From my perch on top of the dunes, I watched the clouds contrive to trap the light. Their strategy was clear... divide and conquer. Half went to designing a parapet, a great wall of scallops, thick and profound, while the other half launched as a fine organza across the sky. Irresistible to touch, the clever clouds named their device Rapture and set it. And the light fell for it. Caressing the vapours and falling through the weave, the lustre found its end on the billows below. The ocean had no issue on this particular day having laboured through the dark to trap the night sky... and in mock submission brought tray after tray of soft foam littered with stars to offer the shore. I have witnessed a victory for the sky and the sea - a formidable collaboration.
In The Odyssey, Homer tells a tale about the Gates of Ivory and the Gates of Horn: portals through which our dreams stream and present themselves to us as truths (whether they are true or not). The very notion of a gate implies a separation between ourselves and our thoughts and memories, as though our dreams exist independently of us.
This is an ancient tale. What we seek is always just out of reach yet we are certain that when we find it we will recognise it immediately, as home. Perhaps this is because we possessed it once, and knew it intimately and have lost it.
I am drawn to this story and wonder whether this separation and loss and longing to be united/reunited with a realm of dreams, is like a quest to come home. For home, what longing is keener? I navigate to apprehend something I may never know... a destination that can only be reached across the landscape of a life. The world is full of comedies and tragedies, of odes and elegies, of promises and endings, of beauty and light; all terrain to be traversed in the odyssey.
And like the light, I am seeking. And like the ocean, I am hunting. And like the clouds, I make my plans. I am compelled to express this, and when words fall short, I need a good ship... and some paint.
Susie Dureau 2011