In the calmest sea, in the stillest waters, there is always movement. This series of photographs illustrates this by presenting the viewer with a fixed record of the fleeting forms of light and water — capturing the transient and elusive nature of both sea and moon from a constant point.

The moon, acting as both light source and active protagonist, controlling as it does the ebb and flow of the tide, is seen against the sea’s canvas. The image becomes fractured against this moving backdrop and the resulting fragments, these splinters of light, combine to provide a record of a particular moment in time, as individual and unrepeatable as a fingerprint. The resulting reflection is almost painterly and yet has a granular quality — like an ultrasound scan of the ocean, as if nature has been broken down into its component parts and then crudely reconstructed by the camera for the viewer. This in turn, creates an interesting tension, the abstraction of a scene that contains so much that is familiar is made to seem distant, creating a push-pull response that itself echoes the tides of the sea.

However, these pictures also raise questions of causality and assumption, for although it seems almost irresistible to assume that the sea is the author of these patterns, twisting the lunar light into new shapes, it is of course the moon that is the catalyst for movement — calm and stoic behind the scenes.