![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Light on water
Jun. 11th, 2008 10:51 amOne of the things that has long attracted me to rowing and other such small-craft water sports is the simple fact that it gives me time to watch and enjoy the play of light across the surface of water. I remember thinking in high school that if I were ever to become an artist, I would make water my medium because I love how it changes and reflects light. Those are dynamic properties that aren't easily captured by other media, so I'd have to work with the water itself. But just imagine the sorts of incredible things that could be done with it.
My favorite kind of water lies somewhere in between still, flat water and choppy waves. I'd describe it as rippling, but that implies regular wave-forms, and the stuff I prefer has a more dappled appearance, disturbed just at the surface by wind. I first noticed it when rowing in Seattle, while waiting to get boats and equipment together to get out on the water. There, the colors in the water range from pale, cool greys to deep, dark blues and greens.
This time of year, as things start to heat up, the Arizona water is at its best in the mornings. Summer solstice is approaching, so the sun is up just as we put our boat in the water at 5 am. When we complete our first lap and pause to stretch and drink some water, we get to watch the reflections of the bridges dance in the dappled water. Some mornings bring electric pinks and oranges, while others greet us with more reserved tans and golds and blues.
I still sometimes wish I could capture those properties, photograph them or paint them or mold them from clay. But it would never be the same.
One of my fondest memories of all time is from high school, sitting on the bow of a sailboat, looking down into the water as we sailed along and watching its ever-changing forms. I sat there for over an hour, watching the rippling water pass by underneath, and was at peace.
My favorite kind of water lies somewhere in between still, flat water and choppy waves. I'd describe it as rippling, but that implies regular wave-forms, and the stuff I prefer has a more dappled appearance, disturbed just at the surface by wind. I first noticed it when rowing in Seattle, while waiting to get boats and equipment together to get out on the water. There, the colors in the water range from pale, cool greys to deep, dark blues and greens.
This time of year, as things start to heat up, the Arizona water is at its best in the mornings. Summer solstice is approaching, so the sun is up just as we put our boat in the water at 5 am. When we complete our first lap and pause to stretch and drink some water, we get to watch the reflections of the bridges dance in the dappled water. Some mornings bring electric pinks and oranges, while others greet us with more reserved tans and golds and blues.
I still sometimes wish I could capture those properties, photograph them or paint them or mold them from clay. But it would never be the same.
One of my fondest memories of all time is from high school, sitting on the bow of a sailboat, looking down into the water as we sailed along and watching its ever-changing forms. I sat there for over an hour, watching the rippling water pass by underneath, and was at peace.
