All images copyright by the individual photographers

	Everything Old is New Again by Sulyn Bennett-Hennessey In Everything Old is New Again, Sulyn Bennett-Hennessey captures a quiet moment of discovery–a child standing at the threshold between interior comfort and the vast world beyond the glass. The young figure, small against a towering cityscape, becomes a symbol of curiosity and possibility, suggesting a first encounter with the large city outside. The title resonates deeply as the child gazes out at buildings that carry the weight of generations, yet appear entirely new through fresh eyes. As I continued to stare at the image, I found myself wondering what the child was thinking when she woke up and saw what was outside her window.  What questions might she have about what lies before her? The ornate architectural details of the church steeple and the modern buildings intermingle, mirroring the way each generation reinterprets what came before. With the unmade bed in the foreground, the scene feels both intimate and expansive, inviting us to remember our own moments of wonder. The image succeeds not only in its composition, but in its emotional pull–reminding us that the world is forever being rediscovered, and that what is old can feel entirely new again when seen through the eyes of a child. Congratulations, Sulyn! By Marie Costanza
	Sundown by Amy Palermo The photograph Sundown by Amy Palermo is quietly arresting. Its restrained visual language invites slow looking and rewards it with a cascade of formal and emotional details that linger after the image is set down. The curve is the photograph’s organizing gesture. The drooping sunflower creates a graceful arc that guides the eye from the stem through the bowed head to the curled petals. Secondary paths form as the scattered petals on the surface redirect attention to the transparent vase and then back up along the stem, creating a continuous loop of attention. Balance and negative space are handled with subtlety. The asymmetry of the wilted bloom against open space gives the image breathing room while the vase anchors the composition. The result is a visual rhythm that feels inevitable rather than contrived. Choosing black and white sharpens the photograph’s formal strengths. Tonal contrast emphasizes texture and structure so the brittle edges of the petals, the fibrous stem, and the glass’s reflections become primary subjects. Without color, the viewer notices value relationships and surface detail that might otherwise be lost to the sunflower’s natural hues. The monochrome palette also heightens mood. It converts a still life into an elegy by stripping away the distraction of color and focusing attention on light, shadow, and the materiality of decay. The image reads as a meditation on impermanence and the beauty of endings. Viewers may see various themes about time, loss, and the domestic rituals that mark life’s cycles. The droop of the sunflower suggests resignation rather than violence, inviting interpretations of acceptance, memory, and the dignity of natural decline. At the same time the scattered petals can read as traces of past vitality, a gentle reminder that beauty persists even as form changes. Sundown succeeds because its formal choices and tonal restraint work together to make a simple subject feel profound. The composition’s circular flow, the decisive use of black and white, and the careful handling of light and texture combine to create an image that is both visually coherent and emotionally resonant. By Steve Levinson