Shapes

On a calm beach, here they are.

Creations, arts… amazing pieces of ready to hang on sculptures.

Impressions.

Or just signs?

Maybe hidden language?

Maybe a message from those living deep under the sea? Having fun, wanting us to know, that they are there, but still unheard.

Maybe…

Maybe there is so much more than just waves on the sand? Frozen a bit, hard and screaming to be noticed?

Or maybe silent?

Beautiful, like this softest sand ever. White and amazing.

Or just… sand? Nope, this can it not be. Never. I always need more.

Always.

They are so perfect.

So regular, but also so unique. So natural, but still… we copy them so often. In art, in just tires. In… so many.

There is something calming in those creations. Something so ancient. Those before us saw them too. Maybe played with them, maybe understood them so much better? I just play with them… this is the only thing I know how to deal with.

PS. Shapes of the natural sand…

They happen. But not so always as you could think, really. But they do happen. If you let our biggest, widest beach be wild, cold, and let the sky cry… it happens.

Or after storms. It can be really shocking, if you see it. And that sound somewhere… and those waves always so possible… so ready to wet your butt or anything else. Sorry, but if you lie down, you are just sanded.

Totally.

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