In 2021, my world shifted in a way I wasn’t prepared for. My mum, the woman who had been my anchor through every storm, was diagnosed with dementia. A disease so cruel it not only robs you of your memories but also steals your very sense of self. Watching her slip away slowly, day by day, is like watching a lighthouse fade into fog—still visible, still present, but somehow unreachable.

As I navigated the early days of her diagnosis—between doctors’ appointments, new routines, and emotional freefall—I found myself retreating to the coast. Always the coast. It wasn’t something I consciously decided. I just started going, like a tide pulled by a force deeper than logic. I’d drive for hours just to stand at the edge of the sea, camera in hand, facing the wind and waves.

The coast has always spoken to me. There’s a language in the rhythm of the water, a cadence that calms even the most chaotic thoughts. The sound of waves lapping against rock or crashing against cliffs has a way of quieting the mind. It’s in these moments—standing alone, watching the horizon blur into mist—that I can forget everything, even just for a while. Not in a dismissive way, but in a healing one. For a few stolen seconds, I am no longer the child of someone who’s slowly forgetting my name. I am simply a person facing something vast and unknowable, and that somehow makes my pain feel a little smaller.

This deep connection to the sea became something more than personal reflection. It became a project. A way to translate feeling into form. I began capturing black-and-white seascapes—photographs stripped of distraction, revealing only light, shadow, and the raw, emotional landscape of water and sky. These images are not just pictures of waves or rocks or distant ships. They are meditations on grief, memory, stillness, and the quiet power of nature.

Why black and white? Because dementia, to me, feels like the world losing its colour. It is full of contrast—sharp edges between past and present, clarity and confusion. The simplicity of monochrome photography mirrors the starkness of watching someone fade. It also heightens the emotional weight of each scene, drawing attention not to what is there, but to what is felt.

Over time, this body of work grew into something larger than I imagined. A collection that tells a story—my story, my mum’s story, and the silent stories of so many others living with or caring for someone with dementia. And so, the idea for a book was born.

This book, filled with these seascapes, is more than a personal catharsis. It’s a way to give back. Every image is dedicated to the people and families navigating the same heartbreaking terrain I am, and all proceeds from the book will go to Dementia UK. Their work has been a lifeline, offering support not just to my mum but to our entire family. This is my way of saying thank you—and of helping others find their way through the same fog.

Creating the book has also been a form of quiet advocacy. Dementia is often hidden, spoken about in whispers or behind closed doors. Yet it touches so many lives. Through this project, I hope to open a space for connection—for people to feel seen, to find a piece of themselves in the stillness of a seascape, and to know they’re not alone.

When I look at these images, I see more than coastlines. I see moments of peace, of surrender, of acceptance. I see the emptiness not as desolate, but as spacious—an invitation to breathe, to pause, to simply be. Perhaps that’s why I’m so drawn to the sea. It reflects what I need most: silence, depth, perspective.

I often return to one particular spot—a small, quiet bay where the land curves gently into the sea. There’s nothing grand about it. No dramatic cliffs or roaring surf. Just the soft hiss of foam and the occasional cry of a gull. I go there when I’m overwhelmed, when words fail, or emotions threaten to spill over. I stand with my camera and try to capture the feeling, not just the scene.

And each time I do, I think of my mum. Of her smile, her laugh, the way she used to hold my hand when I was small. I remember who she was before the disease, and I honour who she still is, even as pieces of her slip away. The sea helps me hold both truths at once—that she is still here, and that she is leaving.

This book is a love letter, not just to her, but to all the quiet moments we shared. To the unspoken understandings. To the walks we used to take. To the waves we watched together, without saying a word.

If even one image brings someone a moment of comfort, then this project has done its job. If it raises enough to fund a few more hours of care, a phone call of support, a moment of relief for another family, then it has done more than I ever dreamed.

In the end, perhaps that’s what the sea teaches us best. That life comes in waves. That there is beauty even in sorrow. That we can’t stop the tide, but we can choose how we stand in it.

Andrew’s book is available here:
www.seaphotobook.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andrew Atkinson has over 30 years of passion, skill, and experience in photography that come together to create powerful, meaningful work. Experiences from the world of commercial advertising to capturing the beauty of weddings and the serene landscapes that inspire awe, his journey as a photographer has been as diverse as it has been rewarding. Throughout these years, he has had the privilege of working with countless clients and capturing life’s most important moments, bringing visions to life through the lens.

However, in this next chapter of his photography journey, he is focused on using his craft to make a difference. With a deep commitment to raising awareness and funds for dementia research and care, he is blending my artistic experience with a cause close to his heart. Through every image he captures, he strives to not only tell a beautiful story but also contribute to the ongoing efforts to improve the lives of those affected by dementia.

Each stunning photograph taken is an opportunity to support this vital cause. By choosing to purchase Andrew’s work, you are not just investing in timeless photography; you are joining a movement that seeks to create change and support those in need. Every purchase, every donation, and every shared image brings us one step closer to a world where dementia no longer has the same devastating impact.

“Thank you for being part of this journey. Together, we can create a lasting legacy of hope, awareness, and progress—one photograph at a time.”, Andrew Atkinson.

“SEA” PHOTOGRAPHY BOOK
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