Ode to Amagansett

IMGP0281This blog post serves to mark a time long ago—the Spring of 2010—which was the occasion of my first visit to Amagansett. At the time, I was still a very greenhorn photographer. Still, somehow, when I look back at these photos, I see some of my all-time favorites.

IMGP0624 - Version 2(Above: Scott Chaskey at Quail Hill Farm)

I wonder why that is? As I examine the factors at play, I see a few key aspects. First, lasting friendships were seeded during this visit, and the trip marked a clear turning point for me. Most importantly and memorably was one key facet: that was a time when there were people around me who trusted my talents and respected my thoughts. It was their profound (and to me, seemingly unearned) faith in me that allowed for my confidence—in my artistic way of viewing the world—to flourish. Their faith pushed me to believe in myself.

As I go through these photos, the nostalgia for that depth of faith and of respect hangs over me. I do not think I would ever overstate the importance of it. Especially because it was that faith which sustained beyond that moment, and it incubated the rest of my professional and artistic careers. All this, on first visit to a spot on the South Fork of Long Island: Amagansett.

This also was the same visit that I first used the laptop that I am typing on right now. My first download of photos to this machine happened while sitting in the guest bedroom in the home of a now dear mentor and friend.

IMGP0816Today the memories of that trip are still potent, but what actually sparked this post was an occasion. Today I moved these first photos on my laptop fully to an external hard drive. This act did not come easily for me, for my fear of having less access to them, or to not seeing them whenever I am in my photo editing software. It feels like I am losing them entirely. But now I am letting go of that aphasia and am moving them to the archives of my storage. Hurrah!

To mark that shift (as we also make the shift to Fall), I am sharing these photos with all of you. I hope you will enjoy.

My first memory if of the smells and saturated colors of the lichens—seen here on a wet and cold day, which made for rich colors indeed:

IMGP0027 IMGP9971 IMGP9970And beautiful bones—picked up with curious hands or left to be their own still and silent memorial to a life:

IMGP9977 IMGP0059And spectacularly zen-like photos of the shifting dunes. From the black & white and spacious:

IMGP0034 IMGP0129 IMGP0241 to the vibrant and saturated patterns of life and subtle geology.

IMGP0198 IMGP0032 IMGP0144IMGP0270 IMGP0023 IMGP9955And I remember the exquisite and balanced—but somehow still quirky—feel of this dream home, as well:

IMGP0508 IMGP9851 IMGP9844 IMGP9848 IMGP0394 IMGP0404 IMGP0447I am so grateful to Amagansett. It gave me all this as a palette.

It gave me the breeze at my back.

And though the sands of time have shifted,

IMGP0340I will always keep an openness—a whole new realm of possibilities opened to me on this trip. There is something so special about way the trees bent,

IMGP9831 and the grasses laid,

IMGP0569and the signs so effortlessly became part of their surroundings.

IMGP9803 It is like no other place I have ever found.

Even from my spot in Coastal California, the light:IMGP0233the texture,IMGP0073the water, and the air of Amagansett are yet unparalleled.IMGP0015ALL OF THE PHOTOS IN THIS POST ARE BY ME. ALL ARE SUBJECT TO CREATIVE COMMONS LICENSE. THANK YOU!

2 thoughts on “Ode to Amagansett

  1. i have such fond memories of the place, the times i played the Talkhouse. thank you for reminding me of it today through your spare, reflective and lovely words and images. tony

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