Ocean Views, In Colored Pencil

2/7/24

The rain comes in sheets. Dark clouds loom in the west, slowly crawling their way over the coast, darkening our damp sands with gloom and rain, then continue moving on towards the hills in the east. For several days now a raincoat has been part of the essential tool-kit, and time spent outdoors has been limited. On days like this I am grateful for a dry bed, warm food, and sufficient reading material, despite the small pool of water accumulating under my cabin’s skylight.

Our workload has been light, largely due to the fact that our job is made-up, and yesterday evening we got off at 3:30pm. With little do to besides sit alone in the dark (dinner is not provided, and the wifi does not extend to our cabins), I took the opportunity to re-supply my coloring kit, and spent the evening sketching the one view I spend the majority of my day looking at: ocean horizons.

This continued into the morning, when I arrived at the dinning hall early for the quiet and the coffee. I sat down, unpacked my drawing supplies, and began sketching a cloud formation out the window. Each time I looked up for a reference, the sky had changed considerably, growing more and more beautiful each time. Gradually, the dark storm clouds broke apart to reveal streams of brilliant white light, and, at times, glimpses of bright blue sky beyond. The waves, a dull gray-blue, fueled with cold aggression. Thus, my teal blue colored pencil has become much shorter than the rest of the colors.

There are several traits that make someone good at the sort of work that I do. That is, working with young children. For some, it is boundless energy. For others, it is a deep passion for the subject matter. For others, it is a caring heart. For me, it is an outpouring of joy, and little else. The trouble is that there seems to be no shortage of things in this world that manage to steal my joy, and, in doing so, steal my desire to perform this job. However, there is also no shortage of things in this world that fill my heart with a seemingly infinite amount of joy. The clearest distinction I can find, is that the former comes from man’s civilization, and the latter from God’s creation.

When I bring pencil to paper with any form of artistic intention, I discover very quickly the intricate beauty that only the natural world can provide. When I spend enough time in the quiet, staring at the ever-changing skies, I find myself finally able to breath. It is this, and only this, that I wish to teach to any given student. And, if the lesson is never received, I will continue to enjoy it myself.