Jacobs Point, a small salt marsh between Bristol and Warren, RI, is sort of a muse to me. While I’ve been unfailthful to her on quite a few occasions, the basic forms that land, water, plants, and sky take there are endlessly interesting to me. I think there’s a few reasons for this, one of them being that having grown up in Manhattan, the idea of a horizontal landscape is alluring. The other, perhaps more important, is that they always mean a sort of freedom to me. I used to spend a large portion of my summers in a New Jersey salt marsh, now no longer in existence, where I got to experience being truly alone for the first time. It’s an experience that gets harder and harder to replicate as I get older, as I seem to require greater and greater mileage between me and the rest of humanity to feel the same way. I miss it terribly, but Jacobs Point is pretty wonderful.