I was born near the mountains, in Piedmont, and was a sickly child until we moved to a port town and my ailments suddenly disappeared.
I only learned to swim when I was 17 but I've never been afraid of water. Even now, going to the beach and diving into the waves remains an almost transcendental experience to me.
Thank you for this fascinating story about how different art forms interpret the sea. I thought of Fitzgerald, and Tender is the Night, as well as Gatsby. The sea is on the periphery there as a witness to human drama. He also has a beautiful metaphor at the end of Gatsby about how the current always brings us to our past.
I'm a bit sea-obsessed, I think. Shetland is such a small group of islands that you never be far from the sea here and you can hear it a lot of the time when it's out of sight. I walk to the sea when I have too much in my head, when I'm processing life, when I need to breathe. It's magnitude makes me feel small but connected to the rest of the world and my cultural heritage, the people who travelled and made a living that way through fishing in particular. I have a healthy respect for the sea, like you said with growing up next to it you have to develop that to stay safe. I love how it changes with the weather, I love seeing wildlife in and around it and I love that I love so close it to. I don't think I make sense without the sea, somehow. For sea-related books, I'd recommend anything George Mackay Brown's work (an Orkney poet and author) and The Silver Darlings by Neil M Gunn (a historic novel about the harsh reality of the sea for herring fishermen and the landlords that mare life on land crueler still.) This is such a lovely piece - thank you for sharing, Kathleen, I really enjoyed reading it this morning! 🌊
I was born near the mountains, in Piedmont, and was a sickly child until we moved to a port town and my ailments suddenly disappeared.
I only learned to swim when I was 17 but I've never been afraid of water. Even now, going to the beach and diving into the waves remains an almost transcendental experience to me.
You seem to love movies, like me, so you probably know this famous beach scene https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4jGNoag_1g
Thank you for this fascinating story about how different art forms interpret the sea. I thought of Fitzgerald, and Tender is the Night, as well as Gatsby. The sea is on the periphery there as a witness to human drama. He also has a beautiful metaphor at the end of Gatsby about how the current always brings us to our past.
I'm a bit sea-obsessed, I think. Shetland is such a small group of islands that you never be far from the sea here and you can hear it a lot of the time when it's out of sight. I walk to the sea when I have too much in my head, when I'm processing life, when I need to breathe. It's magnitude makes me feel small but connected to the rest of the world and my cultural heritage, the people who travelled and made a living that way through fishing in particular. I have a healthy respect for the sea, like you said with growing up next to it you have to develop that to stay safe. I love how it changes with the weather, I love seeing wildlife in and around it and I love that I love so close it to. I don't think I make sense without the sea, somehow. For sea-related books, I'd recommend anything George Mackay Brown's work (an Orkney poet and author) and The Silver Darlings by Neil M Gunn (a historic novel about the harsh reality of the sea for herring fishermen and the landlords that mare life on land crueler still.) This is such a lovely piece - thank you for sharing, Kathleen, I really enjoyed reading it this morning! 🌊