There Is A Part Of Me That Only Lives Here 30"x48"
I too, feel these words to be true. That there is a part of me that only wakes from its sleep when I’m by the shore. Standing by on the dunes or red cliffs that meet the ocean. The air that clears the dust from my lungs and sends oxygen to the calm creative place waiting inside me. This beach is Cousins Shore. Just beyond the edge of land you see in the distance is Campbells beach. I know that Lucy Maud would have walked the sand of both shores many times and stood on that exact cliff of red earth and sand stone, breathing in the same air and welcoming the waking part of her soul that only lives by the shore.
I too, feel these words to be true. That there is a part of me that only wakes from its sleep when I’m by the shore. Standing by on the dunes or red cliffs that meet the ocean. The air that clears the dust from my lungs and sends oxygen to the calm creative place waiting inside me. This beach is Cousins Shore. Just beyond the edge of land you see in the distance is Campbells beach. I know that Lucy Maud would have walked the sand of both shores many times and stood on that exact cliff of red earth and sand stone, breathing in the same air and welcoming the waking part of her soul that only lives by the shore.
I too, feel these words to be true. That there is a part of me that only wakes from its sleep when I’m by the shore. Standing by on the dunes or red cliffs that meet the ocean. The air that clears the dust from my lungs and sends oxygen to the calm creative place waiting inside me. This beach is Cousins Shore. Just beyond the edge of land you see in the distance is Campbells beach. I know that Lucy Maud would have walked the sand of both shores many times and stood on that exact cliff of red earth and sand stone, breathing in the same air and welcoming the waking part of her soul that only lives by the shore.