accent a look, but never solo. Cold winter days when the weather is just too dreadful to go out are perfect for fiddling around with unsatisfactory projects that I hid under many digital layers in my archives. Not only did I intensely dislike what I saw back then, but I wasn’t sure how I wanted to process them either.

Using my current literary WIP (work in progress) as a photocopy prompt, I decided to find out what would happen if I cast a more malevolent light on the flowers without sacrificing the delicacy. The aim was literally to draw blood, or at least sorrow. This is what happened:

The rose insecure of its own beauty and strength, while the peony is in the throes of an existential crisis, sensing the approaching and inevitable death.

Like several other things in my creative journey, sometimes it takes a few months or years to figure out the niche I feel at home in. Those who follow my photography and know me from instagram will have immediately noticed that the one subject I rarely photograph is flowers. They are challenging yes, and I find it extremely difficult to do justice to them, but every photographer has a preferred genre, and floral isn’t mine. I suppose its because I can’t help looking at all the floral shots I’ve taken and thinking that they look too much like stock photos or a postcard you quickly grab at the train station to scribble a note on as an afterthought. I respect and admire the photographers who can pull this off and transcend the commercial look.

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