Two dried stems. What you see in them is yours.
This photograph shows two dry Virginia creeper stems arranged in a diagonal composition against a neutral grey background — one lighter, one darker, their forms intertwining without quite touching. I collected them separately, but when I placed them together, something happened between them that I hadn’t planned.
I often find myself drawn to dried plants precisely because they are finished. The growing is done. What remains is pure form — the shape that time and circumstance left behind. Virginia creeper stems are particularly expressive: they curl, branch, and loop in ways that feel less botanical than gestural.
The image was created in my home studio using focus stacking — photographing the stems across multiple focal planes and combining the results into a single image with sharpness throughout. At macro distances, even f/13 yields very little depth of field, so each layer adds detail that a single frame couldn’t hold.
Some people see two figures here — dancers, perhaps, or two people mid-conversation. Others see something else entirely. I find it more interesting not to say what I see.
This print works in spaces where art is expected to prompt a second look. The grey background is warmer and less definitive than black — it places the stems in a kind of soft light that invites interpretation rather than demanding it.
EXIF data of the photograph
- Camera Model: NIKON Z 7
- Lens model: Tamron SP 90.0 mm f/2.8 Di Macro VC USD
- Date taken: 24. 1. 2026
- Exposure time: 1.00s
- F-Number: f/13.0
- ISO speed ratings: 64
- Focal length: 90mm
- Size of the photo: 8254 px x 5502 px
