Cinnamomum camphora
From the roots of the fallen camphor tree grows another, and another. Camphor Rebirth honors the massive old camphor tree that towered over the backyard of my house for more years than I can imagine. It was cut down abruptly in 2020, to the dismay of my neighbors and me. Its absence left us all feeling disconnected in an already uncertain and ungrounded year. I lived with the camphor for 19 years. It became the fourth wall of my studio ~ its deep shade allowed for long exposures; its evergreen leaves and late-spring blooms were the subjects of countless lumen prints; the wildlife that made their home in its branches became photographs.
Camphors sprout from their roots, so while the oldest tree is no more, it still lives on. “Camphor Junior” now shades a small part of the backyard. Printed in the shadow of the moon during the annular solar eclipse in 2023, these leaves symbolize what it means to be rooted, grounded, and connected within the resolute source from which we grow.
_2016-04-06-15-57-30.jpg "New Orleans artist Andy Levin")
