I've been hankering for a little sea air for a while now, so on saturday I gave myself the space to stretch my legs and breathe in some salt and to think in a place where the wind could blow away my thoughts and the cold could cut through my densest reasoning.
I took the train to Cromer and walked, with the sea to my side, to Sheringham. For some reason I generally go from Sheringham to Cromer, cutting inland at West Runton, when I walk this stretch of coast. Funny how easy it is to get fixed in a habit. So for a small change I did it in reverse, which of course meant that I saw things differently, which maybe also allowed me an alternative view into my self too.
I've been wondering who I am of late. A beach walk with photographs to prove my existence in a time and place perhaps offers me something more substantial than my ongoing life which feels insecure. Maybe it is the lack of witness that makes it feel that way.
I know that doubt and uncertainty are often creative fields to plough but with the sense of possibility comes also fear, fear of the unknown, fear of change and fear of making a mistake. I'm a bit prone to fear. It is a feeling that I battle in situations that don't require fear at all. Battling with that level of anxiety is quite disabling.
I'm not quite sure why that has come up whilst writing this blog post, which is nominally about a walk on a beach, but I think maybe it is pertinent to my being, my work, my integrity, and who I am, so I'll leave it in and make a casual assumption that blogs are alot like diaries and not read by many people other than the writer.
This photo is my favourite from my walk. It is looking back at Cromer pier from some distance and I like the reflections of the sky and cliffs on the wet sand.