What makes realistic botanical illustration feel both exhilarating and intimidating? Is it the pressure to achieve scientific accuracy, or the challenge of truly seeing a plant beyond its surface? Can precision be something other than perfection—perhaps a form of attentive care, built slowly through observation and patience? What if realism isn't about copying exactly what I see, but about translating my understanding of a plant's structure, texture, and rhythm into visual form? Could this process, however meticulous, be a way of deepening my relationship with the subject—like learning to speak its language? And might the real beauty of botanical illustration lie not in how exact it is, but in how mindfully and personally it is seen and rendered?
Zoe this is written so beautifully. I think you do translate your understanding and your relationship to the subject in your art. You have a beautiful mastery of line and color.