Words, Jesse Jackson IV | firstname.lastname@example.org
Photography, Reed J Kenney | @reedjkenney
My fascination with subcultures that I was never privy to has persisted since my youth. Rather early on, the idealized version of life as a New Englander struck me as terribly exciting. As many my age, I must attribute this fascination to the romanticised version depicted by Ralph Lauren en route to speaking an American Dream into existence. The polo never spoke to me as strongly as the yachting, though.
Not quite sure why that is. The idea of sailing - the pace, the rhythm, the spray of the water - that continues to be a great draw to me. Perhaps it’s the quiet that I seek, the solitude. Recurring themes in the environments I appreciate, coupled with the comfort of a set of manual tasks to accomplish each day. Of course, there comes with the idea of yachting a well understood set of social constraints that again just exceeded my grasp at the time the images were most impactful; it is that very imprint that drives the pursuit of those things well beyond the formative years. When you make it, you want it to look like you imagined it would, and thus we prove the power of nostalgia.
There is value in this aimless dreaming. After all, how else would one shape the vision of the life one seeks to lead? How often are aspirations based on reality, as opposed to dreams? At any rate, as time has progressed, so too have my aspirations. Although I still envision a lazy few summer days yachting off of the coast of a Mediterranean estate, my thoughts recently have been drawn towards altogether quicker nautical machines.
Little needs to be said of the elegance of a Rivamare or the Monte Carlo Offshorer, but for the fact that they opened an entirely new set of possibilities to a boy who grew up surrounded on all sides by what seemed like endless acres of corn. To sleep, perchance, to dream.. but better to dream awake.