A Moment in Time
The vessel was set.
I balanced the flowers just so. A few frogs (not the thing that goes ‘ribbet’, the pin device that holds up flower stems) and tape to get it just right.
The tripod was adjusted to stand at eye level with the peonies, and allow for enough space around to capture the scene–a sliver of the table and red wall backdrop.
My focal length was 85mm with a 1/40sec exposure time.
No one was allowed to breathe. No one could move. Luckily, Lady (my shiba) was fast asleep in the other room.
I set the time, and immediately pulled my hand away from the camera.
The house’s old floors amplified the subtlest of shifts. I held very still, arms left in mid-motion, head slightly tilted to get a look at the camera screen.
I held my breath.
And then the shutter came and went.
It was perfect. All was still and unwavering.
I’ve been imagining a form of this piece for the past couple of months.
It started with a pottery class with Bella, the owner of Lifestyle Pottery.
I needed to get away from all of the technology. I wanted something to do that would allow me to create with my hands and raw materials.
I took her private course where I learned the fundamentals of throwing clay on a wheel…something I hadn’t done since high school (I won’t bother with a year). My biggest fear, going into the class, was that my clay would end up flying across the room.
Bella was a wonderful teacher, though.
I was able to keep the clay on the wheel and made my first bowl and a small vase.
There was quite a bit of trial and error, but, in the time I had, I patiently allowed myself to make mistakes, ask for help, and bring to life an imperfect vision of what I wanted to make.
I left the work with Bella to fire, and waited two weeks to return to glaze the pieces.
I held steady with a brush to get the hand painted lines just right. I wanted a raw base for the floral vessel to emphasize the materials used to construct the piece.
Again, I left the pieces with Bella to fire.
After a few weeks and some travel, I returned to pick up the final work.
Within the past few months, I discovered I live not but 12 minutes (driving) from a flower farm. It’s both amazing and dangerous for me… well dangerous for my budget, amazing for my creative work and the house.
When the pottery was complete, I ventured off to the farmstand.
I was in search of the seasonal peonies and a few wild filler flowers. I wanted something that would accentuate the seafoam colored vase.
I had a vision of the florals billowing out from the top, exploding with color and petals.
Then I waited some more.
The peony bulbs needed to pop. I needed to see the ballerina-like skirt blossom from their stems.
And then it happened, and I had all but a day or two to get it just right.
Which leads me back to the beginning.
After finding the right combination and height for the flowers, I went to work building the composition.
Two flower frogs and a couple of strips of tape later, I had the right balance.
When I say balance, I literally mean balance. It was my first handmade vase, and the inside was slightly uneven. It took a good 20 minutes for me to get the positioning right… without tipping over (I quietly begged the flowers to stay upright).
All of this work.
All of this time.
It amounted to this.
“If you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for a moment.”
This piece isn’t just a floral arrangement in a vase.
It’s patience, thoughtfulness, creation, and time.
Not just my own, but everyone’s involved.
It’s the embodiment of how I wish to live my life.
Most of my days have been spent in hyper-speed with checklists and schedules, and all of those things. It’s been spent locked into the digital world where everything is instant, immediate, now now now.
But I don’t really need or want.
I just want to be.
Over the last year, that’s what I’ve been trying to teach myself. By way of my photography work and into my day-to-day.
Just to breathe in, and let the moment be.
After many months of learning, practicing and creation, I sat back and looked at this work.
Time has taught me patience. It’s taught me meticulous detail. It’s taught me deeper understanding of my art.
And it’s taught me focus.
In the moments.
S.
Shot on Sony a7iii & 85mm lens.
Thank you to Sunny Meadows Flower Farm for the most beautiful flowers, and Lifestyle Pottery for teaching me a new world of art.