Moving on - part three
Seas and stripes.
Hello and a Happy New Year to you all. A particularly cheery wave to all the new people who have subscribed over the festive period, during which time I have done absolutely nothing to reward your interest as I was rather busy eating, thinking, and being merry. I hope 2025 is treating you well so far.
I’m starting this year by immediately diving back into 2024. This is a continuation of my two previous posts, a somewhat self indulgent trawl through all of my unpublished work from last year to see what inspiration I can draw for the twelve months to come.
Since my last post the Brighton i360 has closed its doors, leaving a towering pile of debt to the city and huge uncertainty over the future of my little patch of Brighton seafront. They weren't particularly good neighbours, but a closed monument to failure seems worse than an open one. It’s all rather gloomy down there, and even quieter than a normal January.
However, I find myself feeling oddly optimistic. Despite the day to day upheaval and the ongoing challenge of running a small business, the South Downs and the sea remain wonderfully constant. The places where I find inspiration, comfort and motivation are always present, a pebble’s throw away from work and a bike ride away from home, and photography gives me the perfect excuse to spend as much time out there as possible.
July
Perhaps unsurprisingly, a continuation of where I left off in June. Another month spent mostly in the sea, albeit it in rather changeable weather. On a swim round the Palace Pier I was almost mown down by a tour boat, which didn’t seem particularly aware of all the people in the water. I expect it from jet-skis, but this took a lucky intervention from the lifeguard boat to wave them away from me. New fear unlocked! On a more positive note, July was also full of after school swims with the Tiny Daughters (now nearly as tall as me). We would head down to the beach in Hove around sunset just as everyone else was leaving for the day, and swim out to watch the sun go down. Weekends started on the other side of town in Saltdean, trying to get in before the crowds arrived. In between all these local dips I also managed to find time for a swim out to Beachy Head lighthouse, which I find rather eerie up close but feel compelled to keep visiting.
August
Enough of the sea, time for a new seasonal obsession. I don’t live too far from the beach, but I try to cycle there via some rather more circuitous routes whenever possible, taking in as many favourite spots on the Downs as I can. Obviously the views aren’t bad, but it’s really about keeping in touch with the landscape, noticing the little differences, and paying attention to the ever changing interplay of textures, colours and weather. Once harvest gets underway, the whole place changes day by day, and I find it captivating to watch this slightly unreal order being imposed on the land. I sometimes take a camera with me, and sometimes I’m late for work. I’ll write more on these seasonally striped fields in a future post.
September
Looking back, it seems like this was a rather quiet month. After the chaos of Brighton beach in the summer, it’s always a relief to get to this point in the year and allow myself to relax a little. I kept swimming of course, starting most days with a dip, but I left the camera at home and just enjoyed the solitude of it all. Most of my pictures from this month came from the bike rides to and from work. These feel more like quick sketches of ideas around light, colour or shape. An enjoyment of the landscape as I found it along the way rather than something more considered, but perhaps that’s something I should lean into a little more.
Thanks for reading. I’ll post a final instalment from 2024 soon, then I really should get on with something new. If you enjoy the watery nature of some of these pictures, you may also enjoy this post from September about a summer in the sea:
In keeping with the marine theme, I was writing this whilst listening to ‘Sea Souls’ by Anna Phoebe. You can have a listen here:
Your sea and stripes are wonderful, though I grieve for what were the hedges.
Awesome shots!