At the Source
At the Source is about being at the edge of the ocean, and the powerful ability of the sand and sea to affect our perspective. We are reminded of how small we are, but also how connected we are to the world — an inextricable part of something so much greater than us. The swirling type says “Countless grains of sand in a single stretch of shore… countless shores in a single grain of sand.”
This piece is about the desire to understand the patterns and causes of the tides: counting to see if the ninth wave really is bigger, pondering at which time of day the tides will be low and high, and the cause. And it is about the comfort of being at the source of all life: the feeling of the salty air healing the body, and the rhythm of the waves as a primal reassurance of our place in a great continuum: Type in the upper right area says “Animals are comforted by the rhythmic sound of a heartbeat. It reminds them of the time from which they came.”
“At the Source” also compares the idea of feeling small at the edge of a vast ocean with the purpose of neurons, those teeny-tiny very powerful cells that make us think and move and do everything we do. Between neurons, there is a fluid-filled gap called a synapse, which each sensation and message must cross (requiring a fundamental transformation) before even the potential for something can happen. Standing there at the edge, we can feel open to potential.
The type at the bottom says “A few flecks of eternity stayed stuck between my toes.” This represents the idea that this kind of realization can only happen when you’re actually there, physically present, at the ocean—at the source. It’s not enough to just have the thought. And although the new perspective might seem to be quite cerebral, it also has everything to do with physical sensation — which toes are especially great at. Lastly, after such a realization, we usually manage to take that sense of eternity and new perspective—at least a few flecks of it—with us when we return to inland life.
At the Source was created in Adobe Photoshop, where I combined my photos of the ocean, sand, some scans of textural paintings by my children, some diagrams of moons, tides and neurons, and type.