The ocean is an undeniable force - one that the great writers of our time could describe in magnificent detail. Let’s take a moment to imagine how eloquent their words about it might be… Got it? Great! Whatever romanticized notion of it that popped into your head will do just fine to set the mood. This is ostensibly a photography newsletter after all.
The following photographs are the 10 sequential frames from my final roll of film of 2024.
I first became infatuated with the New Hampshire seacoast when I moved to Portsmouth in 2011. For years, its rocky inlets, abandoned forts, and quirky seaside strips guided much of my outdoor explorations and served as a major inspiration for my photographs and songwriting until a new job whisked me away to Boston. Suddenly the ocean wasn’t in my own backyard. It wasn’t out of reach, but it was out of the way enough for my connection with it to fade, and I missed it dearly.
My wife and I moved back to the area in 2019, and I’m grateful to live a short drive from the water again. I prefer it in the offseason when the roads to it are nearly empty, and the wait time for a slice of beach pizza is the 60 seconds it takes them to melt a slice of provolone onto a pre-cooked square and slide it onto a paper plate. It still has a literal pull on me, and we walk the beaches a couple times a week throughout the winter. There’s a soul-cleansing quality to it, even when just wading through its frigid tides in rain boots and basking in the vastness of the sky above it.
Earlier last month, I made a trip to Salisbury Beach just over the Massachusetts border and took my time exploring the dormant façades of arcades and snack shacks. I loaded up my Mamiya RZ67 with an expired roll of Fujifilm Velvia 50, a sought after slide film stock that has faced production issues for several years. Some suspect it is quietly being phased out while the company favors more lucrative pursuits. Consequently, I have been plagued with the ridiculous impulse to hoard my last few rolls of it for eternity. As a compromise to myself, I worked through this one slowly and set out to make the most of every frame on the precious emulsion.
After scouring the main drag, I found a composition I liked and framed it up standing awkwardly on the street, waiting for the upper right corner of the frame to fill in with either an interesting cloud or some seagulls. I eyed one in particular (the one perched on top of the orange roof) with the severity that it eyed the plates of food emanating from the walk-up window below.
This brief period of intense focus reminded me why I do this whole film photography thing. The world outside of that moment melted away as I stood with one eye trained on the waist-level viewfinder, taking breaks to wipe away tears that the whipping wind coaxed out of me. Knowing there were only a few shots left on the roll brought me even deeper into it. Working with a medium that has an inherent limitation enables one to drop into varying meditative states like this, and all you have to bring to it is a patient curiosity. If you’re lucky, it can induce these transcendent connections with the immediate environment that hit like a good shot of espresso - something that fellow photographer Chris Vigue describes as “magic moments” in this recent interview.
After nearly 30 minutes, that seagull finally moved, so I made a second exposure. I’m still not sure which one I like best, but I like having both.
Anyway, that’s what I set out to do on a random day in December.
And so I wish you, dear reader, a truly happy (and belated) start to the New Year. It almost feels like I’m supposed to leave you with some nugget of wisdom gleaned from another year of attempting to live a modest yet purposeful life, but I’ve got nothing. Just be kind to yourself, partake in the revolutionary act of taking long meandering walks, and maybe bring a camera with you.
Recently Featured Works & Shameless Plugs:
My wife Emily just launched a podcast with her friend Marissa, and it’s all about how to address the doom and gloom of the present moment in a constructive, community-driven way. I had a small part in helping with the production, but I truly think it’s great! Check out the first episode here:
Oh, and hey look! A little guide to help prevent Meta from monetizing your data!
Sounds From the Studio:
Archive Dive (a random photograph picked via number generator):