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Once upon a time, there was a little girl who loved to read. Her parents, devoted readers themselves, were pleased to provide her with untold numbers of books filled with fairy tales, and she read them until she had memorized every one.

But these weren’t Disney stories with pastel-colored rabbits, these were tales from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. Fairy tales that ended with good vindicated and evil dancing to its death in red-hot iron shoes, with good marrying the handsome prince and evil’s eyes plucked out by righteous doves.

In all of these tales, deep dark forests abounded. They surrounded castles and sheltered mysteries, they protected with thorns and sprung up to the whisper of a magic spell. They hid monstrous creatures and led wanderers astray, echoed with mysterious cries and were filled by the light of a rising moon.

When that little girl grew up, she picked up her camera… and went back into the forest.

All images shot with Diana cameras. Photos 1 and 2, Scotland; photo 3, Central Park, NYC; photo 4, Virginia; photo 5, Australia; photos 6, 7, 8, Central Park, NYC.

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