Tears crowded the corner of my eyes as I stood looking at the sailboat stranded on the rocks. The moon shone off its body as waves gently brushed against its side as if to comfort and to soothe.
I remember the silence. The sound of the waves whispering as they brushed against the sand – the cold sand upon which I stood. The site of this boat, the boat meant for the wind and the waves and the open water, touched my heart in ways that I never would have anticipated.
I felt sad, perhaps even a touch of grief. The sorrow that comes from deep within; the sorrow that comes when seeing something very out of place or far removed from its natural space. This boat needed to be sailing. It was meant for open spaces and wind and water and movement.
This graceful boat, stranded on rocks, on a cold winter night along the coast of one of America’s most beautiful cities. Today, 15 years later, the image touches my heart in ways that I am unable to describe. It is an image that I have wanted to paint since that very moment and yet…
And yet, I am not sure that I could ever capture in color or in words the sadness and the beauty of that scene. I am not sure that I could replicate everything that existed in those few moments.
Alone the boat stood, in the water, waves soothing, moon streaming… It stood alone on the rocks. It touched my heart. The image remains strong in my memory. Perhaps I am, at times, that beautiful sailboat, stranded on rocks, soothed by waves, highlighted in moonbeams, remaining strong and graceful despite the circumstances.