When we look at something without color, we notice things we would have missed.
Lines. Shapes. Shadows. The quiet details that hold everything together.
Color adds emotion, but black and white adds clarity. It removes distraction. It shows us what stays when everything else is stripped away.
A flower in black and white is still a flower, but it becomes something else too.
More symbolic.
More internal.
Almost like a thought taking shape.
What we see becomes less about the petals and more about meaning.
Sometimes absence reveals what presence hides.
Maybe that’s why a black rose doesn’t feel like loss to me. It feels like a beginning.
A reminder that change often starts in places we don’t expect, in the shadows, in the quiet, in the parts of life we usually overlook