A brief, dreamlike moment as the incoming waters of the Gironde swirl around the wooden posts of this beautiful old fishing hut. A morning where the pastel tones seemed never ending, the lines and wires and posts appearing to fade into the sky as the sun slowly rose. A morning which has often filled my thoughts over the last year. Of all the places that I’ve been lucky enough to photograph, this is one of my absolute favorites. And just typing these words transports me back to that day- my tiny office tucked away at the top of the house is suddenly filled with the scent of wild garlic, the sun streaming through the skylight onto my book cluttered desk reminding me of how good the warm air felt against my skin. And if I close my eyes and lean back in my chair, I can still hear the gentle lap of water and the creak of timbered joints moving with the ebb and flow of the tide.
And this makes me happy. There’s an organic feel to these structures which really appeals to me – a kind of romance if you like. In a way, it’s very similar to the feeling that I have for old cars. Yes, I know they’re flawed and temperamental and liable to leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere in a puddle of fluid– but that’s kind of exciting to me. They were designed to be imperfect and therefore they’re interesting. In a world of ones and zeros with its order and sterility, places like this have a warmth and a soul which simply cannot be replicated by programs and lines of code.
Of course, I should be typing this on an old Remington, the clack of keys filling this space with a beautifully analogue staccato beat. But there’s always a balance to be had. And just like I won’t be calculating my tax return on an abacus, I accept that modern life has some very useful things to offer. Like this computer.
Embrace the imperfect and have a fabulous weekend.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ba_WoSZXvw 