My world is water-colored . . .
Having spent much of my life near the coast, both at home and abroad, I am less of a swimmer than you might expect, though most of my water time has been spent near northern shores, if that explains anything for you. But I am greatly comforted by being near water without needing to be in it. Rivers, oceans, lakes and ponds, streams and waterfalls, puddles and pools alike all have their appeal and the sight and sound of them soothes my soul like few other things can do. A walk along a riverbank or beach boardwalk, out on the mud flats or wading in the cool fringes of a foaming inbound tide–all have the power to send the complications of life fleeing, if only for a while.
Not so surprising, then, that many of my artworks play with the cool hues of water and the shadowy welcome of its associations. Whether in the impressionistic and abstract styles seen here or in images quite specific to the sea, the hold that water has on my heart must make its appearance often just to comfort me.
All the same, as a northerner by birth and years of residence, I have always been wildly fascinated too by the idea of those mythic turquoise tropical waters whose gem-like clarity would surely entice me in, offering the siren-like assurance that I must be utterly safe in them since I can see practically forever in their depths. I know that this is not entirely true, but the appeal of their warmth and seemingly pure glassy transparency has its potent pull on my imagination anyway. So it was a bit of a fait accompli that I should love it when I did at last have my chance to step into the perfectly sheer aquas and blues of the Caribbean for the first time. It was everything I’d hoped, and of course a little something more.
Swimming in Warm Water
I: Skimming along as if in flight Just under the surface of a lake, I can look up and see through its tinted lens A circular and absurdly distorted universe Of inbent trees examining me in kind, Of ship-sized cumulus zeppelin clouds whizzing by, The pillowed prows of ducks plowing past me And convoluted birds careening In zigzag traffic from shore to shore.
II: Looking down, I see dazzling curtains of kelp Dyeing mottled sunlight as it Cooks the lake like a giant kettle full of fish. Flitting, darting shapes shoot up to nip me Or casually brush by And I exult in floating a subtle touch Toward a parti-colored veil-tailed fish When it fixes me with its dully silver, Unemotional lidless eye.
Perhaps I shall always be looking for a sea change . . .
Because for all that we know and admire about its clarity and simplicity, and surely for its necessity to life, water is also still a source of great mystery and power and its depths both literally and metaphorically may never be fully plumbed.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Absolutely fantastic in so many ways! Bravo!!
I appreciate that and am pleased you enjoyed the post. Thank you!
Kathryn
I second the comment above 🙂
Thank you, too, Sonali. I am always happy if my images touch a fellow imagist! 🙂
Welcome!
Too Gorgeous Kathryn!! The colours, the words, everything. 😀
The bad thing about this post, of course, is that it made me want to dash off instantly to some shore, but there’s not a lot of that available right by our place–unless you count the drainage ditch down the hill that creates a little stream after a big storm! But I’m delighted you liked this one all the same, Eve. 😀
Brilliant as always. I too was born at the coast and returned home 9 years ago and when we moved for business for my husband it too was at the ocean – seems we will be making another trip away for 2 years for business but this time to the desert!
🙂 Mandy
Desert living? That will undoubtedly be a major adventure for you both. I will be anxiously reading your posts to see what new beauties are revealed to you by such a dramatic change of venue! May it be an unexpectedly fantastic joy in every way, my dear Mandy.
xoxo
Kathryn
Stunning. As a landlocked dweller for my childhood, the sea was always associated with holidays. But they were the cold waters of Wales and England. Little did I know that once I started to travel I would dicover warm water, clear shallows, immense lakes, . Oh the joy! There’s something so mesmeric and pulling about water, something about it that always captures and intrigues.. No wonder I chose to live there. My SIL repeats the saying “once you have lived by the sea you always will/want to”
She speaks wisely, your sister in law. Water is irresistibly magnetic to most of us once we get to experience it.
this post, a dip in a warm lagoon! such beauty and comfort and peace.
Sounds almost like sitting in Antoinette’s kitchen, I think! 😀
xoxo
I’ve lived within a few miles of a Great Lake my entire life and wouldn’t move away for anything. Still, there’s something special about a seacoast, any seacoast. You remind me. It’s been too long since I’ve been near one. Hmmm…
We, too, are near a big lake, though not nearly so impressive as Lake Michigan, nor a natural lake either, so given all of that we are *really* looking forward to our visit to the west coast this summer! But I do love Lake MI and Chicago both. I can easily see why you’re so happy being there. 🙂
So fluid and soothing in words and artwork…cool and collected but deeply felt too. I am also a water lover…more for watching and walking near than swimming. Really love, Kathryn!
Glad you like it, Diane! xo