The village Nonza sits high on the cliffs above, and from up there you can see all of it. The dark pebble beach stretching along the west coast of Cap Corse, the sharp line where black stone meets blue water, the people moving slowly across the gravel below. What you only understand from directly above is what those people are doing. They pick up the pale stones and arrange them. Names, initials, a heart, a date. The Moorish head of Corsica, assembled with patience. Repose en paix, Papa. Nobody coordinates this. Nobody cleans it up. The tide shifts things, the next visitor adds something, and the beach keeps changing. Never the same twice. This series was shot from above, at different distances and in different light. Sometimes wide, taking in the full sweep of the beach. Sometimes close, until the gravel becomes texture and the messages become the landscape.
