Goddess of the Sea

Goddess of the Sea

Time: 3 hours and 26 minutes

I painted this for a poem I wrote, but didn’t illustrate it until a competition came out in the local newspaper requesting a short story about the ocean and summertime.

Considering I had been putting it off, I took the hint and got around to painting it 😉

You can read the poem below.


Snowball Earth:

I am a child of summer,
With salt on my skin, and a main of the sea.

I am a child of autumn,

Where youth fades and even time grows old,
Leaves dropping into the bay I have so come to love,
And being sucked away to distant lands, where stars fall…

I am a child of winter, and of storm-trodden tides,

Where rain lashes down in sheets & spirals—
Only to fall silent in the deepest depths, adrift within the waves.

There is peace in the darkness, where the sun seldom reaches land,
Occasionally, staring up from the bottom, I may find a shimmer of light,
As a dying star races into the sea’s watery gaze,

Only to douse itself as the end of time is reached.

To venture near a surface now encrusted with ice,
I press my hands, hot against it’s sorrow and silence,
Looking to go where lights play across the sky…

The flicker of rainbow as all we know stops,

And freezes over.

I am a child of spring—
How long I did sleep, I’ll never know.

I wake as ice thaws, fresh upon the ground,
And lands warm in the heat of a new sun.

Streams cut their way across this strange earth,
Moving glaciers where they once stood still,
Testing the fragile waters of eternity.

Icicles drip unto new worlds, green and lush with promised growth,
Life, of the kind I have not seen for aeons…

I am a child of spring,
Where large dragons flie across the lands,
And silence is a distant concept, of ice, and of ending—

The enduring rainbows, as they ripple across my skin…

I am a child of summer,
But it is a summer that has changed.
No longer can I see the heat,
The death,
The withdrawal of all we once knew, as already the tides recede.

No longer can I watch the sun as it beats upon an earth turned brown,
It’s old gaze fiery and hot in it’s excellence.

No longer can I watch the joys of summer recede,
To dull and dreamy autumn, where the last surrenders as the winding of a clock;
Destined to end.

I am winter, and I am silence.
I forget the rainbows as they fade above me,
And sink to the darkest depths of the ocean.

I am peace, and I am darkness;
And here I will remain,
As the ice melts, and the ocean rises,

To be reborn.



The true short story I put together had a more abstract speedpainting of about 60 minutes. The tale itself was quite dark, but I have included both below.

 A Sea of Stars:

           I lay on the sand, the waves lapping gently across the shore.
          On them, I knew, lay the moon; spread over it’s rippling expanse like molten silver, so ethereal as the muffled sound carried over the bay—so distant, yet so near.
          I looked to the stars reflected on that surface, so densely populated they seemed as swirls of mist.
          I had never seen the ocean before—not like this. And now it lay before me, the glassy entrance to another realm, even as my own heartbeat failed…
          I could feel the blood as it caked the sand.
The ocean’s song washed around me, over me; the kiss of waves lapping gently against the shore, slow, and peaceful, as if timed in a space far greater which only it could understand.
          I knew the tourniquet was soaked through, could feel as time slipped away from me like the grains of sand on which I now lay. And yet the waves continued, so calm…
          I was surrendering to that realm, I knew. Slipping away into it’s silver expanses, while the sound gently carried me to the shores of another world, far, far from this one…
          I shut my eyes.


          “Hello?” I asked, struggling to understand. It was late, and my friends were gossiping over a cup of coffee. I ran my fingers through my hair, pressing my hands against my eyes in an effort to wake up.
          1 AM. My shift was nearly over.
          “I’m sorry, I can’t understand you. Where are you?” I asked, trying to concentrate.
          “On the beach…” came the voice, distant, strained. “I’m not quite sure where, you’ll… have to track the number.”
          “Tell me exactly what happened.”
          It was a shark. I’ve… tourniquet’d the wound, but… the artery…”
          I stood up straighter, the pump of adrenaline rushing through my veins. There had been many calls tonight, things I had become accustomed to in my nocturnal world—but none of them like this. It was usually someone else I spoke to, not the victim themselves…
          I notified the dispatch, trying to keep the dimming voice on the line.
          “There will be help for you soon—you need to stay awake. Listen to the sound of my voice.”
          There was a long sigh, as if she hadn’t registered my words.
          “Thank you… for being here. It’s better to go—” there was a gasp.
          “…talking to someone, than being alone…”
          I put my coffee down, leaning towards the screen as if the small, coloured text held the veil between our worlds.
          “Hello? Are you still there?”
          There was the rustle of noise against the speakers, then only the distant sound of waves, as if lapping gently against the shore…
          Then the line cut, the tone sounding long and loud in my headpiece.


          There was another heartbeat now, distant, yet stronger than my own. I could feel as it grew closer and closer; the blades of a helicopter, slicing through the warm night…
          In my hand lay a phone, it’s face blank.

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