Creation

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creature whisperer

As a toddler, my sister caught moths mid-flight with her fingers, cried about fictional stories with dying dogs, and played with ants in the parking lot. On the other hand, I had a cat allergy, fear of horse riding, and I ran from my friend's dogs in circles around her front yard. I recall a memory from 1st grade when my BFF begged me to hold her guinea pig. I still wonder why she stayed friends with me after I dropped it. Now, 20 years old at university, I act like I'm on parole for my crimes. I stare at trees when I walk, smile at birds, and redirect earthworm traffic off the sidewalk. Nature is a reminder of my connection with something mysterious, something wondrous. But without my sister, I doubt I would have grown to treat nature as such.

Note: the following sections feature photos of insects and other creatures, including moths and spiders.

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Through nature's eyes

Ara was born five years after me, and though I prayed for a little sister every day, she was sent here for all creatures great and small. She became the biologist of my family, and I loved capturing her moments of discovery. Because of her insect hobby, I started bringing dead things inside and taking more animal photos. Even now, her love for the outdoors seeps into my creative thinking. I think of the soul and butterflies or paintbrushes and eyelash-thin millipede legs. I associate drowsiness with hawk moths and forgiveness with hamsters. My sister's connection to nature connects me to a long-overdue childlike awe. It reveals a side of nature that I overlooked before she was born.

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A bony backstory

I feature four skeleton photos in Born Read-y, each representing an observation from my creative life. These are photos of animal bones taken from my sister's collection of dead things. The bones are tiny, some nearly as long as my thumbnail. My sister curates her collection carefully and respectfully—a tribute to nature—recovering beauty from the harshness of death.

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In the middle of it all

In a world of creature photography, the small becomes significant, and all the little things matter. To zoom out is to see how everything is connected and remember your relationship to other creatures or people of this world.One day, Ara hatched a moth and named it Oak. We took this photo, realizing later how little space Oak occupied in the composition. When the future gets larger than life, my sister's collection reminds me, "In the middle of it all, remember your place."

Notebook

I'm collecting treasures of my own for the future. In the red notebook, leave your artist, music, and reading recommendations for me and others. Feel free to flip the pages and see if your curiosity connects you with another person.

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