Details of Life

Please welcome first-time contributor Kendra Kantor, a 22-year-old woman from Chicago, Illinois. Kendra is a Wellness Mentor and Guide for creative women looking to embrace their self discovery and improve their mental health wellness. She is also a mother, writer and photographer who has suffered with mental health problems for most of her life. When she was 13, she started to recognize depression in herself and reached out for support. She started therapy and medication, and was eventually diagnosed with Panic Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder. She loved photography as a young teen and after a break, which included dropping out of art school and becoming a mother, she is learning to love the camera again and use it as a wellness tool.

About this photo: “I have always, mostly taken photographs of nature or “boring” subjects as my professors once called them. I like to take close ups, look at the small details of life. I like to focus inward and outward at the same time. I look for the light and the interesting shapes of an object or scene. This image is part of a set that’s a perfect example of the images I like to create. Nature is beautiful and wild and free, but gnarly and tangled. This twig, while I find it’s shape beautiful and fascinating is technically a weed that kills the attached plant.” 

Find more from Kendra at her website and blog.


**Visit Broken Light’s main gallery here. Currently accepting submissions.

*Facebook & Twitter @BrokenLighCo & @DanielleHark. Follow for e-mail notifications.

11 thoughts on “Details of Life

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      1. Thanks, but it’s the truth! Her professor had no idea what talent was within her nor did he have any idea of the art surrounding him on a daily basis.


    1. Thank you so much for your comments. I’ve struggled a lot with my professors comments and still let it hold me back almost 4 years later. And yet, it’s always the simplest photos or subjects I create that make me feel the best. ❤


  1. I love the image with its title. The professor’s comment on that boring material of nature has a familiar sound. I think of all the times we pass by something because that critical voice inside says–oh, that’s just dumb, who cares. All the moments we miss loving. This loved tendril is eloquent.


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