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The water spinner

🇬🇧LJ_J
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Chapter 1 - The reflection of light

Have you ever noticed the way the sky reflects on the water? The bluest of skies, with the most white of clouds on the most sunny of days for instance. With the pale yellows that create a blanket of sandy sediments at the shore, in contrast to how the blue reflections of water are decorated by the vividness of the clouds! It is such a magical of sights, creating such a placid aura. Well, those moments as few and far between as they are create such a pivital point to the happenings of last summer.

Forget if you will that vacations are infact times of relaxations and rejouvinations of character, thing of an artist whom is on a quest for inspirations in their works and you will indeed be closer to understanding why i sat on that sedimentary rock looking out at the curls of waves lashing gracefully against the shore with the ebbing of the tide. For a student progressing from one level of achievement to something greater, must put their aquired learnings to practical use.

But to say knowing where to begin such a journey is a matter that is different from person to person indicates that some students find this transition easier than others. Myself, i watched my classmates slip easily into a flow using techniques they had aquired along the way, myself, i was lost, what picture should i create? Should it be a series? Would dedicating myself to such things before seeing what works and what doesnt, things that were niggling at me, whilst i listened to the seagulls, flutter about their day pooping on the lands below and around them.

i had no friends with me, for, i found that soul seeking worked bestif i segregated myself from society becoming a kind of observer to my surroundings, but, what could work? What could i make work? And more importantly what did i consider a worthy venture. I hadnt quite adjusted to my new environment of advancement in studies, i was still overwhelmed with what lay ahead of me. What didnt work in one position could work in another composition, the reason i was there. What sort of artist would i be?

I knew that light and the reflections of blues from water and sky were to make part of my subject matter, true to form, its beauty astounded me, presented there before me. There were gentle breeze like gusts of wind that made welcomed cooling and soothing affects upon my slowly tanning skin. How much detail was going to be too little and what was goig to be too much? How far could realism be hindered and destorted before it just became an unfathomable mess. When i sat down to ponder on that rock that day i was unaware of how much was going to weigh on my mind in the turmoil of ponderation i created for myself that day.

was it for better or worse are the questions i ask, sitting here before you today, attempting to form and expand on a style that i could call my own. Had it truly worked? What am i still missing? Did i genuinely progress? It is certain that from that moment onwards my life had changed. Now, im faced with questions of how i would have done things differently if i could start the journey over again. The bonus is that i have a small collection of works now, the disadvantages, i still have a lot to learn if im going to succeed in the viciousness called humanity. Its often over critical nature can be quite a thorn to any artist.