By Hendrik Paul, Process Graduate 2024
My new photography book, Dark Light, is a piece of my heart and a testament to two profound journeys. In 2022, my wife, Stacy, faced an aggressive form of breast cancer, a time marked by the fierce tides of uncertainty and resilience. Photography became my way of processing the whirlpool within—each wave that crashed against the coast became a reflection of the upheaval and quiet strength we both shared. As I documented the rugged landscape, I realized I was capturing not just the movement of the sea, but the rise and fall of my own spirit in those months, witnessing Stacy’s courage, beauty, and vulnerability.
In 2024, after Stacy’s recovery, I stepped into The Process, not fully realizing the depth of healing it would unlock. It was an unexpected descent into my own story—a quiet excavation of family patterns and unspoken wounds that had unknowingly shaped my responses during her illness. The experience was like watching waves gather strength, cresting to reveal buried memories and fears, rising to the surface with the raw honesty of the sea at night. Through The Process, I began to reclaim my own voice—one I’d often silenced for the comfort of others. It became a journey of permission: permission to feel, to release, and to surrender to the currents within me.
One particular session in The Process crystallized this shift. In that moment, it was as if I were standing alone on the shore at midnight, watching the waves unfurl beneath a sliver of moonlight. There was no pushing, no forcing—just the rawness of what was. Just as I let the night guide my photographs, I learned to let my emotions rise and fall without judgment, without the need to control them. This radical act of surrender—of simply being with what is—was a revelation.
Each image in Dark Light became a meditation on the harmony of light and shadow, chaos and calm. The photographs are not just landscapes, but reflections of the landscapes within us—the way healing is never linear, and how growth often arrives quietly, like stars fading into dawn. Through The Process, I began to see how my photography mirrored this delicate dance between control and surrender, with each photograph echoing the lessons of my own inner coastlines.
Dark Light is my offering to those on their own journey of healing, to those standing on the edge of their own storms, searching for that quiet resilience. I hope these images remind us all of the beauty in letting go, in allowing ourselves to drift and be held by the waves, trusting in both the darkness and the light.
