With no formal training in photography, but a lifelong love of the visual arts, the camera has become a means of artistic expression for me, particularly in recent years. It has provided me with a much needed creative outlet in the midst of daily life and a way to reconnect with the natural world.
Through recent experimentation and self-teaching, I have introduced digital processes into my work. Utilising various editing apps, images are layered with tones and textures, blurring the lines between photography and painting, and between reality and fantasy, to give them an evocative and otherworldly feel. With a love of vintage biological prints and Japanese Sumi-e art, elements of both of these art forms strongly influence my work.
These images were taken during the months of Autumn, most of them in my garden. I have entitled this series, Mujō, a Japanese word originating in Buddhism meaning impermanence, transience or mutability. The link between impermanence and beauty is particularly evident during this season, especially in the changing hues of leaves and in the light, which has an intimate, conspiratorial quality to it.
Each image is an attempt, on my part, to capture something of the essence of these fleeting moments of vanishing beauty and is suffused with an atmosphere of Sabishi (the Japanese word for solitariness or loneliness): A solitary bird, poised or in flight, the moon obscured by autumn foliage, a tree momentarily illuminated by afternoon light, for example. Also, by adding tones and textures, the resultant patina is intended to give the photographs themselves a weathered or aged feel in keeping with the theme of impermanence.
With no formal training in photography, but a lifelong love of the visual arts, the camera has become a means of artistic expression for me, particularly in recent years. It has provided me with a much needed creative outlet in the midst of daily life and a way to reconnect with the natural world.
Through recent experimentation and self-teaching, I have introduced digital processes into my work. Utilising various editing apps, images are layered with tones and textures, blurring the lines between photography and painting, and between reality and fantasy, to give them an evocative and otherworldly feel. With a love of vintage biological prints and Japanese Sumi-e art, elements of both of these art forms strongly influence my work.
These images were taken during the months of Autumn, most of them in my garden. I have entitled this series, Mujō, a Japanese word originating in Buddhism meaning impermanence, transience or mutability. The link between impermanence and beauty is particularly evident during this season, especially in the changing hues of leaves and in the light, which has an intimate, conspiratorial quality to it.
Each image is an attempt, on my part, to capture something of the essence of these fleeting moments of vanishing beauty and is suffused with an atmosphere of Sabishi (the Japanese word for solitariness or loneliness): A solitary bird, poised or in flight, the moon obscured by autumn foliage, a tree momentarily illuminated by afternoon light, for example. Also, by adding tones and textures, the resultant patina is intended to give the photographs themselves a weathered or aged feel in keeping with the theme of impermanence.
With no formal training in photography, but a lifelong love of the visual arts, the camera has become a means of artistic expression for me, particularly in recent years. It has provided me with a much needed creative outlet in the midst of daily life and a way to reconnect with the natural world.
Through recent experimentation and self-teaching, I have introduced digital processes into my work. Utilising various editing apps, images are layered with tones and textures, blurring the lines between photography and painting, and between reality and fantasy, to give them an evocative and otherworldly feel. With a love of vintage biological prints and Japanese Sumi-e art, elements of both of these art forms strongly influence my work.
These images were taken during the months of Autumn, most of them in my garden. I have entitled this series, Mujō, a Japanese word originating in Buddhism meaning impermanence, transience or mutability. The link between impermanence and beauty is particularly evident during this season, especially in the changing hues of leaves and in the light, which has an intimate, conspiratorial quality to it.
Each image is an attempt, on my part, to capture something of the essence of these fleeting moments of vanishing beauty and is suffused with an atmosphere of Sabishi (the Japanese word for solitariness or loneliness): A solitary bird, poised or in flight, the moon obscured by autumn foliage, a tree momentarily illuminated by afternoon light, for example. Also, by adding tones and textures, the resultant patina is intended to give the photographs themselves a weathered or aged feel in keeping with the theme of impermanence.