She came to the water





                                                              She went to the water to fill up her vessels,

                                                              Her veils fell on the ground near,

                                                              Soon, the emptiness was far… 

      

                                                                                                   *     *     *


 I was always drawn to water. Of different kinds. It would probably be a lengthy project to delve into my thoughts and feelings and create some palpable explanations of what it is that makes the water so magic (at least for me). Of course, I know that most people like water. Something that a philosophy professor said during a lecture, sometime during my undergrad years, stood with me: he said that the magnificent art of the ancient Greece was owed to the blue color of the Mediterranean Sea; he explained afterwards that living near such beautiful waters bestowed a greater flow of creativity upon the people that had such privilege. Since then, life brought me close to different bodies of water, and not once I discovered the thriving artistic communities near by. So, the beauty of water might have the power to cause the creation of another one, like an echo effect…

 

*     *     *


Lately, we keep on returning to Lake Tahoe for a short summer vacation. I am not exactly a morning person, but on vacation I tend to wake up early, while everybody else still twists and turns sometime between their last morning dream, and their first glance of the day. Swimming suit, beach kaftan, flip-flops, and to the lake with me— usually just a few steps  away from our room! 

The water is cold, but slowly I overcome the shocking sensation and embrace the water. Shortly after, it feels warmer. Then, it’s just me and the water…I wade through it and enjoy its elusive physicality. I am all wet and love it. I like its smell and think it’s just the smell of clean. I imagine that such cleanliness invades my whole body, and mind too. I see the sky above and it’s almost overwhelming to have such wide and unobstructed view of it— I am like being shrouded in water and sky. In blue. I realize that I’m totally rejuvenated, deep to the inner particles of my being. I feel like a conqueror in the victory morning. And perhaps, I am a conqueror after all— the conqueror of my own life.

Soon enough, more people are coming to the lake. I find a moment to observe them: they woke up and are getting ready for a new day at the lake. Beach activities commence— kids play, boats preparation, paddling… I hear a distant murmur from some of these activities, but this sound gets lost in the general silence of the lake. After all, I can only hear the rippling sound of the waves. I am going back to the vastness of blue before me and I can dream… Sometimes the blue of the water is pretty similar to the blue of the sky and that of the distant mountains, that the horizon line offers only a delicate separation. So, one just feels lost in a blue space, spotted here and there with some blacks, and whites, or reds, from the people and boats around. I am trying to memorize colors and contrasts whose relationships  I would later use in possible paintings. Whatever beauty may be in such a sight, I want to take it in. A while after, I’m breaking the water embrace, and return to the room.


Comments

  1. David July 14, 2021 at 9:02 AM

    Sa încerci noaptea. Și dimineața înainte de răsărit .

    ReplyDelete
  2. cara forestieriJuly 22, 2021 at 9:27 PM

    Acum vad, nu am mai intrat demult pe aici. Da, noaptea, mă gândeam și eu...

    ReplyDelete
  3. David September 6, 2021 at 2:01 PM

    Hehe ai fost ocupată cu noul tau site.

    ReplyDelete

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