Held in Light — A Story of Poppies, Sunlight, and Slow Days in Southern Italy

There’s a particular joy that arrives with the first bloom of poppies in the countryside — those tiny bursts of red scattered across the fields like sparks of life.

They sway so effortlessly in the wind, delicate yet bold, as if they know exactly how to stand tall in their softness.

Held in Light, a cyanotype art collection

When I first saw them, I couldn’t help but stop and take them in — that wild, gentle beauty that only nature can create. They became my quiet companions while living in a small town outside Naples, Italy. Life there moved slowly, wrapped in warmth and sunlight. My neighborhood was surrounded by open fields and the gentle hum of crickets in the afternoons. Thursdays meant a trip to the local farmers’ market, where everyone greeted each other by name and baskets filled with lemons and artichokes glowed in the morning light. On other days, I’d meet friends for breakfast at the tiny coffee bar on the corner — espresso, laughter, and the scent of fresh cornetti filling the air.

It was in that rhythm of stillness and community that Held in Light was born.

Each morning, I’d wander into the nearby fields and gather fresh poppies, their petals trembling like silk. Because they’re so fragile — too delicate to be dried or pressed — I had to work quickly. I’d bring them to my home studio, where sunlight would become my collaborator. Using the cyanotype process — an old photographic method that captures shapes in deep blue — I began creating prints that preserved the fleeting silhouettes of those blooms.

There was something almost sacred about it: the quiet act of giving something ephemeral a way to last. Watching each print develop underwater felt like watching memory take form.

This collection holds that chapter of my life — the soft mornings, the hum of the town, the golden Italian light pouring through my studio windows. Each print feels like a little keepsake from that time — a blend of nostalgia, sunlight, and wildflowers that refused to be forgotten.

Held in Light is, to me, more than a collection of prints.

It’s a love letter — to impermanence, to quiet living, and to the beauty found in small, fleeting moments.

Gricignano Di Aversa, Italia