Susan's Tags I love to share!
Did you see my latest daily exhibit? I dabble in different mediums. I set shell mosaics in the sand at high tide. Spirals and swirls. Stack seaweed sculptures with kelp embellishments. They plump and hum with flies. Smooth bas-relief patterns onto the shore in wavy expressions of love. Shape-shifting.
Exhale my art and inhale the collaborational accents at low tide. Seagulls palmate painting making webbed impressions. Dogs scraping lines of searching stories. Children forming sand castles and streams. Lovers carving their names in hearts. I pull them back into me when my mother, the Moon, drags me in. I used to resent the turbulence of the tides, but I understand them now, the rhythm to my masterpieces.
Caredwyn played with the threads of the worn beach quilt her mother made from her childhood t-shirts that she couldn't bear to donate or throw away. Her mother sat next to her staring out at the waves as if the sets were speaking to her in morse code telling her what to say to her recently divorced daughter. Crash. Smash. Whoosh. "Just listen," they advised.
Running her fingers over the Carebear's belly to her right, Caredwyn took a handful of sand and placed it on the quilt square sculpting the sand around the cartoon character. She looked at the horizon as tears trickled down her cheeks. The liquid spread as she smiled when she saw the line of sailboats racing to the harbor. "Remember what I used to say about sailboats?" she said and rubbed her face with her sleeve.