Antarctica is commonly referred to as The White Continent - aptly so, of course. But, this is also a place of many colours - brown, black, coral, rust and lilac to name a few - and there are more tones of blue here than could be made to fit into any paintbox.
I haven't forgotten about writing up this season's Art & ArtScience projects - far from it. I intend to put something about these together over the weekend. We're in the process of bringing our season to an end now, so in amongst all our usual activities, the focus has been very much on drawing a circle around our respective projects, as well as on packing up various pieces of now-redundant camp gear so that it can be retro-ed back to McMurdo for storage or processing. There have been samples to sort, sediment, lab equipment, paper boats and porcelain pieces to package up for safe transport home, etc...
Solo voyage across frazzle ice
This morning, I re-read a poem I wrote in about 2003, titled About Blue, and decided to post it here because I was struck by how relevant it seems to this season's work with its strong dive focus and my own happy preoccupation with boats, blue and the elements.
vagabond amongst colours.
Reckless, untamed, it disembodies
whatever becomes caught in it.
Once, I brushed the surface
of a boat blue. Within a moment
there were the ocean and sky - no longer
a boat in view.
And have you heard?
Blue has an appetite
for monsters; stampeding and bellowing
fall into themselves, slip
down the throat of blue
into water the inside colour
Imagine a slow drunkenness
on vapours of blue.
Easy it is to spin dizzy
just at the thought of it
coupling some distance from shore
at sea with rose madder or gold.
If you close your eyes
tightly, I think you will find blue
coiling a wind rope, coaxing lines
of water and air
from currents of emerald