Photographing roses had an emotional beginning. Some time ago, my mother became ill and the roses I was photographing at the time, hastily abandoned in the garage, shrivelled and mostly died. I didn't throw away the roses. Instead I re-arranged them, put their wilted and dried little bodies together in a tiny posy and carried on photographing them. For a while I left this theme of roses. But I was recently drawn back to it: first roses and then other bouquets. It brought poignant feelings and loving memories; the curl of a pastel petal began a stirring inside. It was a time of waiting, arranging and re-arranging.
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