Family trips, camping—stories built on unending stretches of road, mornings too damp and ravenous, back pains...all soon forgotten, replaced by perfect memories of trails and mountains tops.
We’ll have some twenty hours of highway dust in our lungs when all is said and done.
Dust and an eyeful of whales and bears;
of seals, penguins and porcupines.
Shot with the X100F
It can feel like falling into the scene, all of it jumbled and erratic—the movement, the colours, the shapes. The constant change in pace and light, the flow of it. Life as accident and sharp angles, borne of bright and dark rhythms I barely understand.
There’s no time.
Just a need and desire to paint it all away.