The Cherry Blossoms Collection

The Nature & Minimalism Collection By Eric Buechel 2013

The Nature & Minimalism Collection

A Collection of 200 Images in All Four Seasons

By Eric Buechel

I embarked on this journey in 2012, marking the beginning of a long recovery from stage 4 non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. My cancer diagnosis came in November 2009, leading to 41 days in intensive care, followed by another 8 days due to a portacath infection several months later. The recovery took years, giving me ample time to reflect on my future as a single parent, an artist, and my relationship with God. People, especially my mother—who turned 100 as I wrote this blog—often remarked on the difficulty of being so ill. However, I remember very little of it; during the worst times, I was heavily medicated and slept most of the time.

I share this to provide a full picture of what it took for me to rediscover my life and the world around me. I started this series nearly two years into my recovery, with my eyes wide open to the nature surrounding me since I bought the property, over 234 acres, in 2003. I spent nearly all my free time planting hundreds of Japanese cherry trees, some fruit trees, and ornamental trees throughout the property, creating miles of paths. From fields to a mile-long road into my small world, I never truly appreciated the beauty these trees I planted. It took a few years for them to mature, but they began blooming within the first few years after planting. At the same time, I owned a coffee shop, an art gallery, and a restaurant on Main Street in Crossville, Tennessee.

I was too busy developing my environment to take a break and savor the moment. Not long after, in August 2012, I met Kathy. I had been single for five years, and dating during this time would have been tough; besides, I wanted to get on my feet, care for my son and daughter, and wander the yard picking wild dandelions for my health regimen. With that said, Kathy and I first met for a cup of coffee and began a courtship. During that time, I started taking pictures around the property and paying close attention to the Japanese cherry trees I had planted long ago. Back then, they were easy to pick up and plant, but now they're full-sized trees, some reaching twenty feet high. At this point, Kathy and I became inseparable.

On one occasion at Cummins State Park, I remember telling her I needed to cross the river, a shallow part about a foot deep, and I was searching for a way to cross. Keep in mind we were still dating, and that's when she said, "What are you waiting for? Come on." She began to walk across the river, shoes and all. That's when I knew she was the one for me—pure country and pure in heart. A little over a year later, we got married, and the artist in me began to reemerge once again. All the pictures were and still are important to me, but it's the winter shoots that I remember most. Some of those days were so cold that by the time I finished, I could hardly feel my hands and feet. This series was significant for me because it got me back into drawing at first, followed by painting in the studio when I wasn't taking pictures.

There are days, even now, when I'd like to take a day off, and I do. But I'm a bit of a workaholic, and a day spent sitting around with nothing done isn't for me. Besides, I had plenty of those days a few years ago, and now it's time to make things happen. I love this quote by the American artist Chuck Close: "Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself." So, here I am today, once again planting gardens, cutting fields and our lawn, and raising chickens with my girl from Hendersonville, Tennessee. Oh, and singing in the choir, something I never thought I'd do.

Today, I'd have to say I'm a full-fledged fine artist as opposed to an illustrator, which means I rarely do commission work unless it appeals to me. I've worked with advertising agencies only a few times in recent years. I prefer entering juried art shows, even though I still get a little nervous when the awards are given out. These events are important because, as an artist, it's crucial to be around creative people. It's all about the energy. So that's my story about this collection and what it has done for me. Now it's close to supper time, and I smell something cooking in the kitchen, which is always the best part of the day for me, except for those long walks around the property with my Tennessee gal. God bless you all, and I hope you enjoyed this little story.

The Silent Beauty of Winter

By Eric Buechel

In the deep embrace of winter's hush, when the world is wrapped in a blanket of soft, white snow, there lies a hidden beauty that often goes unnoticed by the hurried passerby. The landscape transforms into a tranquil wonderland, where every branch and leaf is adorned with a shimmering layer of frost, creating a picturesque scene that evokes a sense of peace and stillness. This serene environment, however, conceals a delicate secret beneath its glistening surface: the cherry blossoms, with their delicate and fragile nature, are nestled quietly, dreaming of the warmth that will soon return.

These blossoms, which typically burst forth in vibrant hues of pink and white during the spring, are known for their fleeting beauty and symbolize the transient nature of life. As winter envelops the trees, the cherry blossoms enter a state of serene slumber, a protective pause that allows them to withstand the harshness of the cold winds that sweep across the landscape. While they may appear dormant, they are actually engaged in a vital process of rest and preparation, drawing energy from the earth and storing it for the vibrant display that will soon follow.

As the snowflakes gently fall, each one unique and intricate, they create a soft cushion that muffles the sounds of the world, allowing for a moment of reflection and introspection. It is during this quiet time that one can almost hear the whispers of the cherry blossoms, as they dream of sunny days filled with warmth and light, when their petals will unfurl and dance in the gentle breeze. The anticipation of spring is palpable, as nature patiently awaits the moment when the first hints of warmth will coax the blossoms from their slumber.

In this winter wonderland, the contrast between the stark whiteness of the snow and the vibrant colors that will soon emerge serves as a reminder of the cyclical nature of life. The cherry blossoms, with their ephemeral beauty, embody hope and renewal, promising that even in the depths of winter, life continues to thrive beneath the surface. As the days gradually lengthen and the sun begins to warm the earth, the cherry blossoms will awaken from their peaceful slumber, ready to grace the world with their breathtaking beauty once more.

Indeed, the hidden beauty of winter is not solely in the pristine snow or the quietude it brings, but also in the anticipation of the life that lies beneath. The cherry blossoms, waiting patiently for their time to shine, remind us that every season has its purpose and that the promise of spring is always just around the corner, waiting to burst forth in a riot of color and fragrance.

Eric Buechel Fine Art

P. O. Box 277

Pleasant Hill, Tennessee 38578

931-881-7806

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