Sheep on the Water, and the Beach Experiments

Today one of the other residents in the studio said, "Hey, the wind stopped."  We three held our movements to listen, to make sure.  (Exhale.)  Peace.

During the Windy Time (and it deserves to be a title), there were sheep in the water.  Sheep are what the islanders call the whitecaps.  So, here are some sheep, and two sailboats, for you:

Some real animals other than dogs and cats here on the island are rats (that the cats eat); hedgehogs; weasels that suck the blood out of chickens (vampires, ugh); horses; donkeys; and goats.  There's an islander that they refer to as The Donkey Man.  Photographers use him a lot, it seems.  He has more than donkeys.  He and his wife have goats, donkeys, chickens, and some horses, all just over the hill from my apartment. 

And yesterday, I had a photo op with the donkey.  The Foundation lets him eat the shrubs around the building from time to time.  We were in a staredown:

The Donkey Man's wife is business-minded.  Although she's never on the premises, she rents the beach chairs at the beach where I go.  Which is a nice transition into the Beach Experiments part of my blog today.  First, let me show you where I go:

And this is the winding road I descend to get there:

Once I get there, it's deserted except for a few locals I pass on the way and maybe a Norwegian on vacation.  September is off-season here (how I like it).  Here are a few illustrations of the ghost town feel by my beach.

       

This is where I can safely play in the water.  At 5 pm when the sun is still warm and the swimmers have gone to their rooms, I take pieces I've made, float them, experiment with what kind of art I can possibly make in the powerful waves.  That's what I've been thinking about.  So, I go there everyday to listen for an answer.  I get one answer all the time, but it's beyond words. . . Today I made a rubbing of rocks at high tide, right at the edge of the water.  Getting soaked in my street clothes was a lot of fun and made me laugh out loud.  Somehow I feel vulnerable and known there by this thunderous, pounding water.  Not sure how that happens.  I just feel something.  It's very freeing. 

Other quick updates:  dinner and concert plans did not work out as we had hoped.  Instead we went to what I consider one step up from a really good Greek greasy spoon.  Another update:  I ran up a hill today (remember, 45 degrees!).  I had been running at home before I came and never thought I would here, but I couldn't stand not to anymore.  As I was taking a walk, I just started running.  It felt like a million bucks.  A few of us are surprised that we're not huffing and puffing anymore when we walk.

And, the best update:  I had a fantastic studio day.  I made and made and never judged my work as I was making it, not once.  It's the lesson I have to learn over and over, to accept my work and let it go, even as I am making it.  None of us is exempt from having to learn at least one lesson over and over, right?  Well, that lesson is mine.

A book that helped me with that today is The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo.  In it he says, Yours is to live it.  Not to reveal it.  (By the water I am reduced to watching and breathing.  No comprehending, just sensing.)

He also says, I would rather be fooled than not believe.  (My best days are when I'm a fool.  Today was one.)

Monasteries are on the agenda tomorrow.  Take care.