Remembering The Mojave Desert

Amargosa Opera House & Hotel

Death Valley Junction, California

Corn Creek, Nevada

Desert Spring

Ash Meadows, Nevada

Amargosa Museum, Through The Windows At Nighttime 

Death Valley Junction, California

Inside Amargosa Hotel

Death Valley Junction, California 

Scenes From The Tiny Jungle

Empty Greenhouses Diptych

180 degree pivot views; on the left looking west and on the right looking east

The Tiny Jungle

An exotic plants nursery in Daly City California

www.thetinyjungle.com

Translucent Greenhouse Walls

Two Bell Terrariums

A pictorialist detail

Natives Garden on Throckmorton & Rawlins, Oak Lawn Neighborhood, Dallas TX

My urban natives garden showing lyreleaf sage, golden groundsel, frog fruit and the red mulberry tree. Also in the garden but not shown here: American beauty berry, Turk's cap, Texas bluebonnet (state flower), coreopsis, black eyed Susan.

Even in a time or place when the humans are a big letdown, it's always getting to know the native plants that makes a place feel like home to me.

No matter where you live, it's always the native plants who have been there the longest of all the persons; of the two-legged persons, four-legged persons, winged persons or the no-legged-at-all persons, it doesn't matter- the native plants have been there the longest and they always know the most about how to properly BE in the place.

Native Texas backland prairie restoration effort in Oak Cliff Texas

Texas bluebonnets (state flower) on the side of the road near the Oak Lawn exit on route 35. One of the most endearing things about living in Texas is (using the word "y'all" obviously, and) how much the locals adore the fleeting bluebonnet season.

Our sycamore tree on the summer solstice, 2020

BOTANICAL Exhibition at Photoplace Gallery

Cholla Cactus, Mojave Desert

Photo by Norm Halm featured in juried exhibition of photography called BOTANICAL at PhotoPlace Gallery in Middlebury Vermont from January 29 to February 19, 2021

This picture means so much to me. It's emblematic of some of the happiest years of my life. Living in the Mojave Desert inspired a profoundly deep sense of love, gratitude and reverence for Nature that resulted in one of my most productive photography periods. It was the desert itself – the Mojave specifically – giving me life. Distinct from the Great Basin Desert to the north and the Sonoran Desert to the south, it is at once welcoming, hostile or both, but only in reciprocity to the level of respect, or lack thereof, that we hold as we tread on its land. Don't get it twisted, the Mojave is a living system: not empty, not a barren wasteland, not a dumping ground or a throw away backdrop for influencers or music videos. It is a nonhuman personhood in its own right and deserves to thrive and be in peace, regardless of what we can or can't extract from it. #MojaveDesertLove

Exhibition Catalog Available Here

Cover Photo by Deb Ehrens

Lee Anne White, Juror

Juror's Statement: What a wonderful experience this was—spending time surrounded by beautiful, creative, expressive and often surprising photographs of the plants that fill your world and the unique ways in which you see them, connect with them and share them with others.

And what a challenging experience it was. With a large number of entries, first impressions were important, but the selected photographs had staying power, as well. They not only captured my gaze and sense of curiosity, but kept me coming back. One of the greatest challenges in photographing plants and flowers is getting beyond the beauty of the subject to create a photograph that is powerful in its own right. And yet, mastery of composition, form, lighting and exposure isn’t enough either. I sought images that had that something extra—that expressed a mood, captured a moment in time, told a story or showcased the unique character of a plant. Some are elegant, others are joyful, many are tender. Some are powerful in their simplicity; others proved their ability to wrangle nature’s chaos into an organized composition. Some are very quiet; others are an explosion of color. They run the gamut from romantic to scientific to artistic to cultural. The sheer diversity drove much of my decision making when it came to selecting images for the two galleries.

In choosing award winners, I returned to the call for entry. The photographs had to put the plants first—to capture their spirit or unique characteristics; to show how they help create a sense of place; or to embody the deep, emotional connections we have with them.

Thank you to all for sharing your work, your world, our world. There is so much to be said for slowing down and taking a closer look at the beauty around us.

— Lee Anne White

From The Vault: Skull Detail & Ram's Horn

Top- Skull Detail, 1999

Bottom- Ram's Horn, 2000

I can't believe that it was over 20 years ago that I made these pictures, up all night on in-love and inspired evenings at a historic and beloved photography studio in the Hayes Valley neighborhood of San Francisco.

Film and hot lights. Dynalite strobes. Wet darkroom prints.

FINDING THE LIGHT Exhibition at Photoplace Gallery

Nativity Figure, Black Friday, San Diego

Photo by Norm Halm featured in juried exhibition of photography called FINDING THE LIGHT at PhotoPlace Gallery in Middlebury Vermont from December 31, 2020 to January 21, 2021

Exhibition Catalog Available Here

Cover Photo by Susan Licht

Laura Moya, Juror

Juror's Statement

I recently geographically transitioned from the Pacific Northwest to the Southwest, and consequently have been very attuned to the differences in light. That, combined with the slow days of pandemic isolation, has given me the space and time to feel how light shifts throughout the hours and how that effects one’s psyche. It was a natural sidestep to immerse myself into the consideration of images submitted to Finding the Light (while some kind of political/cultural metaphor hovered nearby – how does one find the light in these times?). 

Illuminate (15thc) is from the Latin illūmināre, to light up; from lumen, light. The Italian language gives us illuminata, illuminare, illuminarsi, illuminazione.

Illuminate means to make lucid or clear, to make shining, to reveal details. In looking at the submissions, I was pulled into scenarios where something was being explained to me, a story was being told with the length of light waves. In the end, images that explored an unknown angle, a fleeting dimension, held my interest – light has power to turn an ordinary spot extraordinary. A great many images used light to craft an image – patience is needed for this. Or, an expert eye that can fit it into a strong composition super-quick. Thank you to the artists for doing the work and bringing so many interpretations of illumination to the table.

-Laura Moya