#ocean•grey•art

[ed13d1]

come close

Michael Kenna • Kussharo Lake Tree, Study 2, 2005

[polytrich]

where oceans bleed into the sky

[aqua-regia009]

Samuel Taylor Coleridge poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Illustrated by Gustave Doré (French, 1832-1883)

[heartnosekid]

rapture w/ 1940s themes & art deco for anon!

🌊-🏙️-🌊 / 🏙️-🌊-🏙️ / 🌊-🏙️-🌊

[archxangels]

finding the light in darkness

[deadboystims]

lapras stimboard in honor of @stitchwraith-stingers’s lapras in heartgold named billy!!

sources: 1 , 2 , 3 / 4 , 5 , 6 / 7 , 8 , 9

[allisonchinart]

The Grey Havens sketch | x | Sketchbook

[bluecapsicum]

Cold winter skies illustrations for my daily meteorological fiction project, Reports From Unknown Places About Indescribable Events (Twitter, Instagram, Mastodon, archives on my website).

Keep reading for the companion texts.

December 31st: We report: sometimes, we think we know what to expect when it comes to the sky. We go a few days, maybe a couple of weeks without much happening, a rainbow perhaps, a contrail... We think we know the sky. It happens then, that the clouds twist and knit into impossibilities.

January 4th: We report: we went to the planetarium with our expert, once. We spent an hour watching as we got further, and further away from Earth, then the solar system, our galaxy, and then our galaxy group, until there was nowhere to go anymore. We got brought home, to our beating heart.

January 11th: We report: good morning, we would like to draw attention to a lovely and unexpected event occurring at this moment. Would you please look up to the clouds and notice how, though the sky is largely grey, the gulls flying overhead are tinted orange by the sunrise light? Thank you.

January 12th: We report: in the hollow of a valley, sleepy lightning bugs. There is grey little light dragging itself through the air like it does not want to be here, and we are cold with our hands in our pockets and our nose in our scarf and our ears exposed and bright red (nobody sees).

January 22nd: We report: we have missed a train today, but we can only hope that the train dearly missed us in return. We waited at the station for the next one for a long time, watched people get off and on different trains until it got too cold for us to wait outside. Wispy cirrus.

January 27th: We report on a winter morning: there was a robin and a few hares, blending in with the snowy grass. The snowflakes were heavy enough that we could hear them fall around us. We could smell the cold air until our nose started running. Grey sludge on the side of salted roads.

January 28th: We report: it is after nightfall, but there are still many sparrows chattering in the trees. The air is dank out here, and as we walk, we can feel condensation forming on our face, the white puffs of our breath dissolving into the night. Our expert walks a few steps behind us.

January 31st: We report sometime around sunrise (what sun, rising from where, one might ask on this cloudy morning). The light, weak and mournful, does not weigh enough to reach down the deep blue dark of the ocean. The sea, torn by the wind, is busy frothing and making everything capsize.

February 20th: We report: the barometer and the thermometer are both down. It rained a lot last night, and today, the waters are murky, agitated even through the advection fog. We cannot see the horizon. We picked up a nice, pearlescent seashell that glimmered in the sand amidst all the grey.

February 24th: We report: hares in the fields, then a partridge later. The mud is frozen, the clouds are thick. Not much wind. Some colza and daffodils blooming on the roadside. A little bit more of February, its low skies and its half-steps, the transitions in the light and the time.

[talos-stims]

TIDAL MEMORY EXO

🦪|🦪|🦪

🦪|🦪|🦪

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[kiwd]

toniiight were in paradise

[oddestishottest]

07/01/12, my photos

no edit

[marejadilla]

Mary Jane Ansell, "Eye of the Storm", 2024, oil on aluminum panel. B. 1972, British Postwar & Contemporary artist.

[aqua-regia009]

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus Illustrated by Bernie Wrightson (American, 1948-2017)

[soulsunmoon]

Ocean Oil Painting on Panel, By Me, 2024

The more we focus on the wonders & realities of the universe, the less taste we shall have for destruction.

[macd1000]

[0galagonya]

Light