Flower Art. Down The Road. I'm Trying To Learn How To Get People To Pay Attention To Flowers In A Different Way. Pretty Cheeky.

“When I was small and went to visit my O’Keeffe grandmother, I someetimes got into the parlor by myself and would take a shell from the “whatnot,” a set of fancy shelves between two windows. The shelves held many things I could not touch, but when I got in alone, I would take a shell from the whatnot and hold it close to my ear. I had been told that the sound I heard was the sound of the sea – I had not heard the sea at that time, but it was wonderful to me to listen to it in the shell. So when I grew up and went where there were shells, I was always looking for them.” — Georgia O’Keeffe, “Georgia O’Keeffe.”

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I have almost no memories of my childhood, just vague and blurred images that flash in and out. I was close to no one near me or outside of my life, and it wasn’t until I met Maria that I could be close to anyone.

It was quite a shock; I had no illusions about being an artist. I am still determining where it came from. I wanted to be a writer when I was eight, and it was my life.

I wonder at the certainty that O’Keeffe had – Maria has it about her art, but the flowers obsessed me about taking pictures of them. It was like a beast popped up inside of me and roared out.

I had never seen flowers, really, until I knew about them, and I wanted to help others see them. I could not charge people for buying them. I want them to be free. I’ll never put a price on them. But I am addicted to taking photographs of them—photos of what I see, not what anyone else sees.

They make me wonder what life is about when all is said and done. Mostly, we all worry about bullshit or things we could never control.

Georgia would not have agreed to that. She knew what she was worth and insisted on it, something most people are afraid to learn. I had that certainty about writing; I never considered myself an artist. I still identify as a writer; at least for now, I’ll keep it that way.

I’m learning not to look for an answer to everything but to let it happen and accept it. It’s so much easier that way. The most critical word in my language is “I don’t know.” I call these flowers “photo painting,” I hope they bring you peace and pleasure.