This time last year, I was walking through my back then neighborhood with a not mine dog, when I noticed a purple/pink spot hanging from a vine crawling on the neighbors wall. I’ve seen that flower before, many times. I’ve also seen it’s red version, white version and another purple/blue version. Every time I see it, it is an immediate stop and stare. The Passiflora flower has the kind of complex beauty that cannot be ignored. After a few minutes of looking, touching the velvet like petals and realizing one more time that no, this flower doesn’t have a strong scent, I kept walking. Back home, an hour later, I kept thinking about the flower and decided to create a story with it.
I walked back to the neighbors house and asked for permission to cut one flower and a little piece of the vine. After all, I’d like to know that one of my flowers is missing.
Back home I was confronted by the flower, the vine and a plain white wall. I had all the ingredients to craft a story. But was was the story?
With no clear path or objective I started doing. Click, click, click, the shutter kept going and different configurations of poses and elements came together.
From there to the darkroom, I ended up with only two keepers.
I considered that spark of creativity an isolated event and it wasn’t until a couple of months later that I decided to expand on the idea and create more images. This story wanted to keep growing; there was more to these isolated images. Fourteen more images came to life within one year and they took place in three different countries – Uruguay, USA, and Mexico. What once felt like a random one time thing opened up a box filled with meaning and possibility.
I’d like to say that the 16 images that I have today are it and that the story is over. But from what I’ve learned, stories are not cast in stone, they are open, fluid and ever changing.