A few weeks ago, on some rainy Saturday, I sat down to print photos from last year. The vast majority of them are shots taken as part of The North Sea project. I printed dozens, if not more, photos in the 10.2 × 15.2 cm format, spread them out on the table, and suddenly I realized something.

Most of my free time over the past few years, apart from a few periods when I was traveling around Europe, I spent on the Dutch coast, photographing everything I came across.

The result is a few hundred gigabytes of images. A mind-blowing volume, if you ask me.

I’m not estimating their value by volume. I’m fully aware that a big part is just a production waste.
But there are some photos among them that I’m genuinely happy with. And actually every single frame, no matter how good or bad, is really important to me.

It is all mine. I made it.

The idea for The North Sea project was born about three years ago, when I started getting into photography and was looking for my niche. The fact that it turned out to be the coast is, of course, no coincidence.
No matter how much I love travelling, The Dutch coastline has been my favorite place on earth ever since I first came here.

I come from the border of the industrial and mountainous part of southern Poland.
For most of my life, the sea was about 600 km away. Every trip to the coast in old days meant either a 12-hour overnight train ride or a long road trip across the entire country.
So it’s no surprise that for me and my friends, the beach and the sea were something of a holy grail. We went to the seaside a few times a year, and those trips always had a symbolic character.

When I first came to the Netherlands 16 years ago for a party-week, friends took me to Zandvoort.
I was completely charmed by the beach bars and the slightly messy, boho-surf vibe around them. A few days later we visited Noordwijk as well, and that was it, I was hooked.

When this photography project was born more than a decade later, I didn’t fully know yet which direction to take. I started photographing the sea and the coast from land, air, and water.
After some time, it became clear that drone, surfing photography and I were not going to be great friends.

And so, with a camera in my hand and sand in my shoes, I continue this journey.

At first I wandered, exploring classic seascapes. Over time, though, I let intuition take over and returned to where it all began - to the back doors of messy, boho beach bars, surf schools, beach cabins, and all the other, sometimes odd, subjects I encounter along the way.
The idea of continuing this long-term project gave my photography meaning and had a huge impact on developing of my photographic style and the direction I want to move in.

When I was looking through those printed photos, it turned out that this body of work is slowly coming together into a coherent whole - one that I’m happy with. It is a long and painful process tho.
One of the reasons why printing your photos helps so much with selecting, sequencing and simply curating your body of work, is the fact this is so difficult to achieve when browsing through your photos on electronic device.

At this point it felt good to reactivate the project’s Instagram profile. I refreshed the layout and started posting photos regularly again.

Feel free to follow. I’d love to gather people who for whatever reason feel connected to the coast and sea, exchange the work, thoughts, or just sit down together and stare at the sea.

Sea you there.