Wild Rose is a body of work that reflects both escapism and presence. 

For the viewer, it’s intended as a gentle offering of escape, a healthy distraction providing respite amidst the cacophony. For myself, the creator, it’s a deliberate space carved out to practice, presence, and awareness of my surroundings—and in turn self. What began as an exercise to reprioritize the role nature played in my life became an ongoing effort in cathartic observation of time and place.

After several years in New York City, I found myself elated when experiencing autumn for the first time amidst the river valleys of the small Canadian town I grew up in. I returned to New York with an imbued sense of purpose to further pursue that reconnection with flora. I began making time wherever I was—at home or away—to seek out and take in plant life. City streets, parks and gardens, neighborhoods with abundant foliage, rural towns and isolated nature far from human development. All offered opportunities to take in thriving plant life.

My internal directive was to document plants akin to the way I photographed people. Taking portraits of plants allowed me to be an opportunist in the moment, with the sun as my lighting director. A flowering ditch weed or a vine tendril appearing through a crack in the sidewalk—both hold the same weight and vibrance in that moment as the 100-year-old tree does in another. Precise locations and geographies have never been important when sharing the work, as it’s felt antithetical to the purpose. Still moments with growth can be found in many places.

After a time, habits formed and I found myself pausing more, regardless of a camera being present or not. The stop to cross a street now gave a regular chance of awe for a London Plane or Ginkgo boulevard tree, for example. The practice also inspired a desire to learn more of the plants I admired, and expanded my knowledge of them throughout their seasons.

It’s my hope that sharing this work can offer some semblance of that stillness to others. That a sense of appreciation for green life around you can bring both peace and escape—if even for just the pause it takes for a light to change.