After a long day of road tripping with my friends, I arrived in Yosemite just in time to see a low sun and fluffy clouds through the sky foreshadowing a colorful sunset. We immediately left our campground to go back into the valley and got there just in time. I jumped in the calm Merced River water barefoot and rolled up my shorts awaiting the sky to light up. Soon enough, it did, and I felt a wave of calmness while creating this photo. The next day, a thick cloud cover rolled in, light rain began to pour, and a large fire was started. Yosemite Valley was closed down and though I was not happy about the fire, I was glad that I made it into the valley during my stay (2014).
I’ve been spending too much time thinking about how I’m going to become “successful” as an artist. Though the photos I’ve been recently taking captured beautiful things, they held little meaning to me and failed to provide me with that intimate connection to nature that made me fall in love with the art in the first place. I finally caught a glimpse of meaning again along the same Southern California coast I have known my entire life. After arriving to this location with my friends, I was immediately drawn to this island out of reach, and I scrambled down the rocks to chase it. As I stood on the ledge before it, I felt the contrast of the cool winter water and warm setting sunlight. I felt the light breaking through the gray clouds, energizing and highlighting everything it touched. I felt the harsh crashing waves dissipate into a refreshing mist that gently glazed my skin. I was lost in the moment. The racing anxieties and worries that can occupy my brain all vacated to the point where I was no longer thinking, just experiencing. The photo makes me reflect on where I’m at in my journey as an artist. I find myself looking ahead to the out of reach, idealized future, concerning myself with logistics, and sometimes neglecting the beauty of the present. But as I took this photo, I basked in the warmth of the present, embraced head-on the turbulent uncertainty of the future, and accepted that there was a greater plan ahead of me. Letting go of my thoughts, I was rewarded with peace and a connection to the landscape around me. I hope that I keep doing what I love rather than worrying about the how. I hope I focus more on feeling than on thinking. Title dedicated to my friend “Seagull” who introduced me to this location.
Having grown up and spent most of my life in Southern California, I have developed a fondness for the ocean. With my passion for photography growing immensely over the last four years, I was determined to walk away with a single photo that captured the beauty of my home in Orange County. This hidden little cove has shaped some of my fondest memories; I've led my closest friends through the little sea cave, I've laid a blanket next to rocks while enjoying sound of the tide, and I've swam out to the arch rock and cliff jumped into the ocean (with one such excursion leaving a scar on my foot). I had to create a unique photo here. After returning many more times with this cave composition in mind, the lighting and tide conditions finally lined up and I walked away with this permanent memory (2015).
