Inspired by my childhood garden, which no longer exists physically, I searched to rediscover lost innocence. Using my parents’ present-day garden as my guide, I witnessed the full cycle—from the first spears of growth until their inevitable demise.
Entranced by the vibrancy of the summer season, I turned to the anthotype process. Using the flower’s pigment to make light-sensitive emulsions, my photographs were impressed upon the botanical distillations by the sun’s rays. The results are like fossils, emphasizing the photograph’s inherent stillness and marked "death" of the subject. This act of collection and preservation initially transformed the garden's passing into something more lasting, yet due to the instability of both anthotypes and life alike, became an exercise in acceptance—of petals falling to the ground.