Studio Notes No. 1:
The Light That Never Left
A high-contrast black and white photograph of the shoreline at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Captured from directly overhead, the image features a sharply defined line where ocean water meets sand, creating a bold, abstract composition of texture and tension.
The Morris Island Lighthouse no longer works.
It doesn’t rotate. It doesn’t blink. It no longer warns sailors or marks the harbor.
But it still stands — in the distance, in the surf, in the memory of the city. It has become something else: a symbol, a ghost, a monument to quiet endurance.
Black and white photograph of the Morris Island Lighthouse off Folly Beach, South Carolina, framed by driftwood in the foreground. A solitary symbol of endurance and weathered time.
I photographed it on an overcast morning, through the skeletal limbs of driftwood. The tide was low. The wind was steady. I hadn’t gone out with a plan, just a pull toward the edge of things.
The framing — the driftwood, the gray sky, the emptiness — wasn’t something I staged. It was already there. I just chose where to stand.
That image became one of the anchor pieces in my Deep South collection. A place where lighthouses no longer light, mills no longer turn, and piers stretch toward something unseen. But all of them still stand.
If you're drawn to quiet symbols like this one, you can explore the full collection at
heather-kitchen.pixels.com.
- Heather
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