Monochrome Madness

10 years ago, I packed away my beloved home darkroom and moved into the equally dangerous (and almost as stinky) world of mothering.  A year ago, I finally broke down and purchased a digital photography setup and began the long journey back into an art form I thought I’d all but lost.

10 years ago, I worked exclusively in black and white- monochrome- and loved it.  A holy roller proselytizing the virtue of contrast, composition, and constraint. With the DLSR and Adobe, I will admit, it’s too easy  –  I have taken a real shine to color, especially when the flowers are in bloom. But my heart- my deepest artistic writer heart- still loves black on white- words or print.  There is just a depth there that color can’t begin to touch.

To honor that, for the last month or so, I’ve tried to regularly submit to Leanne Cole‘s wonderful weekly Monochrome Madness postings- wholly intimated by the skill and art of my fellow submitters, but in awe of the amazingly beautiful pictures my work sits beside.  Having made my first black and white 8×10 print in a decade yesterday- that of Miss Esther, on my inkjet photo printer – I once again find myself missing the gorgeous depth of my darkroom prints- the range of tone, the texture of the paper, the acrid smell of the chemicals, the breathless anticipation of a print developing in a tray. If you have a good recommendation for a photo print shop, let me know. My home prints are just proofs, I think, and proof yet that my heart is not foolish in it’s longing to set back up the darkroom.

But- at least on the screen- these submitted photos are a few of my heart’s most recent favorites.

Many Blessings!

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