Not the kind of beach for sun worshipers but just our kind of beach. Every day we create our own mini-megalithic park that the waves erase overnight Each stone is unique in size, weight, color and some, instead of making a dull clunking sound, sing when they strike together, like chimes. You can’t be in a rush when you’re balancing rocks. You can’t have somewhere more important that you have to be. All your focus has to be on that one individual stone, in that moment, learning it’s shape and weight and making small adjustments until you hit the sweet spot where all is in balance.
The stones do crazy things to the water as the tides come in, causing geyers. The water sounds different hitting irregular rocks rather than soft smooth sand, giving a real voice to the water instead of a whisper.
Our garden was on a tour a few years ago. One visitor looked at the stacked stones in our garden and asked how we did it. “I’m going to do it in my garden, but I’ll just drill a hole through them and thread a pipe” he responded after hearing our explanation.
We’ll just keep playing with the natural balance and enjoy the process.
We’re up in Rhode Island communing with the water and rocks. This morning at breakfast we looked through the area papers to find out what might be going on in the local art scene and discovered an annoying nationwide trend. Just like the papers back home in New Jersey, the arts sections here define the arts as primarily Movies, TV and a bit of music and an even smaller bit of theater. Where are the paintings, drawings and photography? It’s as I they don’t exist. Oh, there was a short review about an Audubon print exhibit. What about us living artists? And one of the papers we were looking at was the Boston Globe.
Not sure if this is a statement about how visual arts are valued in this country or one of the reasons why the newspaper industry is dying.