The Sea as Healer
April 3, 2006:
At an art gallery in Den Helder, a sea-side town in northern nether-region, 'singer-songwriter' night. There is actually an inordinate amount of artistic talent in this little country. The ride up here to Den Helder was refreshing. The flat landscape, the necessary windmills, looking into the sunset and seeing a receding line of those new modern windmills until the orange, blinding light of the sun forced us to look away. Then, approaching the North Sea, hundreds of birds on barren fields, rabbits everywhere, swans, gulls,and then sheep.
This night was ok if not a bit mellow and alientating. I sat and wrote postcards with wine and candlelight.
Our new friends sang their songs and I was very impressed by the natural ease of the beauty in their voices. The next day we walked right into one of Friedrich's canvases - the sky and sea a million different nuanced shades of blues, greens and greys. The open-sky - horizon to horizon - so vast, luminescent - from shore to sand dunes with nothing impeding our view. Clouds racing through the victorious sunshine. Sea birds everywhere, flying in formation. Hundreds of geese so high above, lower are the gulls who peruse the dunes, dunes that keep Holland from dissapearing into the sea. They glide effortlessly riding the updraft that sweeps up from the dunes.
We sat for herbal tea on the beach, slightly raised above the sea level. The bright red container ship against a canvas of blues, also gliding, approaching the shallow flats. Horses galloping, hundreds of dogs, people, bikes, striped sea shells, everything flat, vast and sunny.
A baby sat out on the deck with us, a large dog sniffing its tiny soft head, whisps of blonde hair dancing frenetically in the sea breeze. Then a bumble bee, three times the size of our little urban bees, sat on its shiny hair. This red and furry monster landed on the baby's head and nobody was afraid. The father gently removed the giant from the little one's unsuspecting head, where it had landed. MMMMMM, I do like this level of civility and calm. But now, broken, Im back to the lunacy which is this boat, this confusion and work. At least I'm back in a bed that is 'mine'.
At an art gallery in Den Helder, a sea-side town in northern nether-region, 'singer-songwriter' night. There is actually an inordinate amount of artistic talent in this little country. The ride up here to Den Helder was refreshing. The flat landscape, the necessary windmills, looking into the sunset and seeing a receding line of those new modern windmills until the orange, blinding light of the sun forced us to look away. Then, approaching the North Sea, hundreds of birds on barren fields, rabbits everywhere, swans, gulls,and then sheep.
This night was ok if not a bit mellow and alientating. I sat and wrote postcards with wine and candlelight.
Our new friends sang their songs and I was very impressed by the natural ease of the beauty in their voices. The next day we walked right into one of Friedrich's canvases - the sky and sea a million different nuanced shades of blues, greens and greys. The open-sky - horizon to horizon - so vast, luminescent - from shore to sand dunes with nothing impeding our view. Clouds racing through the victorious sunshine. Sea birds everywhere, flying in formation. Hundreds of geese so high above, lower are the gulls who peruse the dunes, dunes that keep Holland from dissapearing into the sea. They glide effortlessly riding the updraft that sweeps up from the dunes.We sat for herbal tea on the beach, slightly raised above the sea level. The bright red container ship against a canvas of blues, also gliding, approaching the shallow flats. Horses galloping, hundreds of dogs, people, bikes, striped sea shells, everything flat, vast and sunny.
A baby sat out on the deck with us, a large dog sniffing its tiny soft head, whisps of blonde hair dancing frenetically in the sea breeze. Then a bumble bee, three times the size of our little urban bees, sat on its shiny hair. This red and furry monster landed on the baby's head and nobody was afraid. The father gently removed the giant from the little one's unsuspecting head, where it had landed. MMMMMM, I do like this level of civility and calm. But now, broken, Im back to the lunacy which is this boat, this confusion and work. At least I'm back in a bed that is 'mine'.
posted by Plutoplazm at 5:00 AM
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