The way to my garden -at our home in Saint Elmo -is down a brick path and through an arbor. On each side there is a wall of doors. Twenty-year old wisteria climbs over the doors. Each crepe myrtle has been planted as a reminder of the gift of life for each of our four children, their husbands and wives, and our two grandchildren. I have spent much time in this garden and have photographed many friends and family in this garden. I have painted, made pottery, and woven baskets… in this garden.
Before it was my garden, it belonged to the Krichbaum family. Maude was the last Krichbaum to live in the house before passing the garden to me. I have been blessed with ten foot tall azaleas and oak leaf hydrangeas that are ten feet in diameter. I very rarely venture out of my garden. I inherited a fig tree that grows figs the size of pears and have been blessed with an enormous harvest of plums this year. My garden came indoors again this year as I enjoyed canning and preserving plums.
In our urban and suburban worlds, we are losing consciousness of this deep primal connection with the garden. Our hurried lives diminish our ability to connect and be creative.
I have known that I was an art teacher since I was eight years old. A wonderful art teacher in third grade saw my love for the creative process and took me under her wing, as her assistant. Therefore much of my life has found me studying art and enveloping myself with beauty and growth. Photography enables us to savor what grows and changes for longer than it exist. So, I have been taking photographs most of my life.
I began taking photographs- so that I could paint and draw from my own compositions. I discovered that a camera gives an artist a license into the lives of people you would not otherwise have access to. There is a trust between the artist and the sitter. Most of the photographs I have taken have been portraits- shot with a 35 mm camera - with black and white film. Many of the photographs have been of my home and my family. In the words of Imogen Cunningham," What could I do- I couldn't get out of the garden".
This latest series is of the bath houses at Velsicol. I began photographing industrial parks after capturing Chattanooga Glass Company on color film. I have enjoyed photographing things that don’t move. That is until their demolition. I have since gone back and photographed the remains.