Broken Flowers

 It was just a minor misunderstanding.

©Tanya Decheva, 2020

Women love flowers, right? At least most of them. A friend of mine once said that women like dead flowers, because they want to know something died for them...I couldn't agree. But I'm so attracted to photographing these leftovers of someone's fleeting happiness. I always wonder who got these flowers, who throw them away, were they in a vase on the kitchen table, did someone's home was filled with pleasant scent. It doesn't matter, here they are on the ground, in a garbage bin, forgotten. 

©Tanya Decheva, 2020

As I wonder around the city, feeling restless, I dream of an endless garden, where flowers bloom all year around. If flowers are a symbol of love and beauty, shouldn't we nourish instead of killing them. Today my mind is floating in a strange soup of melancholy, idealistic ideas and a pinch of romance. That's what happens when you stand in the sun for too long. 

©Tanya Decheva, 2020

My interest in found objects is a strong one, it hasn't left me for more than eight years. There's something strangely divine in these coincidental compositions. Documenting them brings satisfaction, that's hard to define. It's not important to the world, there's too much going on, but in my experience it's good to keep in mind the details. Look around you, you never know what you can find.