Some mornings the island seems to belong more in the world of Shakespeare’s The Tempest than the present day Caribbean. I came upon an offering of sea riches from Caliban.
The beach, strewn with a multitude of coral, shells, and rocks, reminded me of Ariel’s song:
Full fathom five thy father lies:
Of his bones are coral made:
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Of his bones are coral made:
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
x
There is a strange sense of isolation being on the islands, don’t you think? the kind of isolation that forces you to rethink things? At least that is my perception. What say you fair lady.
Your art is great! I love how you can capture things so beyond ourselves. I think you would really connect tot his project: http://www.lastvoices.com. check out their photography section! or their facebook photos http://www.facebook.com/lastvoicesmusic
Wow, what a gorgeous place to live! That is quite a treasure trove.
Yes, very much so. Isolation, island fever, island time, just knowing I’m surrounded by water on all sides makes me look out to the horizon as if I expect to see land appear. It can be very freeing though…even if some mornings it appears a tad melancholy.
Thanks, katerade, I’ll have a look at that.
Oh, maccandace, I was so surprised to happen upon it in that desolate place–it made it more special somehow.