It started off being a sunny day today but when I arrived at the beach in the afternoon, the clouds obscured the sun's rays. I thought I could hang out in my bikini on the last day of 2011, but I had to put on my skinny jeans and green sweatshirt before I stepped onto the sand.
The surfers were out. I came to see them before the year ended. There was no other place I rather be. This is my anchor, my constant. Everything changes in my life, but I come here again and again. It's never the same, yet always familiar.
As I sat down on the wet sand, watching the surfers riding the waves and seagulls flying overhead, I felt the rhythmic motion of the waves. They came crashing close to me washing ashore the secrets of the sea. The waves will keep washing ashore rocks, crab shells, and seaweed.
It's yet another year, but that doesn't mean much. I don't need to measure time. It marches forward regardless.
cool breeze
white feather
from seagull
blowing in the wind
mesmerizes
time passes
unfeathering, untethering
colder, older
yet all the more beautiful
still
Life is simple by the sea. Under blue skies, I watched surfers paddle out on their surfboards to ride the waves. Most of them wait and wait, out at sea, until they catch one. They would get on top of it and ride it as far as they can, until the wave crashes and they fall down.
I forget about the stunning beauty that surrounds me. It's been awhile since I've been here. The seemingly endless sunshine, blue skies, perfectly toned and tan bodies, infectious smiles greeted me as I stepped barefoot onto the sand. I feel at home again.
Taking flight from their own piece of land in the middle of the ocean, the colony of seagulls flapped their wings and soared into the open air. I stood watching and listening in awe. Such freedom. Such spirits. They inspire flight in me. They create their own paradise just like I need to create mine. Paradise at sea. Paradise in my heart.
Before sunset, the horizon is breathtakingly beautiful, rainbow-like in its colors. The air feels cool. Bundled up in layers of clothes, I've come here again, in time to observe the end of another gorgeous day in Malibu. There is still hope and time to dream. Watching the continuous flow of water, I am taken back to a time of togetherness, spent with loved ones, thinking about loved ones. Through it all, the feelings remain. The flow of the ocean waves evokes longing, sadness, and contemplation.
Things are different now, though much remain the same. The love is still there. The sadness too. We try and try again, but we do things very much the same. People, places, and time change. We are unfulfilled. The aching longing leads us back again. We know the way home. Love. Joy. Peace.
Walking along the shore on a hot winter day in Malibu, I feel pure joy. All is beauty and love. Life is simple. Time is measured by the ebbing waves. I close my eyes and I hear the life around me. I smell the salty sea and my sunscreen that protects me from the sun's harsh, damaging rays. I haven't been here in a while, but I keep coming back.
As my feet dipped into the warm, clear sea water, I am mesmerized by the reflections. I am surprised by my own reflections. The changing, moving patterns that the current makes as it washes seaweed and rocks ashore fascinate me. In the dark corners, I find hidden treasures of shells and rocks, covered by moss. Everything changes all the time. Every moment is precious. Live in the moment. Cherish it.
It was not a typical hot beach day in Los Angeles, but since I have been venturing out towards the water every weekend, I didn't want to skip my visit. As I approached the water, I noticed a huge tree, uprooted, lying on its side. I felt sad. I descended the steps leading down to the water, holding on to the railing for support, against the strong gusts blowing at me.
Windy and cold, in the 60s, the water crashed upon the shore with much energy and vigor. The turbulent waves unsettled the seaweeds, crabs, and rocks from the ocean floor. Tossed upon the desolate beach, people and seagulls picked at their remains. They are the artifacts that give land creatures a glimpse into the life under the sea.
Walking close to the waves, I got my flip flips and cuffs wet. I enjoyed the sounds of the waves, each current different from the next. I noticed the foam that collected along the shore. It might be oil pollution that caused the foaming, as I looked out along the horizon and saw oil wells in the water. That's my guess. I was mesmerized by how pretty the foams looked against the radiant light. Fragile and reflective, they blew away quickly. How beautiful!
After a week of not being able to drive to the beach on a whim, I missed it terribly. Today I finally went and it was a bit of a homecoming. It was low tide when I got there. The rocks that the waves usually crash down on were exposed. Seagulls played hop scotch on them, looking for their next meal. Small kids followed their lead, as they skipped around from one mossy rock to another.
The seagulls and children brought out the child in me. I wanted to join them then, but I was too comfortable laying on my stomach, tanning. I was again in another string bikini, which in my boyfriend's words, "is quite a bikini." I'll leave it at that. I'll continue tanning...
Looking up at the sky and out into the vast blue ocean, I felt like I lived in a fish bowl. I felt the most relaxed and comfortable. The warm sand embraced me. I got lost in the magnificent love of the sun. I can't live without it. I can't get enough of it. Don't let the sun go down on me. Don't let the sun go down on me.
'Tis the summer of love, the summer of pain, and the summer of betrayal. 'Tis the summer of pushing things and people to the limit, and testing my own limits. What is gained? What is lost? I am not the same. We are not the same.
Yet, at my favorite playground, my favorite part of the coast, surfing is a constant. Perhaps that's what keeps me coming back. It gives me peace. With the sun blazing after a rainy day, the waves crash loudly and rhythmically along the sandy beach. Soothed and calmed by the sounds of the big blue sea, I laid on my beach towel and blanket wearing my sunflower-yellow bikini, reflecting on days gone by, on my indulgences, experimentations, and abandonment, and the meaning of my days.
Summer may have ended, but the sun continues to shine in L.A., and on me. It's not so bad. Now is a time of contemplation, of healing, of mourning, of rejoicing in love. After the betrayal, the hurt, and pain, love gives us hope, keeps us sane, and invigorates our soul. Love survives. We will prevail.
Lately, I've been focused on making videos. They are experimental, personal, and artistic. I often incorporate my writing with sound and video. I've been exploring the meaning of life, death, and rebirth in my work. Recently, I was asked to write about my motivations for making art. Here is my response.
"I make art because I want to live forever. Through art, I strive for immortality. Living is a selfish act. Art making is inherently selfish in that it's a form of preservation, the opportunity to be frozen in time. It serves as a way for me to explore my personal unconscious, hopefully, in the process, reveal some truth regarding the collective unconscious, themes that exist across time and culture. I explore my shadows, bringing parts of my hidden psyche into consciousness."
I created a video this month about my father whom I love and miss dearly. I live for him. I live because of him. I am becoming him.
