The c a l l a series arose out of tribute to a dearly departed friend. You see, lilies were Sam’s favorite flower and to honor his nearly constant presence in my life for 16 years, I bought white calla lilies to ceremoniously send down the creek that runs through my backyard.

As with all living things, the callas started to decay before the day of the ceremony and I could not bear to send browning flowers down the creek in honor my beloved friend. Instead, I bought some stargazer lilies and left the callas on the dining room table as I was not able to bring myself to throw them away --they still somehow represented my Sam.

After a period of weeks, I began to see the callas in a different light; I recognized that another realm of beauty was emerging from their decay. My grief kept me away from my camera and I would walk past the dining room thinking, "maybe tomorrow."

The weeks continued to pass until the urge to capture the callas overpowered my sorrow long enough for me to grab my camera.

I sat with the callas, turned the vase this way and that, changed my position and perspective, and worked to stay present with them. With each passing moment and click of the shutter, I began to more fully understand that there was still an abundance of graceful and elegant energy in their presence and that the death of the body does not have to be the death of the being.