In a city a sea away from home, I hold a stone I found along my shore.
It’s sharpness soothed by the incessant sway of the waves,
the stone is cool and soft in the crescents of my skin.
Inside it holds the promise of an untouched paradise,
a home so distant in time,
it exists to no one but myself.
In the rushed movements of the city, this stone is
a relic of my belonging.
This series of cyanotypes is a reflection of the west of Ireland, where the ocean meets the shore. The process follows the same laboured slow movement as the waves that melt into the coastline. Algaes are collected from piles formed on the rocky and sandy beaches along the Atlantic, as well as bird feathers and leaves scattered amongst them. It incorporates nature’s basic physical elements as well as photography’s slow, pure and ephemeral origins of alternative processes. With a few simple chemicals and the rare appearance of the sun, the sea emerges and leaves its mark on the page.