Thursday, April 14, 2011

All At Sea

When returning home after a trip,

do you ever have the feeling that you're all at sea?

That you're not exactly sure which way is up?

Like maybe you're looking through a window into a world that's not really your own?

A vague sensation of not being able to focus on where you are
or where you've been: 
Neither here nor there.

Maybe you've been dazzled by the bright lights of a big city

and had to leave them all behind; 

and now, chasing after the tail end of your memories that twinkle and fade like stars,

you let your mind drift through what was and what  may be,
not quite able as yet to swim into the present moment of what is. 


  1. Very surreal! Like swimming in a Dali painting,although I think that might not be such a great idea ....... too disturbing!

    The first image is really beautiful.

    Happy weekend!

  2. I guess it's all about a sense of belonging, isn't it?

    What is it that gives the sense of attachment? Where can I make a positive difference in the life of a person, family or community that I care for?

    I hope the water runs clear soon.

    WV - meougg - the cat has laryngitis

  3. You have perfectly pictured that weird, vague, off-balance sensation you get upon returning home after a long trip. Gorgeous! (And funny, too.)

  4. outstanding entry of yours. chapeau !

    daily athens

  5. Forest Dream Weaver,
    Swimming through a Dali painting would be more like drowning,I think! I hope your weekend goes swimmingly well, too.

  6. DCW,
    Yes, you nailed the fish to the floor with that observation. A sense of belonging...that is the missing ingredient for me. Nevertheless, the friendly Atlantic "Glad to see ya agin" that you provided in the previous comment box does indeed provide some consolation.

    meogg?...either cat laryngitis or a hairball. Hard to tell them apart (the hairball and the cat).

  7. jann,
    Funny? And here I thought I was being DEEP!

  8. Robert,
    Thank you thank you!
    Besten Dank (I hope Google gave me the right phrase).

  9. Learn a lesson from fish in a no-escape aquarium -- they make the most of it.

  10. Shirl,
    Hmmm...very philosophical. An aquatic take on "bloom where you're planted." Are you trying to tell me that I should find contentment in swimming around in circles within the glass walls of my Atlantic fish tank rather than trying to swim my way back upstream through the wild currents to my Pacific spawning grounds?

  11. On a SCALE of one to 3 (and I'm sure you're not FISHING for compliments) I FINk this is a great post and give it a ten, loving the photos very much, and yes making the most of a situation is sound advice indeed. Bottoms up!

  12. Yes, that is a true metaphor for arriving from one culture into another! The photos are really creative--unfocused, dazzling, twinkling: who wouldn't be spinning? Let your mind spin and ventually drift up... xxox

  13. oh this is fantastic, i love fish (i am one :-) and have got one small veiled fish for myself recently, i am still learning how to take care of him, i am completely mesmerized every time i look at him...
    i have been pondering whether to show him on the Bridge but now i feel both encouraged to and shy, you set a very high standard here, with these dreamy, almost abstract compositions!

  14. Saj,
    Well you're certainly no fish out of water when it comes to making the most out of a situation and trying to make things go swimmingly so I know there's nothing fishy about your comments.
    Speaking of fishy, have you noticed that there's been a sharking silence emanating from a certain amphibian who hasn't been seen paddling in the blog waters for awhile now? You don't suppose he's gone off the deep end do you, or that he's swimming with the fishes?
    Is that a fishbowl you're drinking from, or your regular glass of white wine?

  15. Margaret,
    It is almost like arriving from one culture to another, even though only travelling from the west coast to the east coast of Canada! There's the 4 hour time difference, plus the seasonal lag. I will follow your advice to let my mind drift and hope my body will catch up with it before too much longer.

  16. Roxana,
    So, you're a fish? That could mean that you're a good swimmer, you love the water, your sun sign is Pisces, or you're a mermaid! Possibly all of the above?

    I once had 2 goldfish when I was a small child and I named them Fish and Chip. Sadly, they did not last long as the tap water wasn't appropriate. My daughter had a few angel fish in a large tank for quite awhile & they were fascinating and beautiful to watch.

    Aquariums are so hypnotic. These photos were taken in a restaurant where there were two enormous tanks that were connected with an overhead glass tube for the fish to travel from tank to the other. I could have stayed there for hours, but we weren't actually dining in the place, just rubber-necking at the fish.

    You have a veiled fish? I imagine a demure damsel with red lips and a jaunty little chapeau with polka-dot veil! You must post photos!

  17. Mr. Toad (ze toad français)18 April, 2011

    It is possible that the sense of disorientation may come from failing to have followed all of the recommended travelling tips laid out in the first of Douglas Adams' books, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy... namely, and most importantly, did you have your towel with you at all times ? Travelling without a towel can lead to all manner of complications and convolutions.

    We trust you have by now managed to climb back out of your aquarium, where apparently you fell in, probably while stumbling around in the dark at home after failing to find the light switch, whose whereabouts you may have forgotten while away for so long. One forgets so much when one travels, as the immediate reality of strange places becomes entirely captivating and banishes all memories to the dark archives of long term storage...

    Welcome home, from afar, do towel yourself off, you must be dripping after your session with the mermaids...

    PS Am still alive, barely, after an encounter with a toxic cloud of gas... which invaded my life out of a blue sky... more soon...

  18. Monsieur le Toad,
    Je suis très contente d'apprendre que t'es encore en vie! Hanging out in that chemical soot and detritus over on your blog for the past several days could have done you irreparable harm, due to the acute sensitivity of toad skin, which tends to absorb airborne toxins. You, too, would be well-advised to carry a towel with you at all times. For example, it would have been handy for you to put it over your head as soon as you perceived the arrival of the noxious cloud.

    "the immediate reality of strange places becomes entirely captivating and banishes all memories to the dark archives of long term storage..." Hmmm...yes, out of sight if not quite out of mind. Out of my mind. Out of the mouths of babes and toads...not to insinuate that I consider myself a "babe"!

    I must have water on the brain: please excuse my babbling. Normal programming will resume shortly.

  19. Water on the brain ? Or white wine ? Well, whatever, both produce similar effects....

    MMFfffllllmgggmmmmmflllggggg... that's me trying to murmur a message through the wet towel that is now firmly wrapped around my head... gosh, I hope it helps.

    So you actually came from a spawning ground... that is interesting. Glad you made it back to the sea without getting grabbed by a hungry bear.

    Hmmm, is it this towel that is acting like a conch shell ? I think I can hear the mermaids singing...

  20. BrO,
    I only wish it was white wine. Cost saving measures in effect. Though I do seem to be getting a nice little buzz from the fish food I've been nibbling on. Maybe that was me you heard humming.

    French, unpour the wine
    English, what a lawyer advises a client to do if the client is dissatisfied with his wife

  21. Such a lovely and wistful post. The colours and sense of motion are quite enchanting.

  22. Hilary,
    Thanks so much! Lovely to SEA you here.