A Sea Change

Claude Monet, Fisherman's Cottage on the Cliffs at Varengeville, 1882

"I go to the sea to breathe"

~ Maryanne Rademacher Hershey

I live in a landlocked spot in Canada.... far, far from any seashore... west coast or east. But I've been longing for the smell of salty air and the feeling of wind blowing on my face and hearing the call of seagulls as they swoop and glide on warm air currents. So, lately, when looking for suitable photos for blog posts, I'm drawn to water and seascapes where shades of blues and grays and greens give a feast for my sea-hungry eyes. And isn't that painting by Claude Monet such a feast?

Then when Christine from Vista Woman sent me the quote above by Maryanne Hershey, I realized, yes, ever since I was a girl it has been the sea and sand in my mind's eye that I would go to in order to 'breathe' and find peace of mind. For the glimpses of the ocean I'd had as a child when our family visited aunts and uncles and cousins -- who were so lucky to live on the west coast -- gave me a lifelong love of the sea... and, yes, the seagulls too. What is it about being by the ocean that refreshes, restores and rejuvenates?

Now I want to go to Victoria and watch the boats on the Pacific Ocean. I want to take a ferry to Martha's Vineyard or Nantucket. I want to take a voyage across the Atlantic (on the Queen Mary 2) and visit places like Cornwall, England. 

And maybe what I really would love is a day (or two) to sit on a perch like Monet must have done for this painting... to just sit and watch. Listen. Feel. Be quiet with my thoughts. Or have no thoughts. And as my soul quieted down from the buzz of life, I might start to notice, like the artist, how the colours shift and dance as the light changes. And by sitting here I might feel my soul, even my body, begin to shift and dance back into divine order. Maybe I would feel whole again. Less scattered. More able to go back to the up-side-down world, refreshed and able to sing through the storms, bless others with kindness, and bring little touches of heaven to my corner of the world.

Apparently Monet could sit in one spot for hours -- while his fellow artists ran here and there for the next best spot to paint -- to study the way the sun glinted off the water, how the colours deepened and softened, how the light changed as the day lengthened. Perhaps that's what made him such a brilliant painter of colour and light. He once said that it was on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way.

"I know that to paint the sea really well, you need to look at it every hour of every day in the same place so that you can understand its way in that particular spot; and that is why I am working on the same motifs over and over again, four or six times even." ~ Claude Monet

Through observation and reflection.... yes, that's when we discover things. That's also when we hear the tender breathings of our heart. Just to be in that place of stillness so that Someone Dear and Divine finally gets a word in edgewise, because we've stopped long enough to listen. The light starts to shine in the darkness and dull waters turn bright with jade-green and aquamarine and deep Prussian blue.
  

As I watch the early morning light shift into full scale daylight, here on my perch that is far, far away from any seashore, somehow I am transported. I smell the salty air. I feel the wind on my face... and hear the seagulls calling.

I begin to experience the sea change.  I can breathe again.

 Here's wishing you a*´¨)
> ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)
> (¸.·´ (¸.·´ * a beautiful day! *

Brenda

xox