There can be so much more to a simple photograph than is immediately obvious. The story behind this one is highly personal. It is about me, because the way these three tulips are arranged is a metaphor for my childhood.
I grew up in the shadow of my parent's true romance, a long and intense love story which had almost insurmountable obstacles right from the start. The long-stemmed flower on the left represents my father. The one on the right is my mother.
Dad was a tall, dark and very handsome man whose youthful appearance always belied his age. In this photograph, he and my mother are close, kissing tenderly. She -- as ever -- is leaving no room for me between them. I am sticking to my dad's side because my mum and I aren't hitting it off. We still don't. But nowadays I take full responsibility for seeing that her sunset years are the best she can have. She did, when all said and done, give me life. Precious, fragile, wonderful life, which I love. And she chose to do that at great risk to her own. She still introduces me to complete strangers as her "miracle baby".
I adore tulips above almost all other flowers. I see my photograph of these particular three pretty much every day, often several times a day. They hang in my home, framed, mounted and glazed, reminding me of my boyhood. They are a timeless testament to my journey through life as a photographer, both physically and spiritually.