lithoral

I spent a large part of my childhood playing in the blockhouses. We’d go inside with a thrilling mix of fear and fascination. We hoped to find things. We took shelter there during summer storms when everyone else was fleeing the beach, running toward their cars. We hid there during games. We kissed on the mouth for the first time. Later, it became a refuge for drinking beer, drinking vodka, and kissing more passionately. Then came the graffiti on the concrete, the broken bottles, and the smell of urine. So be it. They were buried. Long considered at best a visual eyesore, at worst a safety hazard for swimmers and walkers, we now recognize their historical, heritage, and environmental value (as a refuge for certain species or markers of erosion). The ones that interest me are generally abandoned, freed from everything. Their form has slowly slipped into ruin. They inexorably blend in with the burial mounds, the dolmens, the stones. Lithoral is an ongoing series of photographs exploring this transformation.