This photograph of the Black-Anthered Flax-Lily has had a few different lives. I took the photograph in our bushland in the last light of a dull day. It was windy, and I was reflective because the next day I was scheduled for surgery. That’s why it took me a long time to discover it. When I did, I loved the movement of the stems and the stillness of the flower.

Photograph and Monoprint

Initially I had ‘Black-Anthered Flax-Lily’ printed on canvas for an exhibition. This was the first time I had a solo exhibition at Radmac, a local art and office supplies shop, with a gallery space for hire. It sold.

Some years later I used a print of it on a gel plate to create a monoprint in postcard size. This was part of a fundraiser for the community group GP Arts Inc. This sold as well.

Even now I look at it and envisage it in several different forms.

Metaphor

In an earlier post, I wrote about photographs which lend themselves to metaphor. ‘Black-Anthered Flax-Lily‘ does hold the memory of my first breast cancer diagnosis, and subsequent surgery. The stillness in the flower at the centre is me. Calm. The movement in the stems surrounding the flower is the busyness and worry of those around me. The fuss and preparation required for my admission. For my diagnosis, and fears for the future.

I think this is why it still holds such meaning for me. It’s impossible to do 100 Days of Art without including it. Perhaps I will bring it back as a gift card, for others to pass on messages of love and care.