Diving In

This past weekend I spent time underwater;  I love being underwater.  It is quiet and I cannot see very clearly, so looking is easy.  Artists look at things intensely, we are trained in looking; it can be exhausting.  In the Atlantic at the Jersey shore, the water is a murky, ochre green and all I could see was color and darkish green blobs on the bottom; occasionally an out of focus collection of pebbles would appear. Above water, I could see the mass of the waves and a far horizon. The waves would lift and drop me and I laughed and laughed. Diving into the larger swells, allowed me to minimize their frightening mass and force.  I felt vital. Vital is an amazing feeling for someone who has once been close to death;  the sea is all about vitality, and mortality.  I love the water.

Yesterday, was a wonderful day. After I returned to suburbia, I spent time with an old friend and with her family. We discussed art, art, art, life, mourning and helping people mourning... We laughed and we were serious, I learned new things and shared ideas with them. We had a wonderful lunch and a wonderful dinner. Our time was useful and dynamic.

There is nothing so marvelous in the world as unrestricted time with dear friends; it has been a long time. Like diving into the sea to feel embraced and soothed, by diving into their company I have returned to my own skin.

I slept completely peacefully last night.