On a June morning in London, I left my hotel on Half Moon Street and wandered through Green Park toward St. James’s Park, one of the city’s quietest gems. There, tucked along the footpaths near the lake, a bed of tulips stopped me in my tracks.
They weren’t arranged for subtlety—this was a riot of color. Vivid reds, yellows, oranges, and magentas jostled for attention in the soft summer light. One tulip in particular rose above the rest—an overachiever framed against shadow, reaching into space like a soloist stepping forward from the chorus.
Nature’s Composition, Framed by the City
The stems leaned gently toward the light, animated by something almost human in their angles. I saw Jay Maisel’s triumvirate at work: light, color, gesture. It wasn’t meant to be conceptual. It was simply beautiful—ephemeral, luminous, alive. Sometimes a photograph doesn’t ask a question. It simply offers something to rest your eyes on and let the world slow down.
Available in a Limited Edition of 25, with 2 Artist Proofs
