January Rain by David Gray

Writing is like swimming under a wave in slow motion.  When you go under, you reach for the sand and feel the grains between your fingers.  Part of you wants to stay down there and transform into a mermaid only to live under the sea forever.  Your feet dangle in the air with no choice but to follow the rest of your body and trickling thoughts deep onto the ocean floor.  When the wave has surpassed and the time is right, your chest lifts up naturally and your arms push away from the floor with a reluctant goodbye.  Ironically, coming back to the surface is the best part.  Eyes closed, face refreshed, and water droplets slowly flying off your face and neck.  One breath is all it takes to begin looking out again at the next wave.  The tide subsides and you are able to stand again sometimes on your tippy toes, sometimes feet flat on the sand below, and sometimes not at all.  There, I reside, waiting and floating for the next big one to come.

Aliso Viejo, CA 2014

I dream about the ocean every night.  I have started to think that I’m not too far off from living under the sea, but rather, it is just, that there is a way to do it whilst on land. 

Certain places, people, and things create this Tritan World that we think only exists elsewhere.

Cape Elizabeth Lighthouse, Portland ME

I will be running in the Maine Marathon tomorrow alongside others who choose to create this blissful, blooming existence here on land.  Traveling by foot, we will all soak in God’s beauty around us via lighthouses, historical homes, and locally owned businesses.  The smell of lobster and fish will only make us finish faster.  On the other hand, we won’t want the Finish Line to appear, the same way we would like to stay under the water forever.  As we see the end forming in the distance it will be time to come up for air again – realizing once again that…

. . . the world right in front is the same world we run in … the same world we swim in…and the same world we write in.

Downtown Portland, Maine – Fall of 2014

Downtown Portland, and all of its being, truly supports the introverted mind and creative thinker alike.  With things like Longfellow’s childhood home at your fingertips and fresh chowder next to the local brewery and poetry house, you are one step away from enrolling your future into a world of typewriters and flavored steamed milk.  Much like the vibe of Seattle or your favorite coffee shop, Portland lures you in with its nonchalant locals and laid back atmosphere.  I can’t help but become more of who I am when I am here.  Though this may not be the same for everyone, I beg to differ, because the line of writers, leaders, and entrepreneurs that derive from here and retreated back proves that this place might truly be The Maine Thing – if only others knew about it.  And even then, the property and commercial taxes protect its existence, as to remain that type of existence under the sea that not many care to explore or maybe are not brave enough to experience.

Cape Elizabeth Lighthouse, Portland

I guess I’m one of the lucky ones – someone who sees and revels in this state’s beauty.  It has given so much to me, and now I want to give so much back already.  Like a place that I only dreamed about in my heart or read about in picture books as a kid, it is now a reality.  I’m having trouble blinking as to make sure that it is for real.  Wanting to stay here forever, I know that I will come up for air soon and it will feel just as refreshing as when I first dove under … maybe that in itself is the true lesson to learn and beautiful thing to appreciate.

See you on the flip-side . . . mermaid tail and all.

Yours Truly,

The Sculpture Gardens, Washington D.C.