{"id":47,"date":"2015-08-20T12:00:15","date_gmt":"2015-08-20T12:00:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.juliannathibodeaux.com\/wordpress\/?p=47"},"modified":"2015-09-11T16:51:05","modified_gmt":"2015-09-11T16:51:05","slug":"castle-rock-diary","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.juliannathibodeaux.com\/?p=47","title":{"rendered":"Castle Rock Diary"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\u00a0\n

I\u2019ve claimed this rock\u00a0as my office.<\/strong><\/p>\n

It isn\u2019t wired, there\u2019s no desk, just ledges of rock in seemingly infinite variety. I can recline, as I am now, against a sheer face of granite, my butt leveled on a jutting rock below it. But the problem with working out here is that I get distracted: today I\u2019m pulled by the mustard sky, a belated sunrise to the southeast, where a fishing boat has dropped anchor against the glowing horizon line. I take too many pictures here\u2014hungry to capture the enormity of it, the possibilities, the fickle mood of the water.<\/p>\n

As an artist, my work is done for me: all I have to do is show up, point, and click. But I want more than that. I want to dive into it, this beauty; to find a way in so that it trickles through my cells, replicating in wondrous, happy bursts.<\/p>\n

As an artist, my work is done for me: all I have to do is show up, point, and click. But I want more than that.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
<\/p>\n
$\"Castle$ <\/p>\n
So I sit here however often I can: if only to remind myself that this, this water and earth, are the place I now call home\u2014having come from a place that was lovely in its way but for me, parched; no splash of brine against rockface, the nearest\u00a0lake lapping against a mossy, cattailed shore a half day\u2019s drive away.<\/p>\n
This is the dream come true\u2014my Midwestern expansion, all the way to the coast. Call me a\u00a0New England<\/a> pioneer, even though I lived in this state as a child. I lived away long enough that another place became home, even though a part of me never left this one.<\/p>\n
I haven\u2019t stopped craving that metaphorical diving in, plumbing the water from this rock from where I\u2019ve\u00a0spied a lone seal cavorting on a whitecap morning, the waves furious and slamming in a steady pulse; heard the staccato of wings as another lone animal, a goose, articulated a water landing against a mattress of water. I\u2019ve spied fishing boats trawling for a catch, or stopping to check their lobster pots, all in a day\u2019s work; and I\u2019ve been interrupted by the crunch of sturdy, flat-heeled shoes against gravel as a gaggle of vacationers walked down the path to my sanctuary, Styrofoam cups in hand.<\/p>\n
They ignored me, just as I ignored them.<\/p>\n
But that is OK in its way: I have work to do, here, with words, on the other side of the rock where I\u2019ve ventured today\u2014further than I\u2019ve ever climbed\u2014where I can no longer see or hear the comings and goings down the path from the road. Not even the inhabitants of the castle, for which this outgrowth is named, can see me here. Ironic that I am concealed from them, but not from the larger world: the vast, open expanse of ocean, and all that lives within and floats upon it.<\/p>\n
I have vowed to\u00a0come here as often as I can manage: barring gusty winds and ice. One day\u00a0I\u2019ll no longer feel that anxious quiver in my knees as I peer over my footrest to the churning\u00a0water below.<\/p>\n
No seals today, and the geese have gone, too; morning breakfast dishes cleared from the water\u2019s riffled surface. I snap one more picture, contemplating whether or not I will ever make the effort to paint this buffet of images: a thing that could easily distract in a manner so permanent I might not ever set fingers to keyboard again, which is, of course, just another means of capturing the ever-changing spectacle from upon this rock.<\/p>\n<\/body>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u00a0 I\u2019ve claimed this rock\u00a0as my office. It isn\u2019t wired, there\u2019s no desk, just ledges of rock in seemingly infinite variety. I can recline, as I am now, against a sheer face of granite, my butt leveled on a jutting…
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