Today at one of my jobs I was looking through the photographs of Irving Penn. After pages and pages of black and white fashion photos, these little bursts of pale pink and rosy red flowers popped out at me. I was instantly captivated and had to share.
I think what I find so lovely about these straightforward shots of roses, poppies, and begonias (there were tulips and peonies too, but I couldn't find good digital copies) is that you can see the tissue paper fragility of the petals and leaves - their vulnerability - but yet at the same time, they feel permanent. Like a finding a wildflower pressed between pages of a book - a mysterious and everlasting treasure.
I also love these muted but warm pinks. I know it's cliché, but it's one of my favorite color schemes. I first fell in love with it when my best friend at age 8 painted her room the palest shade of pink. Ballet tutu pink, I like to call it. I immediately needed my bedroom painted the very same shade, much to my dad's dismay. I think it took him over 5 coats to cover up the previous owner's awful choice of bright orange.
Even though this last one veers away from the pink flower theme of this post, I love the sharpness of these gingko leaves.
I love that I have a job where I am able to discover new photographers on a daily basis. This is what I told myself after being irrationally annoyed by one of my irrationally annoying coworkers.