I’m not home-sick, because I am at home. What I am is sea-sick, in the same way as home-sick works. I miss it. I miss it because I am feeling blue. When I’m low, I need the sea to bring me home to me. I don’t want to be on it, I am a land lubber, but I want to immerse myself in the zenness of it. Trapped in anxiety and worry about a myriad of domestic trivia, I want to escape to the vastness of the ocean and the sky. Its what makes the world realisable to me. In the reality that I am in the middle of the U.K., and unlikely to be seeing the sea for some time, I have reverted to the next best thing – memory and photographs. Just playing with these images in Photoshop nudges me back into feeling some sort of creative thrust. I think the current preferred term is ‘flow’. I I’ll go with that. Go with the flow. Nice.
moving in time 