I passed this small garden on an ordinary walk, but color felt a little too loud that day. So I leaned into monochrome—letting light, shadow, and texture do the talking. This set is my little study of how tropical plants turn sculptural once the distraction of color is gone.
The first frame is a spider lily that looks like calligraphy in the wind—ribbons looping, crossing, almost tying themselves into knots. I moved in close to fill the view and let the shadows weave between the strands, so the petals read like ink strokes on paper.
The middle images are young heliconia blooms. From different angles they felt like hands, opening and reaching. I played with the negative space and kept the background deep, lifting the highlights just enough and pulling down the blacks to carve out the form. I love when a simple shift in tones adds weight and a little theater to something we pass by every day.
The last frame lands softly on leaves—veins, speckles, and that satin surface you can almost feel. Here, the light was kinder, so I kept the contrast firm but resisted the urge to over-polish. I wanted the texture to stay honest, a quiet ending after the swirl of the lily and the gestures of the heliconia.
Lately I’ve been enjoying seeing how far I can push in-camera light and subtle edits to reveal shape and mood. Black and white keeps reminding me that when you strip things back, the story gets clearer.
”To see in color is a delight for the eye, but to see in black and white is delight for the soul.”
~ Andri Cauldwell
Thank you for viewing my post.
Cheers!
@funtraveller
All original images by author