Immensity

C.G. Its immensity + its calm, the calm (of surface). At least that’s how it seems to me, always, when I encounter the ocean: it is calm. It is infinitely accepting. Not acceptance in its anthropomorphic sense but literally. Not a form of kindness, but the absorption of everything that comes in contact with it.

E.R.B. Not really. Only my idealized, superficial image of what the ocean is disappeared.
What appeared was more of a feeling of being so small in that vastness.

There’s a dependency on it, from its power and immensity. There is a thing there that does something in the stomach. There’s also a very strong connection between the ocean
and colonization. Because, you see Portugal has a very long coast. The ocean is a very big resource.

I think that this feeling of complete surrender towards the ocean is closely linked to a strong desire to belong. There is an issue with belonging in there. The desire to be part of it. What I’m trying to describe is maybe an intense feeling of being grounded that arises from one’s immediate proximity to the immensity of the ocean. It’s so massive you can’t ignore it.

The encounter with the ocean brings about a silencing. A moment of stopping. You realize that you are surrounded by it and the vastness of the surrounding. It’s too loud.

It’s such a power → it’s a huge thing and this gave me some kind of safety. As with every minority connecting to a majority → It gives you a sense of safety.

T.v.A. Its vastness. Its colors + smells + earthiness. In Dutch, the word I would use is urkracht → in English it means “primordial force”. An acceptance from within the power of being. I think I felt safety also because of the huge contrast between my fragility and its generosity.