Photography

Ullswater

Isle of Harris

Apart for my abiding love of the sea, one of the reasons I started Hydropoetic was after a writing and photography inventory of my computer systems during a back-up procedure. My main art form is poetry. I am a creative writer by trade, however, I enjoy photography and use photographic images as part of my R&D processes. During the aforementioned back-up I was interested to see how many seascapes and water images I had taken over the years. Using words to communicate is my job and my passion and visual journalling facilitates project development. Seeing all my water-based images together really was the inspiration for this web site.  Seeing my water photographs as a set was the catalyst for a huge act of re-focusing: I had an archipelago of water-based project ideas – I just hadn’t joined them together.

As well as my own amateur photography I plan to collaborate in the future with some professional visual artists. For now I am making photo-poetic pairings of some of my own imagery and words. The hybrid composting feel important to me and I will be posting more images over the next year or so.

It sounds almost too obvious to say but I love the dynamism of water, coastal and island environments. A seascape or vista can change dramatically in the blink of an eye: a challenge for an artist struggling to capture the integrity and beauty of a single moment. Living by the sea is an honour. Each day the light and clouds are so different. Walking to the gym, early morning, I see weather fronts rolling in across the North Sea from the east, huge banks of clouds falling over the waves that pull up and down the beach, so far away, so close at hand. Every day is a revelation: sunrise colouring the lighthouse on St. Mary’s Island, the straight line to Bergen’s seven hills, the sound of a high tide audible in my house, the smell of seaweed and a palate of reds and oranges as the day begins. At night during mackerel season there’s the tiny red lights at the end of rods bobbing up and down through the inky darkness. Sometimes it’s enough just to stand on the seawall and turn my face into the breeze.

 

 

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