The 100 Day Project #1

Wave Longing

Venice Beach, California, USA, 2009

Today marks the launch of the 100 Day Project — a global creative challenge where thousands of artists share a piece of their practice every single day for 100 days. I'm joining creatives around the world in this challenge, and I'm excited to bring you along.

Each day I'll be sharing one of my photos — some recent, some old, and some from my current project — along with the story behind it. I'll give you a glimpse into where I was, who I was with, and why I love it.

I'm starting off this project with a photo that I look at every single day: Wave Longing.

A large giclée print of this image is framed and hangs in our bedroom. It's often the first and last thing I see every day, and I never get tired of it. Every day I see something different — a different person suspended in their own unique moment while surrounded by others. I think this is one of the earliest photos I made that captured the quietude I've become so enamored with and continue to seek out in my travels. This image marked the beginning of a shift in my photographic style, moving away from straight journalism and documentary work and toward a more freeform method of expression that continues today.

I made this photo in June 2009 at Venice Beach on a girls trip to Los Angeles with Lisa and Mel. We were all living in Tucson, Arizona, where we'd connected over a deep love of live music. We took a road trip to see a show — and I honestly cannot tell you which show it was, but I can absolutely tell you how hard we laughed at the way Lisa's Garmin pronounced Spanish words like Sepulveda Blvd. We three were a pretty tight group back then. Their friendship helped me heal from a significant trauma I was working through when we met. They helped me find my footing again and through our evenings out on the town to hear local and traveling ands, their friendship eventually helped me meet the man who is now my husband.

Time and life have carried us into separate chapters, yet this photo has stayed with me all these years — as has my love for each of them. And every morning when I look up at this print from our bed and find a new face in the crowd, I'm reminded that the best images hold more than a moment. They hold everything — the people, sounds, and emotions —that surrounded me when I captured it. Wonderful, isn’t it?