On week three of Marrisa Bridge’s Silent Journey series, one bud begins to atrophy as the others pull into the next stage of their vital expression. Where we, too, place our energy, determines what is realized. These fledglings remind me that in going forth, some things are left behind.
Wild nature of New York is still here, experiencing a resurrection on the first day of Spring. Marissa Bridge and I have a book idea, and as an exercise toward a finished project, we are posting one of her paintings a week for thirty-six in total, all the images from her series, Silent Journey. It’s a visual chronicle of orchid blossoms through every stage, a metaphor for the cyles of life in all living beings.
Stay tuned for the next installation. Life does go on.
At the risk of others finding out I am a not so secret tree hugger, that I photograph some of the same specimens every season, here are a few in my recent past. Every single one of them made me feel happy to be alive.
The Diva Amongst the Shadows
Two Rows, One Pair
A Village Scrapper
Hot Blooded Exuberance in Cold Weather: West 10th Street
Fire in the Sky at Dawn