Tag Archives: abstraction in nature

New Moon in Virgo

The year in review.

Ocean waves at sunset.

September 17, 2020.

Several hours before the moon to turn dark, I brought myself to my favorite sand dune, suited up in my swim gear, like I had been all summer. Mid day in the midst of September, temperature noticeably lower but water was still warm and inviting.

I kept myself pretty much out of the sea since Fukushima incident nine years ago and spent every summer in torment, pining for my ocean fix like I would for a long lost love but this year, after hearing some millionaire technocrat talk about nano technology embeds planned for regular humans like myself I made a decision that an extra plutonium particle or two in my snout wouldn’t be a big deal.

Rat and birds illustration.
Abstract artist at work.
Coffee cup with a leaf.

Usually this particular beach has chaotic white forms right at the shore giving me a clue about my whereabouts – as once in water, perspective changes and you become a minute miniature existence floating in the merciless energy soup. But this day it was a little different.
The shore break was nearly non existent. Smaller day I thought, and did not assess the current nor my physical prowess of the day.

Ocean worn found objects.
A sparrow on the zoo cage.
Fish scales close detail.

Over confidence boosted by over eagerness can cause an issue or two. Without realizing I swam out further than usual and not too long after I started to struggle. Exhaustion grew rapidly like never before and with each wave I had to duck my strength drained in heaps.

Then a thought hit me: this is how people drown. I recalled a news story about a recent mysterious drowning of an actress I had not known existed and my thinking, how could you drown in a ripple-less lake? Fear inflated instantly while my arms turned weighty rubber and I knew I was in trouble.
Then came another thought, this time with quiet, solid confidence I never knew I had:

I am not drowning here.

The next moment I felt the Guidance kicking in, and I turned on my back and floated to rest. But waves kept coming and I had to duck and duck and duck. There was only one other person on the stretch of the beach, and he, a surfer, was just getting in as I arrived, and was way over there to notice me.

Or so I thought. Few moments later I saw him walking across the shore closest to where I was as I called out “Help!!”, to which he responded swiftly.
Guidance strongly at work by then, and just as strong was the surfer who happened to be on the beach that day. As if automated I floated on my back again so as to receive help with least harm to this young man. He positioned himself between me and the horizon and gave several powerful pushes at my soles, like he would to a surfboard. Neither party said nothing, but the communication was in Perfect Flow.

Drying spider lily blossom.
Spider lilies blooming in the field.
Art work in progress.

What happened this day have been on my mind since. Thought about it many times where it went ‘wrong’ and what I can do in my future swim. I was fortunate, no doubt. Typing this I still feel my heart quicken.
Each time I go over though, this one point when I said “I am not drowning here” stands out as the pivotal one.
In my struggle I declared, intended from the very core of my existence. Calmly, firmly.
And with bottomless Mercy, Life responded accordingly.

Special shout out to Guidance, Mercy and the surfer I do not know the name of.

A bird feather.

Photos, from Top:
01: The beach.
02. Year of Rat rubber stamp, not quite there but I meant well.
03. At work, May.
09. Best picnic of the year – with my muse, red spider lilies, October.
10. The work, as of December 28. (Getting there.)
11. The best find of 2020.

Last Edited: 31Dec20

A red spider lily petal over shore at sunset.

The red mystery object is a close up of a red spider lily petal, which has been my muse for the project I’ve been working on called “Spider Lily Red” since 2012. Originally posted on “mood board” section of my website on November 11, 2020. Edit revised and published on February 27, 2021.

Previous version had a line “Beauty will save the world.” on it as a meme, and the layered ocean was more visible / vivid, i.e. too many things going on and it felt a bit “pushy”. The hand writing behind the petal is a journal entry from some time ago while I was “blocked” creatively. I wrote a bit about it on this post, not to be repetitive but: “Beauty will save the world.”

Last Edited: February 28, 2021.