Stomping Grounds: Senior Seminar Highlights Show
Liberty Stam
In 1985, my dad, then 18 years old, embarked on a six-week expedition in Spitsbergen, Norway, in his bright orange kayak, “Noordewind.” From the Arctic Ocean to the winding canals of Holland, New York’s Jamaica Bay, and the North Shore of Massachusetts, where I grew up, this boat has followed my dad across continents and the various places he has called home.
Ocean kayaking can be a frustrating, strenuous endeavor. Attempting to keep itself upright amidst the ocean’s peaks, valleys, white caps, and winds, the boat engages in a process called “weathercocking,” seeking to face the wind head-on to minimize the risk of capsizing. Because most of my kayaking experience has been spent in a geographical area known for its northeastern wind and storm patterns, the kayak almost always turns north. No matter how much force I exert, the boat pulls northward, like the magnet inside a compass. The journey, then, becomes a negotiation between the water, the boat, the elements, and the paddler.
Orientation, then, is not determined solely by the individual but by the intersection between the self, the magnetizing pulls of the world (interpersonal connections, surrounding environments, forms occupied by the individual—kayak, car, container home, skyscraper), and the compass one uses to interpret all of these disparate elements.
In 2020, my dad listened to his internal compass and began building a container home in Boothbay Harbor, Maine, the same northern landing our kayaks always led us to. These photographs, documenting the fifth year of our build, aim to convey both the pull of home and the conscious decision-making that goes into the process of place-making.