Touching the sea

I love the sea.

It is my sweet obsession, my passion, but also one of my biggest fears. I am lousy when it comes to being on a boat or a ferry. Wobbling on the high waves! OMMI it is awful for me, my brain, it moves everything in me…

Scary feeling.

But still. For me the sea is the purest painting. The biggest art. Changing all the time. Having its moments and also phases, but still, with the sea you never know. Just never… what it will be.

It hides colors inside and shapes, creatures and surprises… hides the mighty unknown and this what is so obvious and still, we find it amazing.

Weird even.

When I go to touch it, smell it, feel it… I never know what is waiting for me. A sunny day does not mean a calm surface. Somehow it may be not windy on my island, still the sea touching a half of it may be very angry. And the other half may be calm… waiting for its turn maybe, or something more?

Some people prefer the mountains.

Not me. Somehow they scare me more, they suffocate me, hurt me, I can not breath and my heart gets wobbly… I need the sea to breath. I need all those sounds, pooping seagulls and of course seaweeds. All those colors and shapes. The sun playing on those small stones, pointing out where to look… playing with those air baubles, with reflections of everything above it. Like it knew. I mean everything. Was aware of everything and of course also could do everything. Like the whole wisdom was hidden under this gentle surface. Every question and every answer.

Sometimes I think I want the sea to keep it there. Not to know, be not only unaware but maybe even stupid? Because knowledge is sometimes too much.

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