These digital artworks are part of a large body of work I’ve been creating over the past 20 years, using technology as my medium. In my digital studio I use a large professional scanner to capture flowers when I’m not using my camera. The scanner creates a drama that is different from what I capture in photography. I surround the setup with umbrella lighting to soften the scanner’s bold shadows.

Once the setup is ready, I bring in a flower cut from my own garden. I have to work quickly, since most flowers begin to droop soon after they are cut. I place the stem into a small vise with alligator clips and hover the live flower just above the glass, never touching it. Once I am satisfied with the angle and lighting, I capture the flower as a high-resolution file several gigabytes in size, which lets me print each work at whatever size a collector or a space requires. It’s not unusual to see an ant, having just walked off the flower, marching across the scanner while I work.

In Photoshop, I clean away the pollen that fell onto the glass and repair insect damage, dirt, and other imperfections on the petals. Nature isn’t as much of a perfectionist as I am, so I center each flower and rearrange its petals to make it symmetrical, often taking a petal from one area and placing it in another. With my Wacom tablet and stylus, I paint shadows where I want them and remove them where I don’t. I use masks extensively to hide and reveal areas until the artwork is complete. The finished images are printed on canvas, metal or fine art paper.

Working this closely with my flowers is profound, and centering each one on the screen is also a way of centering myself. I spend enormous amounts of time zooming in on their intricate architecture on my large monitor. Their diversity is as great as that found in human beings. No two flowers are the same, even on the same plant. They may be family, like brothers and sisters or cousins, but each one is an individual. These flowers tell stories of survival and evolution. They are here because of the community they belong to: the soil, air, water, and the birds and the bees, each contributing in its own way to the miracle of survival. A healthy garden teaches us balance and opens up conversations about reliance and cooperation. These flowers are totems that remind us of the cycle of life and the harmony that is possible, all wrapped up in the beautiful gift of a flower.