In 1990, Lobospheres began out of a sense of wonder and amusement. Having tried (and failed) to photograph Pt. Lobos in a unique way, I looked down at the granite patterns at Weston Beach and made this photograph (see 1st image, below). I thought it was amusing, but filed it away and forgot about it.
A dozen years later, armed with my first digital camera, I returned to Weston Beach and again, looked down. It was a crisp, sparkling morning with an extremely low tide. As I scrambled over the slippery rocks, a chorus of faces and mythical creatures emerged. It was impossible to “unsee” them, so I began photographing them as found portraits, each unique, each etched forever in the rock that was the foundation of that storied beach. I’ve returned several times over the years and expected to see the same menagerie of figures and faces, but it was different each time.
While these images are ephemeral, sadly, Pt. Lobos as we know it has an expiration date, as well. Northern California‘s sea level could rise as much as seven feet by the turn of the century, all but decimating Weston Beach. In the context of inevitable catastrophic climate change, Lobospheres has become my way to document the crazy micro-beauty of this natural treasure before it’s washed away. Ultimately, Lobospheres reminds us of what we take for granted and rarely take the time to really see or appreciate.