Wednesday, June 27, 2012


The waves were high the other night. I had no camera to capture the reflection of the sun upon the waves, the way the waves break over the rocks, the undulating blues and greens seemingly infinite and deep.I don't know how to capture this roiling motion on a camera lens no matter how hard I try, to capture that snap of the wind and the indescribable smell of life and death inherent.

To paint it seems to be a whole other difficulty, of composition and mood, to encapsulate those frozen moments, and hint at the elemental power.

I haven't seen the ocean in over ten years except from the plane over Boston, and the only ocean I've experienced is the New Jersey Atlantic as a kid, when it felt like a bigger Lake Erie, with the addition of salt and crabs, way cooler seashells, and the occasional salinated ten-dollar bill lost to the water, walking the beach at night. If I could live anywhere, it'd be this close to ocean, but being a block from the lake and having absurdly cheap rent more than makes up for the lack of means to do the other.

By the water is where I go to meditate, to ponder, to stargaze, to get out of the house, to meet up with friends, lay on the rocks, sit on the pier and stare out into the seeming endlessness, to bask in the summer sun and the breezes from the north, to marvel at the power of the coming storms and the advancing sheets of grey rain, as the water turns white, the sand blows wildly across the beach, and we take shelter beneath the pavilions at the last moment possible.

 It's an equalizer of a place where everyone gathers, the fishermen on the rocks feeding their families on perch, the fitness freaks jogging past the scenery like it doesn't exist, the hopeless romantics and the loners with the metal detectors, the grillers and kite flyers, the new agers with their drum circles and Buddhas on the sand and the punks building fires and drinking til the cops show up

Every permutation of age, economics, and religion, yachtsmen, cruisers, users. The facilities are grungy and dismal but the beauty is so intense that it's a minor inconvenience. When night falls, the darkness is enough that the stars can be seen, the sound of waves and transistor radios feels otherworldly, and we share this space together.


  1. To be fair, it's not as if Erie rolls and tumbles like *that*.

  2. Sometimes it does! That's how it looked the other night!

  3. It's never like that when I get up there. And this list is peppered with girlfriend metal! Thy kvlt ist troo nein!

  4. I really enjoyed reading this post, it was beautifully written! Kudos on your Edward Dulac background, too :)