Goes Ever On

A few weeks ago, Sean Proctor and I launched the Instagram account @Goes_ever_on. The account is, and subsequent photos are, an interpretive vision of roads in life and the places they lead. For a week at a time, we're asking photographers to take over the account and share a glimpse of their journey- where we are now, where we're going. The idea for the account is less about photographing physical road trips and more about sharing the very real, often bumpy, often unpredictable path to which we pursue the photographic life. Curating the account is myself (@jtully), Sean (@seanproctor) and Ian Bates (@iancbates). Thanks for your support.

For the inaugural take-over, I happened to be traveling on a road trip with Libby March to Boston for a cousin's wedding, then on to Manhattan for a shoot. While in New England, we were fortunate to have a week to spend in New Hampshire visiting old friends and old stomping grounds. It takes leaving a place to appreciate all that place had to offer, a mindset I'm actively trying to change since relocating to the Outer Banks, North Carolina. Going back north reminded me that the North Country, that magical place in northern New Hampshire, is the closest place I've known to a permanent home. It will always be there. I was reminded that I am a floater, a traveler, a curious person who won't thrive by remaining completely still.

During the past couple years, I was fortunate to work for a newspaper. It offered a way to gain a level of credibility, gain experience, and meet some incredible people. But what I've learned in the last couple of months making pictures on my own is, I no longer have the conviction or urgency that an institution grants validation. There is nothing standing between myself and making a photo, telling a story, or coming up with an idea and pursuing it. So I've done just that every day since arriving to the Outer Banks, North Carolina. Here are a few photos for Goes Ever On, a small bit of my journey.


Hurricane Arthur hits the Outer Banks

A few days ago, I heard about Tropical Storm Arthur when it was near Florida and didn't think much of it. As it continued to build strength while making its way north, I'd catch a bit of information here and there, but I was more excited about it producing some swells for surfing than anything else. Then sometime on Wednesday, it became serious. From a tropical storm, it climbed quickly to become a strong Category 2 storm and it was going to make landfall directly over the Outer Banks. 

The Outer Banks, if you're not familiar, are a set of barrier islands spanning the North Carolina coast. The Atlantic on the east side and the Pamlico Sound to the west surround the chain of islands.

Before moving here I began reading up on barrier islands and where they fit in to climate change, rising sea levels, and what those looming threats will mean for the people and places we now call home. An organization comprised of business owners, realtors and developers in 20 of the coastal counties has lobbied the North Carolina legislature to put a moratorium on their decision regarding sea level rising until 2016. Instead of acknowledging the data that says the sea level will rise 39 inches between now and 2100, the legislature is looking at a projection for the next 30 years, which says the sea level will rise only 8 inches.

I've been approaching what I photograph down here focused on this complicated reality in mind hoping to dig deeper and present both sides of a looming inevitability with its affects on the people here today, now.


Along the Atlantic