Painting the
sea places the ocean inside of me, with me, constantly, concretely and
metaphorically. A few grains of sand fall out each time I extend the legs
of the aluminum travel easel. The sweet and salty smell of those last three
misty days at Ponquogue (months ago) emanates from my canvas bag. Yes,
the sea has gotten inside my things and inside me as well. There is nothing
so healing, nor so comforting, as the sight and sound of the waves. When
most folks have gone home at the end of the day, and the light is absolutely
perfect with a sort of violet and turtle colored composition that only
Nature can create--That is the time I like to get up out of my chair and
put on my overalls, ready to put to canvas or paper each full breath of
ocean air I've taken in, each long thought in the sun, and each sweet drop
of briny water I've accidently swallowed.
~Viola Moriarty
(For an online gallery of complete works for this series, please click on the link to the left.)
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