After some time away from social media, I’ve returned to share a quieter body of work — a series of tulip photographs made over the past several months. While still life has always been central to my practice, these images mark a subtle shift: not in subject, but in medium.
Instead of graphite, ink, or pastel, these works are photographic — though still grounded in the same careful observation and slow-making that shapes my drawings. The camera becomes another way of seeing: not a shortcut to detail, but a tool for distillation — to frame a fleeting moment before it collapses or curls away.
Closed Form
The first image in the series.
A tulip just before it begins to yield. The petals are tight, the light soft. There’s no grand performance here, only quiet tension. I wanted the image to feel like a held breath.
What Holds a Moment
There’s something grounding about the still life tradition — the control, the pause, the intimacy. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to pay attention in a world that moves quickly.
This series isn’t about celebration or bloom. It’s about form held together just long enough. The moment before collapse. The poise within decay.
I’ll share more of these images over the coming weeks, along with a few thoughts on the process and what I’m aiming for with the prints.
If you’d like to be notified when the prints are released, you can sign up to my newsletter or follow along on Instagram.
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Thanks for reading,
Louis
