Spring of Life (2025)

Reflections

Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, gorgeous natural landscapes were such a major part of my life that I hardly even noticed them. I thought nothing of the giant redwoods, that were larger than most buildings, casually living in my neighborhood amongst intricately planted yards that took full advantage of how hospitable the local climate was towards so many species of fruits and flowers. I remember feeling confused the first time I saw persimmons, pomegranates and loquats in the grocery store because I grew up grabbing them for free off nearby trees. Every day on my way to elementary school, I would stop by this one patch of herbs next to the sidewalk, bend over and inhale from it deeply, which was typically the best part of my day. I did not really associate any of this with nature growing up, and it was not until much later that I would realize how much these experiences would mean to me.

Since it did not snow, winter was characterized by the trees on my block showing their bare grey branches, and when everything started to look and feel more colorful that was spring. Of course, when I was in grade school I mostly looked forward to summers, and during summers there would be more trips to beautiful coasts and parks and mountains beyond my neighborhood. I remember always preferring rocky beaches to sandy ones because of the tide pools. As time has passed I have developed an even broader appreciation for natural beauty, or what many of us refer to as "nature" of all kinds, and spend a large portion of my free time outdoors. Nothing brings me peace and happiness like feeling in touch with nature does, and I am still always searching for novel ways to be present with my surroundings. Looking back on my childhood, I truly cherish these early memories of nature that made me who I am today.

One day, I must have been no more than ten years old, when I was walking to the store I noticed the sun beating down on me in a way it never had. Noticing the giant redwoods lining the street whose protection I had taken for granted every day had been chopped down without notice filled me with indignation and grief. I believe this was the moment I realized how important plants were to me, for reasons I still cannot quite describe. I still visit my childhood neighborhood from time to time, and it feels more difficult to find the loquats, lemons, strawberry tree fruits and wild peppermint that used to line the streets. Perhaps this really is the case, or I am just less good at noticing things as an adult. Nevertheless, as humankind continues to wreak havoc on our planet in big and small ways alike, I am filled with gratitude for all the flowerful experiences I was not born too late to have.

Recently, I have developed an increasing obsession with wildflowers. Each spring where I live, a brilliant spectrum of wildflowers cover the land. A few years ago, a historic superbloom happened in California. I went south a few hours past Los Angeles, and a dry road of mountains, dry plains and desert that I had driven down so many times in my life was suddenly completely green, lush from the break in the statewide drought that I had heard about what seemed like my whole life, and I saw my home state in an entirely new light. I arrived at a lakeside park, paid around two or three dollars, and saw an explosion of color I had never seen before. The vivid orange, purple, yellow and white flowers against the blue, white and green backdrop of the grassy lake under partly cloudy skies was possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed, if such a thing can even be ranked, and it could only be seen during that specific window of time. When I went back again a couple years later only to have arrived during the wrong window of time, I learned an important lesson about the impermanence of natural beauty. Though the superbloom has not happened again on the same scale, every spring still brings a varying array of incredible wildflowers, each special in their own way. 

For this creative self-expression project, I wanted to incorporate my lifelong love of nature and my newfound interest in film photography. I am a career musician, so I considered making a musical project. However, I did not want to become mired in perfectionism like I typically am with musical projects. It felt more freeing to use a medium that I am still a novice with, as when I read the term "creative self-expression", I did not think about perfection and harsh self-judgment; I wanted the project to be something that made me feel good to do and represented where I am as a person today. In order to pay tribute to my musical side, I attached to the project an optional musical accompaniment, a song called "Spring of Life" that I made a few years ago which inspired the title of this project. 

One thing I like about film photography is the lack of instant gratification. My parents have asked me why I use such an antiquated method of capturing photos, and my answer is that my appreciation for this method has little to do with how convenient or technologically advanced it is; the lack of such factors brings much more intentionality to my picture taking. When I get my pictures developed, which can sometimes be months later, I not only get to relive what I experienced through them, but I also find great joy in reflecting on what I found interesting enough to use a shot on. I have realized that each time the seasons change, I am witnessing growth and beauty that I will never see again. Not to say that I won't see similar things many more times in my life, but each spring and summer and autumn and winter bring a completely unique landscape that springs forth from the conditions that came before it. Every beam of light and drop of rain and gust of wind shape how the environment will look for days, years and centuries to come. 

I experienced great joy not only taking these photos, but putting them together and looking back on everything I was so fortunate to see this spring. I intend to continue my practice of film photography indefinitely. I believe that creative self-expression is a method of keeping in touch with ourselves that is not only important but vital to our ability to thrive and survive. Also relevant is living in the moment, and appreciating things such as the changing seasons, time with loved ones, or even quality time spent with oneself, while they last. I will always be happy to provide a reminder that anybody in the world is capable of expressing themselves creatively. I have often heard other artists say things along the lines of "I don't have anything new to offer" when this is never the case. Whether it is nature photography, cooking, sports, journaling, any kind of art or any kind of expression, every individual has something to offer. I do not mean this in the sense of perfectionism or the tendency of artists to want to innovate in their field. Expressing oneself creatively is an act of self-love and thus an act of service to the world, regardless of what the outcome is. There are times when I have been completely alone and expressed myself creatively for no one else but myself, and felt much better in my skin for it. All forms of creative self-expression can help people feel more comfortable with who they are.

Work cited

Hanh, T. N. (2014). How To Love. Shambhala Publications.