Ahoy there oysters and cuttlefish!

This month’s art letter is about saltwater, prompted by this photograph of Cig Harvey’s:

This image got me all frothy with sentimentality. When you’re at sea, buoys like this literally mean the difference between floating or sinking. There were times during our year on the Atlantic when I spotted one through binoculars in the fog after an overnight sail and made my own saltwater out of sheer relief.

Also, below the surface these shiny erections support a writhing slop of algae and shellfish, so I imagine climbing up on one would be like trying to mount a barnacle-and-mayonnaise-slathered manatee.

I’ve been told that humans are the only mammals that cry saltwater tears. Can anyone verify this (factually, and not merely via Google search)?

In the spirit of salty nostalgia, I made four maritime miniatures in vintage brass lockets. This is what the build up of painted layers looks like. As you can see, I totally scrapped the fourth one. That happens.

Available in my lil shop.

LET’S DISCOVER YOU AN OCEAN

I find that lugging our weary eyes out of captivity and sliding them over the glossy surface of the sea is heartily restorative. Since you are either looking at a computer or phone, you need some sea time. Here is a flowchart to aid you in discovering some artists I love that capture the crash’n’bash or the silky lap of the ocean:

LIFE NEWS:

Our original sea monkey, Sunny Bowline, plopped out 4 weeks early two years ago. Though this next guppy is due August 9th, there’s a good chance the barometric pressure of my uterus could dip below sea level before next month’s art letter. In which case, well, it will merely be late. Cuz I’m human.

If you’re still in the mood to get distracted I suggest this post about a French fishing village with a charming spattering of small homes with boats for rooftops. It’s so charming it makes me want to cry sugarwater tears!

Peace and well wishes, beluga buds!

Lub,

Khara