Despite the high wind and lightning warnings, the two of us were heading to the sandy bluffs of Half Moon Bay with nothing but the sheerest wisp of a dress. This thunderstorm was a spectacle I was dying to shoot in and against good reasoning I convinced Anne to drive us there during high tide. It was only when we stepped out of the car and into the icy downpour did we realize what we actually signed ourselves up for. The surf was an audible roar, ferociously violent and intimidatingly magnificent in the rain and wind. And we were about to walk down to it. Lunacy.
We ran barefoot along the grassy perimeter of the bluffs searching for a path down to the ruins as the winds were threatening to hurtle us into the ocean. We ran until we made it to the sand and didn’t stop, we were running like our lives depended on it, letting our whoops mix with the thunder, feeling like two small fools who had conquered the world. Surely, only the timid were inside on a day like this, missing out on the terrifyingly beautiful forces of nature—really, only the deranged were out on a day like this. There wasn't a soul in sight but that only validated our stupid decisions, somehow making it feel sensible to want to soak ourselves to the bone during high tide and 35 mph winds (40 mph substantiates a hurricane warning).
The sheer intensity of bracing myself against the wind, feeling the sand endlessly sting my calves, searching for an invisible horizon and not understanding how the ocean could merge with the sky, being careful to turn my back on the water lest I get washed away…all of this woke me up. The blistering numbness and wild freedom of it all brought me a surge of creative energy, a sort of awakening that only happens once your senses are inflamed and overwhelmed with energy.
wearing free people