What Remains in Place
The shoreline pauses where these structures begin.
Built to grant access, they fix intention at the water’s edge. Their purpose is legible, familiar, and easily understood.
Over time, something shifts.
They do not dominate the coast so much as yield to it, worn back into rhythm, bent and dulled by constant exposure. They remain intact, but no longer assertive. What was once purposeful becomes provisional.
The sea does not confront; it absorbs.
Movement passes continuously while these forms stay in place, altered but unremoved. What draws the eye is not their function, but their persistence, a stillness held within perpetual motion.
The work remains with that tension.
Not as explanation, but as a quiet disturbance, where human intention is both present and undone, and meaning settles just beyond certainty.
