I think I’ve picked the wrong time of year, but I’m going to return to flower photography for a while. I’ve concentrated on portraits for the last little while – although I haven’t featured many on this blog – but now I want to return to flowers.
I love photographing flowers – there are so many colours, so many shapes, so many sizes, so many types. An endless array – and we celebrate that. We cultivate variety, we actively plan for it in our parks and gardens if we are of a gardening bent, and if we aren’t we wander through the park or garden enjoying the variety, looking out for that one different flower. We are amazed at the size of some flowers. We take photos, paint them, adorn our homes with them. We buy them and give them as a token of our love or a symbol of our sorrow, or our appreciation.
There’s no pressure for flowers to be a particular way – they can have whirly bits, and squiggly bits, and movement-y bits; they can be white or yellow or pink or mauve or any colour they happen to be – and they’re all beautiful.
Wouldn’t it be good if we thought of ourselves and each other like that? If we celebrated our whirly bits and squiggly bits and movement-y bits? If we celebrated the variety of colours and shapes and sizes. If we were amazed by each other? How much kinder might we be if we looked at others and celebrated them the way we do with flowers?
Here’s today’s dahlia. Who is your dahlia?
We went to Bendigo today – just because we could – and happened upon a huge Easter festival … markets, food trucks, rides for the kids, buskers, loads of vintage cars, and bus loads of people. We obviously hadn’t received the memo because we didn’t have our chairs – the streets were lined with people sitting on camp chairs or blankets, baskets of food and drink at their feet. It turned out they were waiting for the parade.
It was worth the wait! It lasted an hour and a half and finished with the longest Chinese dragon in the state (country/southern hemisphere).
Because we didn’t have chairs, we wandered around town and came across a conservatory … and in the conservatory were dahlias! (If you saw yesterday’s post, you’ll know why I was excited!). So, much sooner than I expected – here’s a close up of a dahlia!
It’s getting close to dahlia time again … until I can shoot this year’s crop, here’s one from last year.
We (my mother, my sister, and I) popped in to see Dad today. Since August last year my Dad has lived in an aged care residence and the last time I saw him was a few days before he moved in. It was great to see him in his new ‘home’. It’s full of photos of family: his three children, ten grandchildren, and 13 (direct) great-grandchildren – and mementoes of a life well-lived.
Here’s another photo that will take pride of place on his wall!!
* Photo by Debbie
Yesterday’s sunset was beautiful.
On this day 38 years ago, I became a mother for the first time! In some ways it seems like just the other day, but in many (many) more ways it feels like a lifetime ago. I suppose it was – Ben’s lifetime ago!
Ben was the best baby a new mother could have, particularly one as young as I was at the time. He was happy, content, good natured. With his blue eyes and blonde hair, he didn’t exactly take after me – or his father for that matter – but my mother (who has blue eyes and blonde hair) loved it when people mistook him for her son rather than her grandson.
Ben and I had to stay in hospital for ten days after he was born because he was jaundiced. I had to stop breastfeeding him – in those days breast milk was said to make jaundice worse, but I think the thinking has changed on that in the years since. During those ten days, the babies would be brought around at four hourly intervals to be fed – no feeding on demand back then – and they’d be brought round on a four-berth stainless steel cart with four slots in it for the babies. You could go and visit them in the nursery between feeds, but it wasn’t encouraged. When babies slept (or cried out of ear shot) that was the time for mums to rest.
There was a rule that you weren’t allowed to wash your hair for three days after the birth and you weren’t allowed to eat chocolate or peas (no big loss there) – but there was a smoking room for the mums who smoked.
Matrons controlled the nurses with an iron fist and they all wore hats – it really was a different time.
And now Ben is 38. I can remember when I was 38! When I was 38, my eldest grandson, Ben’s eldest son, had just turned two. Ben’s youngest son is about to turn two in a few months’ time. The circle of life!
Here’s Ben with Grandma – he’s not so chubby anymore, but he’s still as cute!!
Happy birthday Ben xxx
I’m away from home this week and so drawing from my archive. This is a flower I shot in the studio last year … I like the way the light seems to come from the inside of the flower.
A few weeks ago, Tim and I did a fashion shoot. I’ve already featured some of the female models – so today I thought I’d post a shot of Evan. I watched while others had their three minutes taking shots of him, and thought about what I could do to get a different image from the ones they were doing. No one else asked him to take his jacket off … so I did. He was very serious about it!
Free as a bird!
That’s me right now. Not as in kite surfing, but me as in free as a bird. I am officially between jobs and so am on holidays! Except for teaching … but apart from that, one job finished yesterday and my new one doesn’t start till April 24 … so I could go kite surfing if I wanted to!
They’re such beautifully contemplative places – places of calm and meditation. At least they are for us (my sister and I), as tourists. There are others for whom these spaces mean something entirely different. One space – many different emotional responses.