Lying in rockweed
Compass Harbour, Maine
August, September 2023

During the making of Road Line, I would, whenever possible, go to the shore, cover myself in rockweed and disappear. I would look at the sky through a lattice-work of rockweed that covered my face, listen to it crackle, be nibbled at by crabs, breathing heavily after the exertion of pulling rockweed over me. As the tide rose my breathing subsidised – the cold-water ebbing and flowing, in and out, as if taking over from where my breathing had left off. My body gently lifted by the sea until I began to float – carried back and forth by the tide.