The Ocean Is My Muse

After an hour of body surfing in the crashing waves, my bathing suit, arms and legs are covered with sand. But I don't care. I never care about that. Spending time in the ocean nourishes me. I squint and look west. It's that special time at the end of the day when the afternoon sun is just beginning to be swallowed up by the sea. The time when the light and all the clouds are shape-shifting into a full spectrum of mandarin orange and rose-gold miracles. The time when all of Key Largo is politely sipping cocktails, watching the sun and searching for answers. I am searching too.

The sunlight sprinkles diamond dust into the shallow, quiet tide pool and it glitters from here to eternity. I move closer. A gentle breeze ripples across the water and I notice two mini hermit crabs carrying their purple and white striped houses on their backs. Not exactly the Debra Kerr and Burt Lancaster beach scene... but this duo will do. The pair marches higher and higher over several glistening rocks covered with slippery, bright, chartruse-green algae. I'm totally entertained as they continue to amble and scramble along with their homes wobbling to the left and right. Why are they moving so fast? Why don't they stop and just rest? Maybe they're heading back to their crabitat.

Nearby, wrapped around another kelp covered rock in the tide pool, I discover a persimmon orange starfish Ah haa! That's why the tiny crabs are high tailing it away! The starfish (their predator) is just too close for comfort! Perfect. I announce to myself. This is my visual gift from the heavens today and this will be my inspiration for one of my next collage paintings. Mission accomplished.

Morning. Splerk, splat and squish...my tubes of Windsor Newton watercolor paints are squirted onto my huge, white, plastic palette. I squeeze the robin's egg, ultramarine, Agean sea blues near each other. Bumble bee and corn yellows go side by side. The sage, sap, viridian family of greens sit close together. Finally the variety of scarlet, bordeaux, and crimson reds rest near the iris, violet and berry purples. My palette gets organized into simple color groups for easy mixing. More importantly, my mind gets organized to be fluid.

I always remember that water seeks it's own path, so being "one" with the flowing paints is the ultimate goal each day. Being present at every second may sound impossible or even absurd, but in fact that must happen in order to achieve great watercolor paintings. It's about focus and flow. I learned this by watching the Chinese and Japanese scroll painting masters. Be the water.

Woooosshh. I drag my 4 inch house painting brush, loaded with blues across the wide expanse of the archival paper mat board. I let it do what it wants to do but I guide it here and there with a wiggle and a pull. This stage is always so satisfying and it's just the beginning. I spread more paint. Another short woosh this time and the painting speaks to me. It wants more aqua marine and I make it happen.

Now, it's time for my hairdryer. Yes, you heard me correctly. My hairdryer. Sometimes, when I want to move more quickly on the base coat of a painting, I simply use it to speed up my process. It allows me to continue forward and stay in the moment of my painting. Otherwise, I would need to wait many minutes for the puddles of paint to dry.

After drying the base coat, I continue the routine of adding more cut shapes in a variety of colors, each to emulate or represent some natural inhabitants of the deep sea. My brushes are now temporarily put aside. The foundation of the painting has been set. I evaluate my progress with several minutes of contemplation and press the recharge button.

Remember the television ads from years ago where there was a lovely woman in a bathtub filled with soap bubbles, and she says in a dreamy voice, "Calgon, take me away!" Well, in my best dreamy voice I say, "where will my FISKARS take me today?"

Gone are the simple days with two shear choices: straight edge or pinking. Say hello to the new world of "squiggle scissors" (my fun name)! There's the ripple, the victorian, the wave, the scallop, and the zig zag too. Moving right along, I morph into "happy scissor hands." Yes, really! It's a little cray cray, but I rapidly start cutting and snipping using the variety of scissors. Lots of random sheets of colorful paper are flying or being chewed and savored by the shears. I'm not cutting bazaar, rogue shapes, but shapes that could easily represent underwater flora and fauna. My mind continues as if I am snorkeling in the Carribean. I conjure up conger eels (edible eels like in sushi) with long curving strokes of my shears. I clip some sea urchins and anemones too. Next, I think about strands of kelp and skinny green seaweed. To the untrained eye, it looks as though I have achieved a grand pile of everything that belongs in a waste basket. But I know different and that's all that matters.

I spread all of the flotsam and jetsam around the painting. Tweezer alert! The icky sticky gluing stage is about to begin. Picking and placing, ripping and shredding, tearing and praying that I've made the correct placement tortures me for the next few hours. Finally, cathedral bells ring. I'm done! Time to prop the collage painting on the easel, critique it, make minor adjustments and appreciate the results.

My love for painting the ocean started when I was very young. I was born in Florida. The collage painting began years ago after college, when I was dissatified with several paintings so I ripped and cut them apart. I saw all the scraps on my work table and I realized, "hey these cast aways are really cool, too!" So I added them to my paintings. My shears became my best friend (in a good way) and they opened up an entire world of possibilities for me. What started out as an accidental wipeout, turned into a focal point in my life.

Both of my parents mentored me in creative ways. I recognize that I am one of the lucky ones and I am so grateful. I learned at a very early age how to entertain myself and bring happiness into my little being especially when I was alone in my room. Making art and studying art added so much more to my life. I would only be half a peach if I didn't have art.

Of course there were still many moments throughout my adult life that looked difficult, bleak, and at times insurmountable (like the suicide/death of my first ex-husband). Having my creativity card in my back pocket always allowed my spirit to rise above the temporary tempests.

Deep inside, we all have abilities to be creative beings. As adults, we seem to want to reach out of our immediate bubbles to make clever statements beyond ourselves. I am still exploring beaches each day and riding the waves within my artistic work. Some things will never change. For me, the equation is simple. Creativity equals happiness.