The first time I took a photo on Cromer Pier it was raining. A lone fisherman stood at the far end not catching much, slim pickings even with the whole sea to himself. His simple words to me that day stayed with me: “These days, you’ve just got to take what you can get.” I guess I just needed to hear it. I took his portrait and that started something.
Still reeling from a fractured childhood lacking in guidance, I’d spent my 20s being angry and stubborn, a dreamer and a drinker and now here I was, 30 years old and questioning my ability to be a functioning adult, let alone a creative person successfully making a living. At that time I didn't even own the camera I had with me. But I had this one portrait, and his words, and the pier right there in front of me. Mum had moved to Cromer from the Midlands. I’d go down the pier every time I visited. Family relationships are complicated and sometimes you need space. The pier had become mine.
Before Cromer, I was shooting single images. I started seeing in sequences, appreciating the Norfolk light, approaching strangers, later printing the images in the darkroom, immersing myself in the effects of colour. I photographed some people many times over the years from children to young adults, through their teenage years. I reflected on my own life at their age. I liked to imagine who all of these people were and write their narratives myself. My assumptions about them, their lives and their problems helped me in turn to deal with my own and fostered an empathy for others that has made me see the world differently.
These portraits are a glimpse into British life in a beautiful place: the youths still searching for their identities and style and other people, like me, drawn by the lure of the ocean, staring out to a sea that changes colour every day, trying to work it all out. Cromer made me realise that everyone has their struggles.
It made me see that everyone is looking for meaning in their lives, whether consciously or not. Cromer has become so many things to me, it has been my own photographic training, a 10-year exploration into finding your voice. The Pier is where I found mine.
