Wednesday, 15 June 2011

I do not know my own way to the sea but the saltiest sea knows it's own way to me.

"While the sun poured into those attics, which a plank alone separated from each other so that every footstep could be plainly heard and lit up bats, straw hats, ink-pots, paint-pots, beetles and the skulls of small birds, while it drew from the long frilled strips of seaweed pinned to the wall a smell of salt and weeds, which was in the towels too, gritty with sand from bathing."

- To the lighthouse. Virginia Woolf

This Video always reminds me of sea swimming when I was a child. As soon as my feet touched seaweed, I was being chased by a tentacled creature.

Each Doge of Venice married the Sea. Why can't we?

(Via LifeAquatic)

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