We arrive on the beach, wind whipping across it from the cold North Sea. It is a mixture of sand and crushed shells; neither one thing nor the other. I settle myself down with paper and ink whilst the boys take their spades to the sand to see what it will let them create. I look out across an empty landscape. My mind is seeking something to rest my eyes upon but it keeps on reaching and reaching past the occasional wave breaking finding nothing more until the horizon line where there is a solitary freight boat that seems to stand still.
At first there is disappointment. I desire to draw and the canvas in front of me seems as empty as the blank paper before me. I look longer. As I look there is a growing sense of falling into the landscape and blending with it. Empty no longer. Here is simplicity. The sea becomes a vast stretch of blue tone upon blue tone with the softest sense of texture. The sky overhead a gentle blue with the barest wisp of white cloud. The wind and the waves crashing upon the beach are noisy. Yet their sounds block out all others and so flatten out all sound. The weights of life slowly drop away to leave a stillness within me. I relax. I always fail to recognise how heavy a load I carry in my head, how physically braced against it my muscles are to hold me within that space until I am somewhere with minimal sensory input. Immersed in slower nature, I come back to myself. Breath aligns with the wind, toes combine with sand. Existing in this moment is easy.
It ends, as all things must. Paper and spades are packed away and we head off into the village in search of food. Can we not carry the sea away with us though? Can we not look through a window on to it when we must retreat into our shelters far away? I am searching for this, to recreate this sense of stillness on to the paper:
Seascape 1
Seascape 2