Elevator

The Secret Life of Plants Through intimate, extreme close ups, this series draws viewers into the hidden dramas, games and caring unfolding within blossoms and leaves. In 2020, as COVID-19 kept us confined indoors and the world outside grew increasingly uncertain, I sought refuge in a photography project that could be safely and creatively pursued from home. With the news offering little comfort and my condo as my canvas, I turned my lens toward something abundant, accessible, and life-affirming: flowers and plants. Throughout the summer, I photographed blooms from my neighborhood, while in colder months, I turned to flowers gifted for birthdays, anniversaries, or simply small acts of kindness. Occasionally, when inspiration lagged, I’d splurge on a particularly unusual specimen from a florist. Using extreme close-up photography, I explored the hidden architecture of plant life—the intricate stamens, pollen-laced tubes, textured leaves—revealing structures often overlooked in a casual glance. But the more I looked, the more I began to see: not just botanical anatomy, but narrative, personality, even whimsy. Lamb’s ear leaves appeared to have landing strips for insect visitors. Pollen seemed to organize itself with the logic of miniature urban planners. Some flowers offered mazes, signals, or soft barricades, as though orchestrating microscopic dramas. As winter deepened, so did the stories. I imagined plants caring for each other, curving protective thorns to shield a drifting balloon, or reaching out with healing energy to a withering neighbor. When isolated too long, some plants even seemed to invent games, their forms reshaped with playful mischief. The Secret Life of Plants is, at its heart, a project about quiet resilience, joy, and connection. These images are not scientific studies, but poetic interpretations—offering a touch of fantasy, a nod to empathy, and a sense of healing in the smallest corners of the natural world.