Uncontradicting solitude / Supports me on its giant palm; /And like a sea-anemone /Or simple snail, there cautiously / Unfolds, emerges, what I am. – Philip Larkin

My spirit is revitalized by solitude. As the poet said there are no contradictions. It is simply my unrestricted mind roaming in seclusion. Perhaps that it why I enjoy walking along the wrack line (the line of debris deposited on the beach at the tideline). There are so many things to poke and prod along the way. For me it is like browsing in a bookstore. Transitory tableau offer mysterious tales born beneath the throbbing deep while wreck and revelation abound.

The inanimate stir a lively spirit of artistic inspiration. There in nature one finds the fundamental elements of all art. An uprooted tree becomes a prancing steed or eight-legged beast posing proudly. Momentary flights of fancy can easily be imagined atop such a chimera of wood and wonder. The unaccompanied imagination skips away to find another fascination while the soul communes humbly with nature.

Wandering the sand, I stumble upon absurd scenes of conceptual art reminiscent of Marcel Duchamp or surrealistic assemblages of Salvador Dali. There embedded within the objects, disgorged by the tides, is a fundamental aspect of art itself – raw and unrefined finesse. An unaffected subtly expresses the qualities of nature sought after years of meditative practice. These inspiring moments connect me to the sacred artistry of the Universe and to the Creator of All.

Just as the lines in my face and thinned hair mark maturity, so do these storm tossed organic artworks display the natural cycle of all living matter. Understanding this link to mortality brings increased appreciation for all life. Able to be thankful for the past and acknowledging the future, increases my insight into what I am, and what we all are – finite beings. One day those who love us will sort our belongings and commemorate us with beautiful and sometimes absurd memories. Until that time, live as the real you whether in togetherness or in solitude. As Emerson said, To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.
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