I turned to photography as a creative outlet soon after having my first child in 1990. I then found myself using on a daily basis the 35mm camera that I had used only occasionally for years. The subtle changes in my new daughter's appearance were fascinating to me. All of our relatives lived faraway, so I had an eager audience awaiting my efforts. I made elaborate photo albums on her behalf on a regular basis during those first years. Documenting her magical machinations gave me some relief from the grind of sleepless nights and domestic chores that comes along with the privileges and delights of being a parent. After her brother was born, I also took many pictures of him.

When my children were no longer infants, I decided to pursue photography in a more serious, deliberate manner. While I was still very busy at home, I was ready for a modicum of activity in the outside world. The company I had worked for before motherhood went bankrupt soon after my departure, and we were somehow paying our bills without my contributing to the bank account. It seemed that there was a modest window of opportunity for me, and I took advantage of it by taking several photography courses at local community colleges.

I felt that something auspicious was happening when I worked in the darkroom. Just as for many photographers, the wonder of seeing a picture emerge on a piece of paper sloshing about in an open tray of liquid chemicals in a darkened room was thrilling to me. Even now that I have some grasp of the nuances of exposure, I have a sense that the photographs I make are coming about of their own accord, that is, they come into being without much assistance from me. The pleasure of having an entire image come into place simply by pushing a button, without my actually having drawn or painted it, is very sweet. The rigor of the steps for printing, working within the guidelines for development, stopping, and fixing, also appeals to me. The quiet order of the process is somehow both noble and meditative.

The Half Moon Bay Garden series was taken at a private garden next to the Pacific Ocean in Half Moon Bay, California, a town celebrated for its balmy weather and for commercial flower nurseries. The Owen Pond, Burg Yard, and Henry Clay Estate photographs were taken in Lexington, Kentucky, where I now reside. All of these images were shot in the autumn, and the gardens, which had been left to their own devices for some time, were then in a wonderfully wild, full-blown state.

There is a certain tension in these pieces which stems in part from the way they are printed and presented. Their large size, triptych or diptych format, and subdued, narrow color range give all of them a kind of elegance, formality, and power. The heavy, textured watercolor paper surface and conspicuous photographic grain compound the abstraction that comes about with making a mirror image of patterns of leaves, grass, and flowers that is at once natural and idealized.

Before delving into photography, I worked as an architect in New York City and, later, as a project manager for real estate development companies in the San Francisco Bay area. My education includes an MBA from Stanford University's Graduate School of Business (1981), a Master of Architecture degree from Rice University (1976), a Graduate Diploma from The Architectural Association (1973), and a Bachelor of Arts degree from Smith College (1972) where I majored in economics and fine arts. Throughout all of my professional and domestic phases, as well as my student days, I have made art.

Nori Hall, 2005