Our lives are made up of a thousand passages across the seas of birth and death, playing out again and again, in endless motion, like the movement of the hands of the clock, like the comings and goings of the seasons. Each winter gives way to a new spring, each ending, a new beginning. And so it goes.
There is poetry in the progression, magic in the emergence and calm in the senescence.
Last fall I gathered some fresh crabapples, bitter, nearly inedible fruit, to use in some photos. Their colors speaking to me of the brighter days of autumn. I stuck them in a paper sac, along with other treasures gleaned from walks along the banks of the Seine near my home. And there the sat, during the long, grey, Parisian winter.
Spring came, as it always does, and with its return, the crabapples blossomed once again, pale pink blossoms, luscious crimson buds. Wanting to capture and safeguard some of their essence, I snipped a few branches and brought them home to photograph.
It was then that I remembered the fruits I had collected last fall. The paper sac was still on top of my armoire, thankfully undisturbed by our curious, height-seeking kitten. She had left my sac of treasures alone. I pulled the crabapples out and they were completely shriveled on the stems, but, to my pleasant surprise, well-preserved. And as you can see, a photo series was born.
Life story, part I: Waiting
"It is at the edge of the petal that love waits." ~William Carlos Williams
Life story, part II: Opening
"My body's been touched a thousand or more times, but I am craving something so much deeper than that. I desire to be felt, right down to the core of my soul and the corners of my heart. That's what love is all about, isn't it? Cracking yourself open to the possibility that it could change your life." ~ Nikki Rowe
"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to bloom." ~ Anais Nin
Life story, part III: Sensual decay
“Decline is also a form of voluptuousness, just like growth. Autumn is just as sensual as springtime. There is as much greatness in dying as in procreation.”
― Iwan Goll
In this season of growth and promise and abundance, I am reminded of the fact that the wheels are forever in motion. This prompts me to slow down and savor. And photography gives me a vehicle for preserving the character of the moment.
Until next time,
Anne