The sea, that large restless body that is in constant movement, every changing, never settling. It is such an immense soul, alive with waves that seem always to be seeking a new path on their way to the sand. And oh what a voice! We call it a roar, and appropriately so, but haven’t we all closed our eyes and heard the different instruments of an orchestra playing to a tune that never seems to follow the same score.
Maybe that is why I find it so hard to capture these waters on camera, and for now it is beyond me to put them on canvas. The Sea overwhelms at times. And yet paradoxically it seems this wild moving entity calms those restless corners in my own soul. I lose myself on long walks by its side, all of my great concerns becoming not so great.
Magic happens at the sea. I think we have all experienced it at times, have seen it.
Memories are sweet with that incomparable sunset, the awe-inspiring storm, lazy sun filled days, and my favorite of a fog filled morning. Today once again I was able to enjoy what the sea gave, sun speckled water and the spouting of a gray whale.
We need the ocean. I need the ocean, a need that goes way beyond the mechanics of the water cycle.
With the words of Pablo Neruda
I need the sea because it teaches me.
I don’t know if I learn music or awareness,
if it’s a single wave or its vast existence,
or only its harsh voice or its shining one,
a suggestion of fishes and ships.
The fact is that until I fall asleep,
in some magnetic way I move in
the university of the waves.
The gallery and its artists pay homage to this beautiful contrary friend.
“The Sea” Opening May 18