Monday, March 26, 2007

at dawn, at dusk,
that certain light creates an atmosphere of possibility, a temporal ambiguity.
Perhaps it's the obliqueness of the sun, or the feeling that the light is shining through glass,
that the moment becomes any place, any time, or just a flicker of memory.
Sometimes we find ourselves
elsewhere than where we really are.

Oil on Canvas 2006

Monday, March 12, 2007

Oh, if a tree could wander
and move with foot and wings!
It would not suffer the axe blows
and not the pain of saws!
For would the sun not wander
away in every night ?
How could at every morning
the world be lighted up?
And if the ocean's water
would not rise to the sky,
How would the plants be quickened
by streams and gentle rain?
The drop that left its homeland,
the sea, and then returned ?
It found an oyster waiting
and grew into a pearl.

Jalalud'din Rumi
(tr. Annemarie Schimmel)

watercolour "Varanasi"

Saturday, March 10, 2007

the shark net man.

Every morning he comes along in his dinghy to check the shark net.

The shark net is a curtain of steel rings, which start about three meters below the surface, all the way down to the deep. The buoys holding them up are just visible.

Swimming over the sharknet is a terrifying thing, a psychological boundary crossed.
Sharks can swim right over or under it too, and get themselves caught in the rings, which is awful, because they die.
Two years ago, there was a dead shark in the net, and its friend was circling round and round on the surface. The surf club chased it away in the boat, and pulled out the dead one.

A colony of bronze whalers lives inside this sharknet: I have seen them, they have seen me.
A pod of dolphins cross it to fish and play.

If the sharknet man stops his boat, I know there must be something trapped. He calls the trawler over, and together they haul it up. I try to see, but they are too small, really. I see the shark net man looking down and the trawler either pass or stop.

It has just turned Autumn.
When daylight saving ends, they will pack the nets away. For six months, it will be all clear to the open sea.

Thursday, March 8, 2007

never fails to amaze

It is but one small miracle,
and every time I witness it,
I never fail to be amazed.

The moon rises!
It shines a path on the sea!
And who was it looking at,
before it saw me?

when this fails to astonish me,
it's time for the sky to collapse.