Sunday dinner on the deck under the parachute sail; air feels like the sticky-warm-whisper of a summer lover; the light is lasting and quiet. Before joining them to eat – I look at each of their amazing faces – my stunning, laughing, salt and pepper passing, bright-eyed and healthy kids. Never mind the food. This is what nourishes my soul.
a request, please ~
All art, photographs and writing on this site are © martha lee phelps, unless otherwise credited. Please do not reproduce or borrow original materials from this site without permission.
-
Join 332 other subscribers
care to explore?
studio archives
familiar themes…