The Sea - Blog Posts

Lego MOC ship

French Frigate "Saint Germain" - PART 1

designed by TS Kang

Instagram - @art_house_colts

You may enjoy the ship’s short video on my YouTube with a beautiful music of ‘violin concerto’ by Jean Marie Leclair.

My sea of watercolors: page one of my first watercolor sketchbook! [08/27/2022]

I’ll be posting these a couple times a week until I run out of my hoard of watercolors.

Martin's domain

Apparently I can only draw martin and micheal because whenever I try to draw someone else the drawing ends up either bad or one of them.

Joseph Severn (1793-1879), Caulking the Schooner, Falmouth Harbour.

Pictures I took

today's warm up: you'd think, the ocean loving you, would make you feel small, a minnow in her wake, but no. Out of the world, she loves you? That makes you big.

The Sea (c. 1865) - Gustave Courbet

Depths of despair

What is the sea, and what are its waves ? It flows, bile in my mouth - all hands on deck !

My mind’s in high tide and my tired heart caves

Inside my salt-spiked bones, my old ribbed shipwreck. Is it true that the world will be doomed when it boils ? My blood bubbles and roars and gushes through gorges

As sea serpents gorge themselves, my soul tight in their coils

The water hisses and fusses like a sword maker forges

And cools the red iron in the dark doubtful depths. My own surface, blurred, clouds and sparkles and spits. My face, my stomach churns, which tilts my ship and steps

My eyes, sleek sea glass cry again, and my tattered tooth grits

The chapped sun-dried shore of my pouty, shut lips. In my hollow clammy chest I feel things clank and crash

And my threatening thoughts are such perilous trips

They’re unmapped ; I get out with a bang and get out with a splash. Though now my tumbled brain’s encrusted in a pearl

As I’ve held it close and I’ve soothed it harshly. The sailors - my neurons - mind the ballots they hurl

So my mind washes up jewel-like fish, lively

And metallic. Then the wind of my cries’ settling 

I tame my high horse and Kelpies stop the race Like my pulse. Sweetened, the sirens sing

And lulled, my psyche, the blade, dulls, turns to grace. I can rest, still sailing, though sea-sick

And tell the storm’s tale to my old friend the moon

Who crowns my velvet skies with the starlight’s pinprick

And whispers through my masts “Goodbye and sea you soon”

little original poem of which i submitted a shortened form to a contest

A trip to the sea