These photos were taken on the Oregon coast near sunset as a storm was beginning to blow mist in from the ocean, which, combined with the expired film, resulted in a pleasant, almost silkscreen-like effect in the form of large, prominent grain. The title is inspired by a man who was praying aloud at the water’s edge for hours (pictured in “Acolyte #1”). He and I were the only two on the bluffs that day, and the solitude and his spirituality, coupled with the incoming gray storm, lent a powerful yet peaceful aura to the area, which reminded me of being in a cemetery – but for something much larger than us.
Raye Hendrix is a writer and photographer from Alabama. Raye is the author of the poetry chapbooks ‘Every Journal Is A Plague Journal’ (Bottlecap Press) and ‘Fire Sermons’ (Ghost City Press). She is the winner of the 2019 Keene Prize for Literature and Southern Indiana Review’s 2018 Patricia Aakhus Award. Their written work appears in Poetry Daily, American Poetry Review, 32 Poems, The Adroit Journal, and others, while their photography appears in North American Review, Olney Magazine, Press Pause Press, and various newspapers. Raye is the Poetry Editor of Press Pause Press and co-edits DIS/CONNECT: A Disability Literature Column from Anomalous press. Raye is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Oregon. Find out more here.