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| Town Hall, Provincetown, 2011 |
Yes, this Yankee Farmer has deep Heartland roots, but it is the briny breezes of Cape Cod, where, at its very tip a sliver of land slips into the sea, that beckon me to join it. Each year this tiny fishing village, rich in whaling lore and legend, seduces me away from my creative crops in the city.
There is something inherently peculiar about a people that settle on a spit of land that is anything but settled. Folks that make this pilgrimage shutter the clutter of modern society and realign their senses to what is truly a miraculous dialogue.
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| Cape Cod, 2011 |
Twice a day, heaven & earthly elements commune and tidal marsh is the stuff of conversation between sea and salt and land and air and moon and stars.
Along its belching, bubbling banks, I scoop the frothy mix, collecting the essence of land and sea and for a moment, there between my mortal hands, oceans of time gather, swell and sink. In that moment a wondrous journey drains between the lattice of my flesh and blood. A journey traversed between the brightest solar highs and the blackest canyon depths.
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