The Soft Roar of Waves

.

When is a beach scene not a beach scene?

The image above is my take on a familiar view from my childhood

not because we lived by the sea

as we lived in the hills

too far from the sea to see it

even though from the hills we could see far off into the horizon

it’s a scene from those windows on the walls known as paintings

which hung on every wall of our house

all painted by my father

my bedroom had a collection of his early work

painted long before I was born

I used to stare at them as I lay in bed

they told me bedtime stories

and there was one in particular which I knew was of a beach

but due to my father’s abstract impressionism

I could never figure out what was on the beach

and something large was on it

I could have asked him what it was

but

I wanted to figure it out for myself

because

the real beauty of art is in the journey we take in when we enter into the image

merging ourselves with the scene

.

.

“It was as if when I looked into his eyes I was standing alone on the edge of the world…on a windswept ocean beach. There was nothing but the soft roar of the waves.”
― Anne Rice

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