Making art, for me, begins with awareness—the ability to notice what moves us in an ordinary moment. Sometimes that awareness appears in the smallest places, like standing at the kitchen sink preparing coffee. That’s what happened a few mornings ago. I slowed down long enough to feel the energy of sunlight as it gently started the day. I thought, that’s beautiful. Creating images is part of my daily life, so I paused, embraced that quiet, and made a simple photograph—a moment of morning arriving, carried on the light of sunrise.
The series “Floral Essence” comes to a finale. A post about the Amaryllis feels like the perfect subject at the right time with which to conclude this series.
As holidays near, wax-dipped Amaryllis bulbs show up in the shops, ready to brighten the gray winter days with color.
Amaryliss buds
Named from the Greek word for “to sparkle,” it is fitting that the Amaryllis blooms in winter, around Christmas.
Given their sturdy stems and vertical profile, Amaryllis symbolize strength, pride, and determination. When the flowering phase ends, you can cut the stem and preserve the bulb; it will flower again next year. With proper care, it can live for up to 75 years.
Amaryllis buds
Thank you for following Floral Essence. It has been an inspiring journey through the language of flowers.
An exceptional monograph is on the way, stay tuned!
Back to work on a new series about a different subject.
Feather grasses growing on the Steppes of Kazakhstan
Feather Grasses, like these near Sergeyevka, Kazakhstan, have grown for millennia in the thin topsoil of the Steppes; some varieties are now scarce or endangered species. The Steppes were covered in this ideal pasturage prior to the Soviets’ misguided Virgin Land Reclamation policy of the 1950s, under which nearly 25 million hectares (approximately 62 million acres) of the northern Steppes were plowed to plant wheat.
The feather grasses provide nutrition for horses, cattle, sheep and goats, ensuring a sustainable food source for nomads.
The sea of grasses move in waves with the wind, nurturing a soul that’s living in relationship with nature.
Practicing photography can be much like practicing meditation. Both invite us to slow down and truly see. They heighten our awareness, sharpen our attention, and help us become more attuned to the quiet details that often pass unnoticed. This image is an expression of that mindful practice.
While driving near Sarasota, a field of snapdragons caught my eye—just a glimpse of color in my peripheral vision. I pulled over, spoke with the property owner, and was welcomed to wander the field with my camera.
As I began photographing, a gentle wind set the flowers in motion. In that moment, I saw not simply a field of snapdragons but blossoms dancing in the wind. I worked to capture the movement of the wind through the petals—more than a still image, a sense of motion and energy.
This photograph is the outcome of years of patient observation and practice. It also reflects what happens when we allow the mind’s eye to see beyond what is in front of us—when imagination meets perception, and feeling becomes form.
This series of images is part of a larger collection called Floral Essence. I’ll share more about that in the near future.
To see this image and more flower pictures, visit the gallery Flowers at: www.wayneeastep.com
Mother’s Day was approaching, and I found myself thinking about my mother-in-law. I called the wholesale florist I was working with and ordered two dozen white roses. When I brought them home and arranged them in a vase, one rose stood out—it appeared flawless.
A flawless white rose bud.
I gently pulled it from the bunch and studied it closely. Something about the purity of its white petals and their perfect symmetry captivated me. I took it to the studio and spent hours lighting and studying that single bud. The exercise became a kind of meditation.
Since then, I’ve often reflected on the blessing of creating art—how it can draw us into a deeper relationship with the simple act of seeing.
Reflecting on beauty and the creative process reminds me of Rumi’s poem.
A flawless white rose bud.
“What was said to the rose that made it open was said to me here in my chest.
What was told the cypress that made it strong and straight,
What was whispered the jasmine so it is what it is,
whatever made sugarcane sweet,
whatever was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in Turkestan that makes them so handsome,
whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush like a human face,
that is being said to me now. I blush.
Whatever put eloquence in language, that’s happening here.
The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude,
chewing a piece of sugarcane,
in love with the one to whom every ‘that’ belongs.”
The Amorphophallus titanum is the largest unbranched inflorescence flower in the world. The plant grows to between 6 and 12 feet tall. With a name and size like that it’s no wonder it makes the news when it blooms.
Phallus Spike
From bulb to bloom can take up to ten years. After that long wait the bloom only lasts for about 24 to 48 hours. The plant originates in Sumatra in Indonesia.
Film cross-processed | Amorphallus titanum
Because of this plants unusual resume I thought how can I make an image that suggests its dramatic presence. I settled on cross-processing some of the images to evoke the energy of this amazing plant. Cross-processing is when you use positive film and process it in negative chemistry. Doing this you never know what you’ll get.
Spathe (leaf) Amorphophallus titanum. Film image
This series of images is part of a larger collection called Floral Essence. I’ll share more about that in the near future.
To see these images and more flower pictures visit the gallery Flowers at www.wayneeastep.com
As we were driving along the border of Kazakhstan toward Mongolia, we crested a hill. The field in front of us, all the way to the horizon, was filled with sunflowers as far as the eye could see. I had our fixer pull over. I got out of the jeep, went into the field, and made a series of images of the golden carpet of sunflowers in full bloom. It knocked me out!
Over the next couple of years, the magnificence of those sunflowers remained alive in my memory.
I wanted to learn more about sunflowers. My curiosity was not just about the beauty of their bright blossoms, but what they were all about. I ordered mammoth sunflower seeds, planted the seeds in a circle in my yard, waited, and watched. Over three months, I photographed the stages of growth from seedlings to decline. What I observed increased my appreciation for their beauty but raised even more questions.
Why did every flower develop a similar spiral pattern? Why were the seeds packed in so tightly and at an angle? My research revealed many connections between nature, mathematics, philosophy, and the rich history of intellectual inquiry — more on that in a later post.
The short-form answer to my questions is that the spiral pattern and the angle of the seeds in the sunflower represent the most efficient way to pack seeds in space and ensure reproductive success. The spirals are called “golden spirals,” reflecting Fibonacci numbers. The elegant angle of the seeds to each other aligns with the “golden angle’’. The pattern of the seeds in the sunflower represents what, in mathematics and aesthetics, can be called beauty — more on that in a future post. Leonardo Da Vinci described this phenomenon, which can also be seen in hurricanes, galaxies, pinecones, and pineapples, as the “Divine Proportions”.
One day, when the flowers were reaching maturity, I watched a pair of wild Brazilian Green Parrots as they fed on the seeds. The two parrots took up positions next to each other on two sunflowers. While one ate, the other stood guard, watching for any threat. After a while, they switched roles. The one guarding then ate, and the other provided protection.
Many years ago I was walking past a small grocery store on Madison Avenue in New York City. In front of the store were tall buckets filled with flowers. One collection of flowers caught my attention, they were parrot tulips. I think it was the first time I had seen this type of tulip. It was love at first sight.
That moment was etched in my memory. Many years later that experience triggered an idea. I made arrangements with a wholesale florist to import three dozen parrot tulips each week. For a couple of months I would photograph the parrot tulips in my studio. The tulips were so varied and beautiful. I kept seeing new variations in the design and ended up creating a collection of images of the parrot tulips.
Like many people I had an appreciation for flowers. Now the feeling has turned into a passion. I keep a bouquet of fresh cut flowers in our home every week and continue to create images of them
Close up of parrot tulip petalsClose up inside parrot tulip blossom
I’ve curated a series of the flower images and will be sharing them in the coming weeks.
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