sophia untitled

[untitled]

sophia

Three velvety soft white roses take up the otherwise barren foreground, letting their floral perfume tempt you. They stem from an abstract collection of pruned foliage, short bulbs and proud blooms. In the back a cozy cabin adorned with school photos, heirlooms and worn blankets stands, rooted into the gravel and rock. A door lets warm light shine through glass panes. In between the contrast of natural growth, and manmade structure, a slightly blurred man stands. He’s aging, yes you can see it in his wrinkly complexion that has many stories to tell but still wise as always. Wise and rich with the decades spent with family. Even though they slip away in his mind, each memory will forever exist in photographs etched with dates and crafts that only occupy space. He’s smiling, and in that smile I see a whole world. I see his daughter, my mom, who’s almost identical. Mostly I see my childhood with him, and the cozy cottage that stands behind him.