My Heart Is A Nautical-Themed Pashmina Afghan

We interrupt copious amounts of Asia recapping this broadcast for a maritime digression of sorts.

You see, I’ve been a lover of the ocean, and of all things aquatic and nautical-inspired, ever since I can remember.

My love for sea-faring-everything might very well have been fostered during the myriad spring breaks spent exploring quaint coastal communities in and around Port Ludlow, Washington. Some of my fondest childhood memories spring forth from days spent poking my curious face into every trinket shop in downtown Poulsbo and downtown Bremerton, carefully selecting bracelets laden with sparkling gems found in nearby sand, wondering about the sharks who gave up their teeth for necklaces while peering at tiny sailing ships in tiny bottles  and cheerfully collecting polished shells to keep in my pockets.

I still vividly remember late afternoons spent beach-combing for mollusks and buried treasure on Bainbridge and Whidbey Islands; a morning studying tides with my aunt Joy until she happily selected the perfect window for clamming in Port Angeles; the way saltwater smelled on my skin hours later, still stuck between my toes.

Until I reached my second year of college and realized a simultaneous double major in Biology and English Literature was going to be next to impossible without first learning how to clone myself, I very much wanted to be a Marine Biologist. As such, I had spent many a day-dream envisioning a life led on the ocean floor: mining murky water for mystic and illicit meaning; diving for clues to uncloak the mysteries of marine mammals; marveling daily at the miraculous design of oceanic ecosystems.

Though I know it to be much more than a fairytale career, I still find the possibilities, and the idea of a seascape workplace, endlessly fascinating, crashing waves to me as tempting as a siren song.

It’s little surprise then, that when I was properly introduced in college to one Mr. Herman Melville–author and sailor and self-taught know-it-all concerning all things leviathan and nautical–I fell into deep literary smit. I was fortunate enough to study under a bona fide Melvillean scholar at my university, and was able to take an entire course focusing solely on Melville and his collected works. Soon after, I read Moby-Dick multiple times, followed by every piece of his writing I could get my hands on, including his short stories (which are some of my favorites), and his collected poems.

I was surprised and thrilled to receive an email from a fellow Melville fan while I was in Korea (Hi! Scott), with references to Moby-Dick related awesomeness, my very favorite of which was a project entitled One Drawing for Every Page of Moby-Dick, and the fact that the artist (is super creative and talented, yes! and) knew to hyphenate the title, Moby-Dick (though you never hyphenate the whale, Moby Dick) made me want to give him a literary fist bump. Is there such a thing as a literary fist bump? There should be.

I’m verily smitten with the entire project (which is at this point, still ongoing), especially page 153.  For those of you lazy selective link clickers, this! is page 153 (image © Matt Kish):

The line from the text he took for this page’s inspiration, which also doubles as the piece’s title: “Did you fixedly gaze, too, upon that ribbed and dented brow; there also, you would see still stranger foot-prints — the foot-prints of his one unsleeping, ever-pacing thought.”

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In other quasi-nautical news, last Thursday I attended a (n uber-talented) friend’s art opening, her photography part of a three-point collaboration with two local Portland artists (Hey Jolby!) to ultimately create fifty works of original art, all sea-faring and pirate-esque in nature.

If faced with choosing one official favorite or walking the plank, I think I would have to go with “Treasure of Calypso”:

I was also quite taken with “The Death Coast”:

And “The End”:

(All images © Ashely Forrette & Jolby)

The exhibit is called Sea Legs (and is showing at the Together Gallery until March 20th), and I loved the show enough to seriously plot how I could somehow move into the exhibit space, so I didn’t have to walk out of it without every single piece tucked underneath my arm.

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Thus, we come to the end of this, our maritime digression of sorts.

Happy! March, ye land lubbers.

Post title is referencing a lyric (“I’m on a boat and/It’s going fast and/I’ve got a nautical-themed pashmina afghan”) from The Lonely Island’s “I’m On A Boat,” which, yes, I’ve probably watched six-hundred times, and yes, still makes me laugh, every time.

Oh! And I have a post up at Work It Mom! today, talking about how to deal with difficult bosses and colleagues, and my Print Of The Week is up on Style Lush, too!

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