If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I was born with an ocean soul. Wherever I roam, I'm happiest by the sea. This was proven to me when I saw myself as a young child in an 8mm film, excitedly running and splashing in waves at the beach. You might say that's not unusual for a child, but it was for me. I was told I had a very calm, quiet, and shy demeanor. Enthusiastically frolicking in the sand was definitely not my modus operandi.
Forward a number of decades later, and the ocean still has that effect on me. It moves me in ways I don't fully understand, but move me it does. The roar of crashing waves, the low hiss as they ebb back out to sea, rushing, salty wind dancing around my skin—sea poetry penned by nature. A feast for the senses like no other. It pulls me like a current, my emotions turning like the tide—high and low, agonist and antagonist. And like the ocean itself, moods and emotions change from dark and stormy tidal waves of sadness and tropical depression, to the calm in the eye of a hurricane, and the awe of a sunrise at sea so beautiful it makes one ache.
One way to capture these sensations is to write. I've traded the pail and shovel of my youth for pen and paper, and build castles with words these days instead of sand. Sometimes they don't come together, and sometimes they stick. And those you'll find here on these webpages.
Thanks for visiting. I hope you return again soon!
Aerwyna
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