Moving Locations on Galiano

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As you may have read in my previous post, I have had the ultimate pleasure of staying the last couple of months in a glass house by the sea. It has been a life changing time, inspiring, peaceful and thought provoking. I have been learning about myself, the world, god and the universe. While doing all this I have also managed to do 52 drawings, over a dozen patterns and started on the production of my collection. To say the least it has been a magical time.

The very first night I arrived at the house, I was sipping a glass of wine and looking out over the ocean. Amongst the debris on the beach, I noticed in the moonlight something that looked like an old or cloaked figure. Immediately I felt panic, as I was still suffering from an incurable fear of the dark. I shouted into the misty shadows “hello.. hello?” and of course no answer.

In the bright glorious morning I went down to inspect the old woman, only to realize in the day light that it was a tree, uprooted on its side.. and it was the roots in the shadows that had appeared as a figure. I gazed at the installation.. it was tonnes of roots, all twisted together, woven with bits of kelp and sea weed, little black shells, it was such a beautiful entanglement. I stroked the wood and it felt as soft as flesh…. I sat down next to the roots on the log and dangled my feet in the ocean for many minuets.

Time passed, i’m not sure how long exactly, but it doesnt really matter I suppose. The important thing is that I felt something real, something true just sitting on that log. There are no words that could fully describe the ulitmate contentment I felt, or the magical moment that occured…. it just was.

Every morning since that day I awoke to my beautiful tree, and at night I could walk out to her without being afraid. I would go join my old cloaked friend and imagine mysteries and tales long into the night. I have spent many hours sitting on my log, wind whipping about and am sad to say that my time there has come to a close.

My glass house friend is arriving shortly for a lengthy stay over the Christmas holidays and I have found elsewhere to reside for the next couple of months. I arrived at the glass house today to finish up some de-dogging and cleaning that needed to be done amidst an intense storm. The power has flickered on and off already afew times and I have filled the bathtub with water in case of emergancy and I need to stay one more night here. Looking out the kitchen window I can see waves crashing so intensly on the small shore that it is almsot frightning, the ocean is so powerful and has so much energy…. I’m looking around what has become a familair scene to me, bird poo island (which is coverd in tide at this point), the outline of the shore, hordes of drift wood dancng in the rough surf and then I look for my old friend… I can’t see her. I am looking up and down the shore for any sign of my beautiful stranger and I cant find her anywhere, my heart feels a tug, I think of all the moments we had spent. All the quiet knowingness that passed between nature and human over the last 2 months and I think .. I NEED HER… and I feel upset at first that she is gone.

After minuets of straining to see if I can pick her out of the debris on the ocean, I realize she is gone. I take this moment and realize that one time has ended and another has begun. My cloaked freind, my nightly companion has been carried out to sea, the waves have ravaged her and thus it is time for me to move on. I have conquerd my indelible fear of the dark, in fact made friends with the night.. and now it is time to continue on the path of goodness, love, truth and creativity.

I wave goodbye to the tree that was so beautiful it almost brings tears to my open eyes.

thank you cloaked friend. thank you glass house. onward and upward from here.

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10 thoughts on “Moving Locations on Galiano

  1. Hi Kim,
    It was a pleasure meeting you the other day and thanks again for the ride. I really liked reading your last post, especially about the uprooted old woman (tree). I had a somewhat comical experience this past summer with some large pieces of “someone’s” driftwood that I kind of accidentally set free. I was visiting the property where my dog died for the first time in a few years and ended up drinking my whole 6 pack of beer on the rock landing there, and trying to make a ladder to climb back up on the rocks from the water I accidentally let some big driftwood logs slip into Trincomali (sp?) Straight beyond retrieval. I have (or had) permission to visit there but I may have upset the landowner who is a painter of nature (including driftwood probably). I feel bad but I tell myself that driftwood was meant to drift, I set it free to possibly be found on another shore by another artist. I could write many more anecdotal stories that fill my mind regarding your blog and what I’ve heard and read about your experience here on the island, but my “comment” is probably already to long(?)

    Matt

  2. Hey Kim,
    52 drawings. The number 52 – 52 weeks in a year and the age that ancient east Indian and some Native Indian tribes believe that you need to reach before you become a mature adult. Did you do 52 drawings intentionally?

    33 ways to enlightenment

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