Apparently, when I was very young and we lived in Kansas, I delighted in driving past the fields of endless yellow flowers that grew near our home. I say “apparently” because I don’t actually remember this at all: it’s my mother who assures me I was obsessed with these fields. She also assures me that my three-year-old self did not understand the change of seasons or why the pretty flowers would disappear in the winter months, and that I’d demand to see them, no matter what time of year or how much snow blanketed the ground.
“Yellow Fields” is an image I shot in springtime in southern England during a trip I took together with my oldest son. The thick blanket of endless, brilliant yellow flowers was gorgeous, and I had forgotten about this photograph until very recently when I stumbled upon and and was thrilled by the discovery. My mom called me as soon as she saw it and laughed about the way I still must love yellow fields of flowers, even all these decades later.
While all the weekend holiday shopping events are finished for 2017, there is still time to pick up a last-minute hostess, teacher, or Secret Santa gift at the mkc photography studio. Be sure to contact us first to set up a time to come by: we want to make sure we’re here to welcome you!
I have a thing about balloons. I adore them. In fact, I love them so much that they make regular appearances in my artwork. Maybe that’s because my college roommate once tied my dream graduate school acceptance letter to helium balloons and had them floating in the living room so that I’d see the letter as soon as I opened the door to our apartment. I asked how she knew it was an acceptance and not a rejection, and she said she’d just had a really good feeling about it. We were both glad she was right.
For this piece, I envisioned a garden full of possibilities, of tiny things that grow and eventually take flight: a little bit of hope plus a little bit of magic sprinkled in…sort of like walking through a door and discovering a bouquet of balloons that proclaimed the arrival of that one small, yet monumental, envelope.
When you’ve spent so much time working in mixed media and collage, there is something so refreshing about scenes jumping directly from real life into your camera.
It was a partly cloudy August day when we drove from Provincetown to Harwich Port. We were in no hurry and had no schedule – we decided we’d simply stop and explore whatever bits of Cape Cod seemed interesting as we meandered back from the outermost edge of the Atlantic. As it turns out, all the bits of Cape Cod are lovely and interesting, so we did quite a bit of stopping.
Once such place was Marconi Beach, where the view from the top of the dunes is breathtaking – both literally and figuratively, on a windy day. The water temperature on this day was 59 degrees, but there were still some hardy souls braving the waves. I loved how the colors of the sea melted into the sky: depending on the light, the horizon would, on occasion, very nearly disappear.
I could have photographed from this spot all day, but the rest of the Cape was calling our name, so we continued on…