The tide below is running. It covers the index twice a minute and uncovers it changed — wet type dries slowly. Walk your cursor on the sand; the sea will deal with your footprints.
Most portfolios are filing cabinets. Mine is a foreshore: everything I have made is written in the sand, and twice a minute the sea revises it. Works that have just surfaced read dark and dripping; give them a moment and they dry back to ink.
This is not a metaphor I chose. It is the actual contract of the studio — I make things in the tidal zone, the sea edits overnight, and whatever survives three tides gets a title. The website simply tells the truth about the process.
Letters answered between tides. Studio visits at low water only — check the clock in the corner before you set out.
write_to_the_shore()