The Hell’s Kitchen Garden is always a source of inspiration for me. No matter the time of year, or time of day, there is always something new to see, and a new angle to take on things I’ve seen before.
I try and apply the same ability to visualize events and situations in life in the same manner. I am always trying to think from different perspectives to take in more possible outcomes for the things that may happen. As flighty as I may seem, at times I can be quite calculating.
Tonight I felt that my macro lens needed a workout, and set out for the garden just before it got dark. My beloved 50mm 1.4 lens seems to always be attached to my camera, so it was time for a switch. The golden hour had already passed, but the plants were still bathed in the last fading rays of the sun. They glowed.
The crocuses had blared their final fleeting trumpets already and gave way to periwinkles, lamb’s ears, and tulips. It was their night to shine in the darkness. Luckily, I had brought along my Gorillapod to take longer exposures in the waning light. It took a few tries to get the formula for the night correct and decide on a pleasing exposure, but the results are a perfect blend of the ethereal and the earthly.
I didn’t need a flash, ring light, or even much ambient light to set the mood for these small shots, because the graceful curves of the rising tulips were most inspiring to me. It took humans millennia to concoct bezier curves of their own for the jet stream era in the 50′s, but nature had been growing them all along.
Phi, fractals, and other sacred geometry within nature are the true roots of human creativity, and through their elegant symphony all beauty we create is called into existence in homage to that which came before us and what is to come.
Pause and consider the meaning of why our own veins mirror the branches and roots of the trees give us life. There is no reason to look further than our divine connection to nature for inspiration and meaning.