The ship

The compressed perspective brings the sea, the railing, the skatepark, and Dora Varella so close they almost hit the viewer in the face. I love it when a photograph can collapse the distance between what happened and the person experiencing it.

The skatepark looks like the bow of a ship to me. Dora is at the very tip, and a few millimeters could change everything. I think about the jump, the sea just ahead, her hand reaching toward mine before the high-speed descent. It is an adventure that begins in the body and may end much later, when all that remains is the memory of the adrenaline.

I keep wondering what it must be like for an athlete at this level when the skatepark seems to end right in the Bay of All Saints. Perhaps the sea becomes part of the experience without ever needing to be touched.

Then I notice the front wheels suspended in midair, and the photograph opens up another possibility. This could be a flying skateboard. Back to the Future enters the scene, and Dora could simply take off, as if the frame had suspended the rules we know for a few seconds.

I like the freedom photography gives me. A skatepark can take me onto a ship; a jump can become an adventure; a skateboard can reach the sky. Dora remains exactly where she was, but the way I see her has already changed.

Perhaps the impossible really is a matter of perspective.