Braids of Kelp

Life lately has been entwined with letting go, grabbing on to and braiding again strands of attachment. Relocating is fundamentally a series of concrete steps but I'm still not used to the emotional segmentation that accompanies it. After finally submitting my thesis at the beginning of June, I had only a week planned in Stockholm to say goodbye to a place and to very dear people with whom I'd formed close bonds for the better part of three years. I felt like an asshole. Then I returned home for two weeks after nearly a year away, and finally I moved to Tofino on the west coast of Vancouver Island, with no connections or notions of anything.

Those of you who've followed this chronicle for a while are used to me describing feelings with candid hyperbole: my last eight months in Sweden stuck facing white pages left me questioning what I want out of life and if there's any point in connecting with people around me if I'm not sure of who I want to be myself. I'm known to go on diatribes about others being flaky but I definitely recognize similar traits when I look in the mirror.

Some of the people who inspire me the most are those who experience and engage reality by creating. Reflection doesn't satiate them, they have a deep need to turn their ideas into representations that mark their time alive. I believe that these continuous expressions come from decisiveness and integrity of thought. There were days chasing my deadline in May when these felt more at reach than ever before. I discovered that messy daily efforts and entrainment (as opposed to beautifully formulated goals and lightning rod epiphanies) actually are the only way to develop the kind of focused vision that supports cumulative creativity.

Now I'm here on the edge of my continent, in a small town surrounded by ocean and primary forest, with a good service job and a surf board, to focus on my core again. I have an obligation to myself and to all the people who helped me, to publish the findings of my research and connect with those who concern themselves with similar questions. I'm looking for long-term work and wish to develop my first concrete photojournalistic project. My summer wetsuit almost keeps me warm enough in these frigid waters to ride down the line. Expect landscapes until I get to know my neighbours better.