Christy Schnabel

As a kid, I spent long summer days at the Santa Monica beach, lying in the warm sand, digging my hands and feet beneath it like a soft blanket. I go to this place often to recalibrate and to clear my mind, but, while the path offers a reprieve from the chaos of the city, it is not lonely. Rather, there is a joyful abundance of humanity. Some days, the path feels like a giant conveyor belt shuttling people across miles of white sand beach. Other days it feels like an epic stage across which an endless stream of characters enter and exit the scene. Over a two year period, I walked on the path from Temescal Canyon to Venice making hundreds of portraits of the people I found there.