seagrass

27. film lab technician. all photos are my photos.

[seagrassbeba]

nyc, 2024. i love this city.

[seagrassbeba]

i dropped out of uni not long before i took this photo, after taking three substantial breaks in my enrolment to battle my own mind for months on end. i had already graduated with a bachelor's degree two years prior, but was trying my hand at an art degree this time. in my first year i lived as a muse, all 21 years of my naivete fuelling my desire to model, mostly naked, for any photographer who asked. i loved it. i balanced my nakedness by photographing men naked and women fully dressed, with the exception of my best friend at the time who was my own muse (and i hers). i spent less than two years modelling and being weird and naked and photographing naked people before i had a break from class and everything changed. all the weird people moved away and i lost my closest friend to the childish fueds of our early 20s, and never managed to photograph the same way again. i realised this during this photoshoot, where i took photos of two friends who were strangers to me and gave me a reason to shoot film again. i've spent the last few weeks looking through darkroom prints from the years before this shoot, and i think i've almost found the heart i left in them (and the desire to shoot with and pose for weirdos again).

[seagrassbeba]

Sorry to blow up your notifications, your photography is amazing!! It speaks to me deeply. I hope you have a wonderful week :)

don't be sorry, it made me so happy to see someone enjoying my photos <3 you are so kind and this genuinely made my day, thank you 🥹

[seagrassbeba]

fennel, 2025

[seagrassbeba]

i went to this place, that i don't think exists anymore, with two friends many years ago. one was trying to set me up with the other and i was too busy building a graveyard out of sticks.

[seagrassbeba]

trying to remember how it feels to love being here

[seagrassbeba]

from when i did a darkroom class for uni, 2020. hand developed, home scanned. i gave up cleaning off the dust and fixing scan lines very quickly.

[seagrassbeba]

i'm going on my balkan roadtrip this year

i don't know how to drive on the right of the road so I might hitchhike instead

i might make friends on the way

as i search for spomenik and ancient trees

and old women with tattoos like mine

i might walk the length of the coast

if i decide a flight home is a waste of time

and photograph every person i talk to

if i manage to open my mouth

i might find the piece of me i left there all those years ago

i think she's sleeping in the adriatic

hardly visible beneath the waves

i might wake her

invite her on the trip

invite her home

take her photo

or i might leave her be

and let her call me back once i've left

[seagrassbeba]

one of my first rolls of 120, shot sometime in 2023 (and under-developed by me today). i shot the whole roll with the dark slide in and had to unroll/reroll it in my jumper to shoot again, properly. thankfully, my new mamiya reminds me that my dark slide is in otherwise this would be a ritual by now.

[seagrassbeba]

through the back window of the car (as i sat in the boot and watched the world disappear in front of me)

[seagrassbeba]

earth

[seagrassbeba]

i love it here

[seagrassbeba]

sometimes (at every chance you get) you need to walk your camera straight into the ocean.

[seagrassbeba]

it feels good to be travelling, it feels good to shoot film.

[seagrassbeba]

i found this photo on my old blog that i thought was lost - i think i took it in 2017. i didn’t start shooting film until the following year. i lost these vans somewhere recently, in between moving out and moving back home, and i was devastated. i got them when i was 13 and held onto my teen years by wearing them constantly for close to ten years. i still wear vans and take my cameras on show rides and wear green jeans and spend all my money just to go on one ride at the show every year. i look way cooler now with heaps of tattoos and a sadness i just can’t shake.

[seagrassbeba]

sometimes, in my archives, i find a person who doesn't exist anymore and i let her live again, albeit it briefly. self portrait, 2021, with enough dust to allude to a home scanning job.

[seagrassbeba]

another shadow portrait, no closer to taking an actual photo of myself. my garden, 2026.