And then there are the places that breathe and bend, dance and break, seek and sleep, and live filled by an ancient vitality that saturates the air and seeps in from the sea. These are the winds that whisper more than ambiguities in the whistling wind, their words are clear and direct without need for interpretation.
The land is hard and rocky, tough and relentless – large, layered and smooth, crawling from the sea, prehistoric giants lunge and fall and stay. Halted. Unable to go any further. Piles of broken rock and boulders overlook the shore, they guard the ends of the earth. The land here does not belong to man, it belongs to the earth – you are a guest here, a visitor, and a student.
Only a few hundred yards away from this epic natural wonder lies a giant limestone quarry which is visually breath taking but absolutely lacks the soul of the shore and the sea.
Adorned in pristine geometry and brilliant saturated hues of every color of in spectrum, it looks like a scene from a storybook – somewhere you would only expect to find in a dream or a fairy tale. It is surrounded by woods, completely hidden from the world, wide open to it at the same time.
Halibut Point in Rockport, MA – the air here is restless, and by that I am settled.
The first time I came here, I was 19 years old and had just finished up my first year at Berklee. I remember climbing on top of the same rocks, I remember walking around the same quarry, I remember staring out into the sea from the same spot on the rocky shore – noticing for the first time how much more vast and enigmatic the ocean seemed from a point versus a long beach – and I remember feeling like there were endless opportunities and possibilities waiting for me, I had my entire life ahead of me and I was going to make something incredible out of myself.
Funny how looking at the same ocean from the same spot fifteen years later fills you with a panic instead of excitement – you can’t help but think how many opportunities you’ve wasted, and how many possibilities died over the last decade and a half, and while you have an awesome family and husband, you still have no fucking clue what you want to do with your life… not so inspiring at 35. But there’s definitely something settling about that chaos – if I can feel something I felt fifteen years ago, why can’t I feel it again in another fifteen years?