My 12/08/25 postcard is a spent flower head clinging to its stem, petals bleached into parchment by cold air and passing days. The leaves sag, textured and worn, yet still hanging on. Processed as a painting, it’s a reminder that beauty doesn’t vanish when the blossom is past its prime; it just changes form.
My 04/27/26 postcard is a Spanish broom bloom caught between opening and fading, its yellow…
My 04/26/26 postcard is a dried iris on Eastern Avenue, its petals curled and translucent,…
My 04/25/26 postcard comes from a small charity car show in an open lot near…
My 04/24/26 postcard comes from Bullhead Park, where a dog stands on a weathered stone…
My 04/23/26 postcard is a look inside a flower, revealing a warm space where light…
My 04/22/26 postcard features construction on Summer Ave, where the road is closed and redirected,…
