Painting As the Castle Crumbles
As the Castle Crumbles…
The sandcastles continue to call. Their stoic stand against the tide appeals to a defiant romantic in me. Their fragility touches my own mortality. Their existence sings of nostalgia and the swift passage of time. Sandcastles inspire tears, joy, despair, and amusement. Such a silly thing to mesmerize me. I find joy in painting the memory of them. Soft, crumbling edges are more fun than hard lines. Rolling waves and transitioning color become a meditative process. I easily forget that I am painting the eventual destroyers of my sand protagonists. The war is waged without malice. No blood is shed – even the seaweed that mans the ramparts simply floats to a new resting place. Have I made peace with my mortality and the incoming tide? Probably not – the defiant romantic inwardly cheers for the little castles. Am I depressed by the eventual flattening of the sand? No, for I picture happy children, with buckets plain and castle-shaped, approaching the fresh sand. The tide makes way for new castles and new memories which brings me joy and keeps me painting.
Peace be with you!
Leigh