For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind

Brighton beach just after Christmas was windy and freezing, but the pier with the machines where you could gamble two pence coins away, Poundland, and the fish and chip restaurant were pretty warm. We ate cockles swilling in vinegar and waded into the icy sea next to the burnt pier as soon as we got to the beach, when we took these pictures.

Of making many books there is no end

Paris at Christmas time was icy and filled with long afternoon walks after waking up at midday. We cooked stews, went to the cinema, stared at the snow falling every morning, and sat around Camille's log fire with mulled wine and whiskey. One afternoon just before she left for Bordeaux, I shot these pictures of Camille around her flat, with loud 60s music playing from her bedroom.

Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth

Halloween at Cambridge meant we all dressed up and ate a spooky formal dinner in the Hall, drank too much wine, slurred through our desserts at each other, and never made it out of the college grounds. Theo's 'Fire' outfit should have won best costume though.

Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep

It was a freezing night around this time last year when Rosa came over and we played around with clothes and images and ideas we'd had for a while, as well as making absurdly elaborate cocktails and trying to catch my rabbit. I think the heating went off at midnight, so then all we could do was huddle together for warmth. These are a few of the pictures I took that evening.

Stolen waters are sweet

From the coast in Normandy we could see the English Channel Islands and listen to BBC radio, which gave me a strange sense of hovering between the two countries. We swam in the September sea, shivered on the rocky beaches, taunted Arturo's grandma's sausage dog, watched dubbed films, and on the last day I fell off my bicycle and cut my knees in the gravel.

Lead them unto living fountains of waters

At the sea the waves went way above our heads, and the saltiness of the water was almost painful. We took these pictures with an underwater camera, standing right in the thick of the waves.

The mountains and hills will burst into song before you

Rosa and I travelled to an immense landscape of waist-high ferns and thick forest, where we ate egg and cress sandwiches, deer-spotted and shot these pictures in the incredible afternoon light.

Everything is possible for him who believes

These were taken in a tiny floating fishing village called Tai O, where all the houses balanced on stilts, the heat was almost suffocating, and all of the locals appeared to collectively lie on their floors gazing blankly at a television screen whilst fish hung drying outside in the sun.

And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday

I just found this old clipping from the February couples i-D two years ago, when I was sixteen. Leeds asked me and Alfie to come round to his flat on Kingsland road one Saturday morning, where we drank mugs of tea and watched tv before we propped up the square rug and Bella shot a roll of film of us on the sofa trying not to laugh at t4 or the cooking shows that were on. Then I think we went to eat Vietnamese for breakfast and look at the tapes in the Oxfam shop.

Until the day breaks, and the shadows flee away

These are from a long walk along an old railway line that cuts a line over the east of Paris, and from the sprawl below it.