Whilst I will never profess myself to be a good photographer, I am feeling more and more comfortable behind a lens lately (you just might have guessed already).
So I spent a lot of today, a day out with friends, photographing the little things that make seaside towns tick--the sea, the sand, the (clouded over) sun. The smaller details, I suppose, are where I find my interest--a sentiment that is true in front of any lens of life. I like individual words and subtle movements and isolated memories and strands--mere strands--of inspiration. I look at things less in the sum of their parts and more, so much more, at those very (individual) parts. Because in them I find detail and beauty and care--I find the intricacy of lives so often overlooked.
Today, these snapshots were a lot less profound. They were just parts of a day spent in the tackiest English town I ever did know.
But beneath the creases of that dress and the single grains of sand are the signs of a day spent relaxing. And it was rare--rare in so very many ways.