Greetings! I’m excited to offer limited edition archival prints of select images from the 365 project starting this week.
Archival matte inkjet prints on cotton rag. Signed and numbered limited editions of 25.
11 x 14 (or 12 x 12 for square images) unless otherwise noted. Printed in my studio. $40.
Please contact me directly with questions or to place custom orders.
Thank you for your interest. And now, to the pictures…
57/365: holding on
This is kind of a novelty image – the last remaining bit of the tree that grew right around a power line – but it got me to thinking. When is holding on a virtue – a sign of grit and perseverance? When is it detrimental, futile or foolish? When is it time to let go?
58/365: dragon’s blood gone cold (sedum spurium)
Winter reveals the architecture of things. The bones of the trees. The flower within the flower, skeletons beneath summer’s colorful and abundant flesh.
59/365: glaciers receding, lake nokomis
As the lake opens up, the last holdouts of ice and snow stand out like relics. Any snow still standing at this point is likely a souvenir from the pond hockey tournament. What a contrast between that bustling, temporary city on ice to this still, desolate landscape.
60/365: freshly fallen diptych
I always admire the crisp graphic quality of black and white lines formed by freshly fallen snow on branches. There is a stillness, too, a moment before the pristine white blanket is marked and disturbed. The open water lends contrast through reflection and movement.
61/365: accidental gardeners
Echinacea is one of the best plants to leave standing for the winter. The prickly seed heads evolve all season as the seeds scatter. This one looks as if it’s having a bad hair day…
I imagine each seed let loose by the accidental gardener: the wind.
62/365: studio sunrise
It doesn’t get much easier or more spectacular than this! I am always wowed by a beautiful sunrise or set but it can be such a cliche subject to photograph. Shining through droplets of melted frost, however, the effect was truly magical.
63/365: let the sun shine, let the sun shine in
A sad-looking window in an empty-looking house. The bright sunshine and squiggly shadows contrast the mood of the shabby, gray curtains within, always drawn.