Washed Ashore - Print Options

"These clear-voiced Sirens fair Terpsichore, / One of the Nine, to Achelous bore."
— Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica IV (trans. A. S. Kline)

The old stories never agreed on what these creatures were — bird-women who sang sailors to their deaths, or something gentler that simply belonged to the water in a way people never could. This image sides with the gentler version. A scaled tail catches the last of the light where the foam breaks against it; the figure lies half-swallowed by an incoming wave, hair fanned out and already returning to the sea. Shot in black and white, the surf reads as pure texture — churning white against the dark curve of the tail — so the eye keeps moving between the wreckage of the wave and the stillness of the body caught inside it, unsure which one is actually in motion.

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