Film photography, slow travel and darkroom experiments.
Low tide, a borrowed rangefinder and a week of overcast skies. The light was flat most mornings, which turned out to be a gift: no harsh shadows, just soft grey gradients over wet sand and old piers. Two of the three rolls came out better than anything I shot this summer.
After a year of sending film to the lab I finally set up a small kitchen darkroom. A changing bag, two tanks, a thermometer and patience. The first roll was a mess of bubbles and uneven edges; the fifth looked almost professional.
Forty kilometres of abandoned track, overgrown platforms and signal boxes slowly returning to the forest. I carried one lens and one roll per day, which forced me to slow down and think about every frame.