A love letter to the ocean.

After reading yet another tale of shipwrecks and peril on the ocean (In the Heart of the Sea by Nathaniel Philbrick) not only was I feeling inspired and so ready for my New England summer with weddings by the sea; I paused to reflect on why it is that my heart is always drawn to lighthouses and the ocean and wooden ships.

What I came to realize is that the ocean cradles my soul in comfort. It is as if I was designed to always be near it. To smell the salty breeze and watch light flicker and dance on it's waves. To know that it is vast and touches the shores of other countries. I remember when the love of my life was in England and while I waited for him and I to finally be together, I dipped my toes in the Atlantic and closed me eyes; thinking perhaps I would be able to physically send him my love through the tides. Maybe it would reach his shores.

(Even as an awkard hot topic tween, the ocean was calling)

The sea is my history. It is a part of my DNA. My great grandfather came from the Azores on the SS Republic to start his new life in America; I learned today that same ship wrecked, two years later off the coast of Nantucket. My Irish ancestors came over the seas on grueling and disease ridden voyages on famine ships. My ancestors before them, John Howland himself, fell off the Mayflower, got pulled back in, had eight children with Elizabeth Tilly and thus- I exist. The entirety of my existence appears to have been at the mercy of the unforgiving and temperamental seas.

As someone who is currently landlocked for a few more years, it is really hard to explain the feeling of being in a massive and expansive place filled with looming mountains and endless plains yet feeling suffocated. I feel like a mermaid out of water, caught up in a lobsterman's net and determined to be tossed back into my home. While ironically enough, I am a horrible swimmer and would probably drown.

What does any of this have to do with being a photographer? It has everything to do with it. Knowing what inspires you determines what you create. My mind is a constant clutter of ideas and art that I want to create and most of these ideas tend to lead me directly to a seaside. A beach, a cliff, a lighthouse, a rickety cottage with hydrangeas blooming out front. Why is that so? Is it the only way I can truly express myself authentically without being crass? Is it because I long for that comfort and can happily create and be inspired only with gulls screeching above me?

Just because I am always so far from the ocean does not mean it is far from my mind. I'm wearing a flappy Nantucket hat as I write this with some lighthouse socks. When I am photographing in Colorado, I bring in the old fisherman aesthetic to the architecture of the rocks and the whimsy of the ocean to the mountains for my couples. It is a beautiful thing to fly to the coast, bring back my little seashells and bottles of maple syrup for the kids and can almost feel the magic in my blood as I shoot here renewed. Like the old salts before me, the manliest of men who braved the ocean and left their wives and children behind to provide for home, I won't stop exploring this career and this life and every coastline I can before it's my time to go.

Inquiries: thistleandpinephoto@gmail.com

Photo Locations: RI, Cornwall, Inishmore, Salem Harbour, Portland Head Light House