sheâs a dancing queen
pink petals rock to the beat
twirling into blur
It was a flower.
I smiled.
The negative dated back to 2005. I started thinking about the cameraâwhat had I used? Back then I was living in the Miami area, working with both the Ebony and the Arca Swiss 4Ă5 systems. Since it was a close-up, it was likely the Arca Swiss⊠but it could have been either. At this point, it doesnât matter.
What struck me wasnât the cameraâit was the subject.
Flowers.
Over the years, grocery store flowers in particular have played a quiet but significant role in my photographic education. Not just in the classroom, but in my everyday life. Theyâve always been thereâavailable, inexpensive, and endlessly patient.
That moment brought me back to a familiar question: how does someone actually become good at photography?
The teacher in me gives the obvious answerâyou shoot, and then you shoot some more.
But along the way, I learned something just as important: you learn to see.
And that kind of seeing doesnât come from chasing subjects or buying new gear. It comes from returning to something simple, over and over again, until it begins to reveal itself. The practice of shooting and re-shooting happens almost without noticing.
Pick something you enjoy having around and use it often.
For me, itâs flowers.
When I test new gearâitâs flowers.
When I explore lightâitâs flowers.
Every now and then Iâll pull out my box of seashells. I used to live about thirty minutes from Key Largo and would wander the shell shops for still life pieces. These days, itâs Trader Joeâs or Publix for flowers.
Today, while grocery shopping, I picked up a bundle of giant mums for my 4Ă5 black-and-white hand-coloring project.
Theyâre beautiful, and Iâm looking forward to photographing them.
Click a flower to enlarge it and see what camera system was used.
Everyday Objects as Teachers
We often think photography requires something âout thereââa location, an event, a moment worth chasing.
But some of the most meaningful learning happens much closer to home.
A bouquet of flowers.
A box of buttons from my grandmotherâs sewing kit.
A collection of antique wind-up toys.
These arenât just subjectsâtheyâre opportunities.
They donât ask anything of us. They simply wait, patiently, to be noticed.
And in that stillness, they offer something invaluable:
the chance to practice.
Why This Works
Thereâs a quiet strengthâand a certain common senseâin returning to the same subject again and again.
It removes pressure.
It creates familiarity.
And most importantly, it allows us to see changeânot in the subject, but in our photography.
With something as simple as grocery store flowers, I can:
- Work at my own pace
- Explore different lighting setups
- Try different lenses and formats
- Experiment without consequence
- Refine my post-processing
Thereâs no expectation to âget it right.â
Just the act of looking, adjusting, and learning.
And thatâs where growth happens.
And somewhere along the way, without much notice, a body of work begins to emerge.
Click a flower to enlarge it and see what camera system was used.
My Constant: Grocery Store Flowers
Over the years, Iâve photographed flowers with every camera system I own.
4Ă5 cameras.
Medium format film.
Digital systems.
Sometimes carefully lit in the studio.
Oftentimes with window light alone.
Each time, they offered something to notice.
A petal catching light thatâs hard not to notice.
A shadow falling just slightly softer.
A personality of color.
They became more than practiceâthey became familiar, yet new at the same time.
I stop thinking about what I am photographing and focus on how I am seeing the flowerâs beauty.
What They Taught Me
These small, ordinary bouquets taught me things no piece of gear ever could.
They taught me to see lightâhow it behavesâbefore subject.
To notice edges, transitions, and subtle changes in tone.
To understand how form is shapedânot by the objectâbut by the light around it.
They taught me patience.
And maybe most importantly, they reminded me that beauty doesnât need to be rare or extraordinary to be worth noticing.
Sometimes itâs sitting in a grocery store bucket, waiting to be brought home.
Finding Your Own âConstantâ
It doesnât have to be flowers.
It might be something you already have:
- Objects on your table
- Things collected over time
- Items that simply catch your eye for reasons you canât quite explain
The subject itself isnât the point.
The point is having something you can return to.
Something that becomes familiar enough that you stop seeing it as an objectâand begin seeing it as a way to understand light, composition, and your own process.
Click a flower to enlarge it and see what camera system was used.
A Quiet Practice
Photography doesnât always have to be about going somewhere.
Sometimes itâs about staying.
Staying with a subject.
Staying with a moment.
Staying long enough to notice what you missed the first time.
For me, grocery store flowers became that place.
A quiet, ongoing practiceâalways there, always waiting, always willing to teach.
Flowers have played a large part in how I learned photography.
And just like the devoted type I am, I have no intention of ever giving them up.