visual diary #002

scenes from The Memory of Water

When the time comes, he says, sink to the bottom of the ocean,
press your belly against the floor, then listen for the tide.

It’s been a difficult week, personally and globally - words have simply eluded me (beyond stuttered notes on scraps of paper) so I thought I’d post some companion images to last week’s post: The Memory of Water.

I find that wandering through the womb-like corridors and the tunnels of water at Sea Life is so regulating for the nervous system. Yes, it might be a tourist trap and the current might be artificial, and there might be deep scratches on the winding concave tunnels from years of people brushing up against them. But, just being amongst it is a primal reminder of human nature—predatorial, tenacious, dwarfing, shimmering, carefree and dormant, all existing in this same created ecosystem.

Surrended. Suspended.

There’s something disorienting and surreal about monochrome underwater photography - without blue, the images lack context and you’re just left with submerged light floating in the depths which take on an eerie quality. I didn’t want to overthink it - I usually shoot what draws my eye, and look for contrasted tones (for black/white editing) and opportunities to slow my shutter without it looking trite or forced.

You can read The Memory of Water here.

The world is a lot right now for creatives (Jen Louden’s post: This is Your Body on Existential Stress is worth a read). Take care of yourselves.

More words soon. x