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Samstag, 17. November 2007

The ocean heals me.

A death sentence to a dream...when people say they are not creative,it may be that somewhere in their life the comment was hurled at them from a person who had no clue on how to muse them into be ing creative.
It may be that this person has never been awake to themself and can not see or feel.

Trust me on this, nothing is written in stone. Times change, talents improve and in some case's fall to a sudden death. Leaving behind a broken shell to be blown into the wind. Crushed by all who touch it.

Courage is always an essentaial element of change -in art as in life. Learn to have it.

Sometimes when I am in a mind slump I take a walk by myself in a forest near by.

While walking I sing as loud as i like. Find a spot to stop, lay down on the ground ,close my eyes and think of places's like my home land Ireland.

Open my eyes and watch the clouds become my next painting. Become my next photoshop drawing from a photo.

Have you ever gone sailing at night by yourself ? It is an experience I will never forget. The sea became my heartbeat,sleeping on the sea took me to a place that is hard for me to forget.

The breeze across my face, hair in a tangeld mass. Moving to my heartbeat the sea rocked me for hours before the morning sun greeted me with a new outlook.

A man once told me I was could never sail myself..I proved him wrong and proved myself right. I told myself before leaving the dock of Fort walton that I could do this, That I had the sea in my soul. I had lived on the ocean as a young girl.
I always wanted to be one with her. Now was my chance.

I had bought a sailboat and was ready to leave the toxic people behind. I was ready to spend my days and nights on the sea that called me nightly. To photograph the world of sailing and do it on my own.

Three weeks into my trip, I became ill and was forced to return. Back into cancer treatments and missing the ocean I swore I woud return to that lifestyle.
No property tax's, cars,people,or dress codes. Just myself and my dog.

As life would have it my life has changed yet again. I find myself on the road of travel with a man who has no sea legs.
Who fears the ocean and rather be in a desert with mountains. The good news is that i can visit the ocean often and have her touch my soul.

I once knew of a man called Desi who came from New Foundland. A man of the sea and a chap with a deep dark insight to life. I often wonder ever became of my friend Desi.
If like my Scottsman friend he has found peace in life and no longer needs a muse. I on the other hand need a muse now...and that muse shall be be sea

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