Posted on September 30, 2011
The land and sea meet gently along Siesta Key on Florida’s Gulf coast. A wide expanse of white sand tapers gradually toward the water, and the water subtly deepens as one walks away from shore. And sometimes, land and sea intermix when heavy rain, or waves during a falling tide, leave channels in the sand where shallow pools linger until filled in by the tide once again.
These are two portraits of that shifting spot between land and sea, the first in the white heat of a summer afternoon, and the second in the quiet coolness of an early morning with the slanting sunlight illuminating a lone bird and the city in the distance.
Posted on January 17, 2011
A circle of tightly clustered snails near the water’s surface seems to overlap the circle of rock polished by the action of the sea. Below, an arc highlights a cluster of red globules on the beach next to the round seagrape leaf. While the circle is not always an easy design element to work with, it has always been a powerful symbol and metaphor. These images allude to that power.
Posted on September 6, 2010
If there were such a thing as compass points within the picture frame, both of these images would be pointing off to the north-northeast. But they seem to be pointing to something else, too.
Posted on August 18, 2010
Living so close to and surrounded by the sea, one develops a relationship with it — probably not unlike the relationship desert dwellers have with the desert, or forest dwellers with the forest.
This awareness of place can help us be more attuned to messages from the world around us, and sometimes even feel its joys and pains.
Posted on July 6, 2010
“The Calm” looks west in the protected lee of a point during the calm following a squall. The sun had just broken through, illuminating a single cloud and the shallow water at my feet.
“Ocean Energy” looks east into a brisk prevailing wind on a sunny afternoon, with only the rocky outcrop to protect the shallow pool from the brunt of the ocean waves.
Even when the shoreline palette is so similar as in these two images, the ocean’s moods can be very different.
Posted on November 12, 2009
The two old Danish forts on St. Croix — one in Christiansted and the other in Frederiksted — were defended by cannons aimed seaward. The irony is that the real threat to the planter’s culture of that era came from the land in the form of the changing economics of the sugar trade, the end of slavery, and rebellions by workers against the oppressive conditions they endured.
I’m not sure if the cannons were ever fired, but many of them have now found their way to emplacements around the island where they are mounted barrel down on street corners and elsewhere to act as guardrails or barriers. This one, however, was placed into the rock at the ocean’s edge where the salt water and air is taking its toll on the old iron. It’s purpose is a mystery.
Just a few feet away from this relic of the past is a much larger relic of the future, the new clock tower built in the renovated plaza that greets cruise ship passengers as they disembark. On the rocks below the plaza were a pair of jeans and shirt with no owner visible in the water or elsewhere nearby. Perhaps he simply melted away, or even scampered away nude.
Posted on September 25, 2009
The dead trunk of a palm plant washed up on the shore. At one end was the tangle of roots joined to the base of the trunk. At the other, the spiraled remains of where the living palm fronds had been attached subtly tailed off into fibrous strands. These two semi-abstracts are interpretations of each end of this single object that had washed ashore.