Raymond and I first met at a local café. We were dressed alike which seemed improbable to both of us. Equally improbably, we were each keeping company with a fat journal—inking/charting/adhesing artifacts from recent days onto broad pages.
At his invitation, I joined him at his small table and we began the kind of conversation that feels like blooming. We were soon talking about what we loved about swimming and how it felt to photograph under water. “Like a dance,” he told me. The movement, the breath, the timing.
Buoyed by happenstance we decided we’d meet at the pool next time in what has become a morning ritual—happy greetings, the plunge, breath held, the exhalation of thousands of bright bubbles, the wonder of what we might find under water.
