From presidents to poets and painters, a garden’s inherent value draws wide acknowledgement. Abraham Lincoln, our 16th President, could overlook a garden’s down side by simply declaring of his roses: “We can complain because our rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”

“My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece” said French Impressionist Claude Monet. If you’ve seen Monet’s masterful water lilies stretching across the expansive walls of a museum you may wonder what could possibly compare with his exploration of that level of beauty and atmosphere. What did compare, and grandly so, was his real garden, or shall we say his real gardens. He had two, one called Clos Normand in front of his house, and the other, a Japanese-inspired water garden.

Disdaining organized or constrained gardens and actually marrying flowers according to their colors, Monet just let his flowers grow freely. But he meticulously planned and controlled too, for the sake of his sustained artistic vision.

It is said that never “before had a painter shaped his subjects in nature before painting them,” essentially creating his works twice. As the years went by the French impressionist concentrated and was inspired more by his water garden dedicating “himself less to flowers than to reflections in water, a kind of inverted world transfigured by the liquid element.”

Walt Whitman found the solace and beauty he needed in the nearness of a garden, especially one with flowers. “Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers,” he said, “where I can walk undisturbed.”

Mary Oliver, the renowned poet is brief and assured in her advice to us, never really mentioning a garden here, but emphasizing what many may feel a good garden demands. In “Instructions for living a life,” she writes. “Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

When we “tell about it,” as I’ve done with my photography over the years, and as fellow MIVAL members do with captivating works in ceramics, oil and acrylic painting, watercolors, jewelry, sculpture, print making, and more, we are yielding to that “telling.”

And while it’s true that those lovely flowers you gave to a loved one recently – perhaps a lovely bouquet from your own garden – will not last forever, remember what Mexican painter Frida Kahlo said about them: “I paint flowers so they will not die.” Some of us simply want to capture the stunning beauty of nature and hold it in our art forms.

As the featured artist for the month of May at the MIVAL Gallery, I will show approximately 15 fine art photographs of garden images, from places like the Seattle Japanese Garden, the Kew Garden in London, the Luxembourg Garden in Paris, and even the pea patch above the Mercer Island Community Center. Our opening reception for the MIVAL show is 5–8 p.m. on May 4. Please stop by the MIVAL gallery and enjoy this interesting show. We’ll look forward to your visit!

May Sartan, American poet and memoirist brings things home for us when she declares: “Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that gets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.”

Omar Chapa, a retired human resources consultant and an adjunct professor of Spanish, has exhibited photographs at Bellevue Faculty art shows, A.B.’s Gallery in Pioneer Square, the Richmond Art Museum in California, the Mercer Island Arts Council and various businesses and art venues in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. His “Garden of Eden” collection of fine art photographs, which will be shown at the MIVAL Gallery next month, features images of gardens from around the world.

The MIVAL Gallery, open from noon to 6 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday, is located at 2836 78th. Ave SE in Mercer Island. For more, call 206-619-6276, email gallery@mival.org or visit www.mival.org.

Wisteria at the Seattle Japanese Garden, photographed by Omar Chapa. Chapa’s work will be featured in the MIVAL Gallery next month. Photo courtesy of Omar Chapa

Bee on cosmos at the Mercer Island pea patch. Photo courtesy of Omar Chapa