I am waiting for pictures to come through my email so I can update my Facebook page. Patience, I have it. Sometimes more than others .. not more than other people I am saying but at some times more than others. I am somewhat of an impatient person. And sometimes a patient person. Maybe rather a tolerant person, though impatient. My patience is running out.
Maybe that is what is happening to me in what might be the second half of my life. Impatience. Let’s get going, let’s get this paint dry. Bring out a hair dryer, there is more paint to add! And, then, more to take off again. It’s one step forward and two steps back for me.
It rained today and I love the rain. I sat peacefully at the side of my bed with my feet against the window and I quietly watched the rain. I love a good mid-day rain and I love a good midnight rain. I love to watch the rain falling across the cloud-filled sky and I love to watch the occasional rain coming from a mostly clear blue sky. In Santa Fe, we used to have monsoons followed by spectacular rainbows. Rain, consistently, causes me to stop my busy life and take notice, breathe and rest.
I’m just back from Galveston Island ArtWalk. The island weather was moody, I am happy to say. It was sunny the first day and the sky was filled with the art of clouds the second day. I noticed lightning as I stood by the seashore for the last hour before noon on Sunday.
I found treasures by the sea of both the tangible and intangible kind. I stared for a long time at the clouds, lightning and strong waves that consented to the wind. I wrapped up in a white sheer something from my Pakistani neighbor and watched the water. I breathed in the sea. I was in a cove. I stood on rocks. Eventually, I looked down around me, after about an hour, and explored the gifts water had brought ashore.
I brought back a black and white something fabric, something strong, rolled almost into a rope. I cut it from the rocks and brought it home. It is eight feet in length and stylish as can be. I found a brick, weathered, two holes still running through it weathered as well. They are seascape binoculars. Last, I found in this space a piece of driftwood delicately carved to look like a runner’s torch. The gifts of the sea, both tangible and intangible.
What is intangible, the salt air, the ions, the way I always return from the sea feeling like the best part of me lives unaltered by the stress of this world. Galveston offers continuous gifts. After the hour before noon, the lightning passed and my kids and I traveled east along the island from San Luis pass. The island was moody, yes. The waves were rolling far out as I could see. I wanted to swim past them. I wanted to enter that world, but I held back.
I held back and stayed where I could still reach the sand. The pull of the salt water was strongest I had felt since I was a child in Hawaii. I could swim freestyle and five minutes later still be in the same place. It was wonderful. I swam through seaweed. It washed along my body from first my hand outstretched, along my arm, across my abdomen and continuing from my legs to feet. Occasional seaweed, a heightening of the senses within the water. A variety of touch, unexpected texture in the softness of the saltwater.
After swimming, I sat alone within the water. All I could see were waves and sky. I sat at the edge of this grand space. There was an interplay of emotion, this living breathing earth, this painter wants to live in more than one world.
I am back. And it was not a dream. It is still with me. I bring these intangibles home. I am altered, I am changed, I am made better, always better, in my experience of the sea.
Thank you for listening,
so beautiful, these words. i am with you throughout this tale. i feel, smell, see what you see. signs of a brilliant writer. this could be a book. i feel you will author and illustrate in your future. much love and thanks for this gift. these words, your love. teresa Sent from my iPhone
Ahhh, the sea… a place of serenity… and calm… where you can feel yourself relax while looking out at pure beauty while listening to the crashing waves. There is nothing more relaxing!!
You are an artist with heart and soul who became one with the see. I love the way you write. You touched me….
I am deeply touched by the comments left here .. thank you, dear lovely people. i smile at the thought of each of you. c.s.
Loved the passage, Camille. I continue to revisit your photograph of the gulf….embraced by the cloud formations in the distance….the steady pattern of an enchanting symphony of tidal waves serenading the rain into a temporary slumber. Even though we are aware we are in reach of the storm, our eyes sweep across the open water and gaze at the horizon….open, no walls….no boundaries, abundant, tranquil….infinite. And in that fleeting but sacred moment, our minds are freed from every process of thought….our senses are released to capture sight, sound, smell and feel in their purest form….pristine and unblemished. And as the rain cleanses the earth, we too are cleansed by the phenomenon of this human experiment….renewed with the clarity of knowledge that anything is possible.
LOVE this and sharing Camille!
As I began again to read these comments, I started with the first and, Teresa, as I read yours again, I could see your comment signed Saint Teresa. I could. Thank you for your belief in me and for your unending honesty and kindness. I love you.
Barbara, thank you for commenting. You love this sea, that makes me smile.
Roy, you understand .. your friendship has touched me from the beginning. Thank you for your comment, it means much to me.
Version Twelve, I want to know where Version Twelve comes from, how this name was created, the meaning behind it. I will ask you over coffee. Thank you for the depth of your comment. Anything is possible. I am happy you were on the island to experience this. Your words are beautiful.
Genevieve, thank you for sharing, for your friendship and for your comment. Thank you to everyone who has shared this post and, also, others in my blog.