Monday, October 16, 2006

Floating World

My boyfriend gave me the most beautiful surfboard in the world. It's a 9'2" longboard, with a deck the exact shade of hot pink that I've used in several of my early paintings. The design is a kind of a camp 'Old Glory', a pastel pastiche of the American flag with off-white stars scattered down the left hand side and pink and cream stripes down the right. The whole design is bordered by a thin, Klein blue line. These exact same shades of pink and blue were combined in my very first enamel painting.
The board is still shiny and new. Yesterday, I kept its surfaces pristine so i could admire them, and peer into them like the facets of some exotic jewel. Last night I dreamed that I'd fallen asleep embracing it. Today, I can't wait to wax the deck and blur the hard edges of colour under layers of opaque carnauba extract. It's time to turn it into a practical water craft instead of a slippery totem.
I can't wait to paddle out on it. Sometimes, when I'm in the surf, I catch glimpses of rich, aqueous colours around me, as if my art has swum out to keep me company – a surreal idea that makes me feel whole, as if I am able finally to assemble all the disparate pieces of myself on the heaving surface of the shore break.


David said...

Why don't you sign the surfboard and give it to Scott redford

Anonymous said...

Beautifully described. You really nailed it, Hazel. The gift of a new board would turn me into a 5-year-old under a Christmas tree. There's no better present ... well, a 90-year lease on a Fijian island (with a righthander) would trump it!
I love the smell of new board, new guitar (and napalm in the morning).

B. Quasar