A Different Kind of Power

In the Washington, D.C. metro area, the cities seethe with urgency and authority, and space for spontaneity or humor is limited. In the midst of all the seriousness, many homeowners (or Homeowner Associations) plant and maintain vibrant gardens. Whether it is a manifestation of their type-A personalities or a release valve for the pressure, I cannot say and it does not matter. These gardens delight me. This series celebrates the beauty and diversity of the flowers near my home. I follow in the footsteps of Imogen Cunningham as she explores her California neighborhood and captures the aesthetic and graphic qualities of the “ordinary” plants around her. I left these flowers undisturbed when I photographed them—I did not pick or move or arrange them. Then, by removing all context, color, and scale in the presentation, I allow each flower to reveal its character more clearly. The “common” and “extraordinary” flowers receive equal attention, with each one’s shape, texture, posture, and personality fully on display. A magnolia’s finger-like petals protect its vulnerable heart as it begins to loosen its grip. A late-stage peony still dignifies in its aging frills and unkempt beauty. A rose, with its structured swirl propeller and its unfurled wings, dreams of the sky. In this powerful place, where world-changing decisions are made every day, the fleeting beauty of each of these flowers reveals a different kind of power. The allure of the flowers does not force; it invites. It calls out from the ground, beckoning me to pause. As my pace slows, as my mind returns to the present moment, I start to take notice, and give thanks.