When feelings of horror, devastation, bewilderment, and sadness abound, I go to the water.
I find my place when my gaze is set as close to the water’s surface as possible, where the realms of air and water meet. And whenever possible, I float. To be both above and below. To be held by water, held by the unknown.1
In many mythologies, water’s surface represents a boundary between realms.
Exploring my Celtic ancestry led me to learn about thin places, such as described by the Irish poet John O’Donahue. Thin places refer to locations where the veil between the visible and invisible worlds is thin or even porous. The surface of the water is considered a thin place due to its reflective nature.
Seals, being amphibious creatures, often symbolize the connection or bridging between these two realms.
I feel akin to the seal.
Especially this one flipping its tail and animating the water’s surface with its gesture.
I first read the story of The Seal Skin on a weather worn sign at Reynisfjara beach in Iceland years ago. It tells of a selkie woman, a shapeshifter able to transform between human and seal form, representing the wild nature of the sea and interconnection between the human and animal realms. Her seal skin is stolen, trapping her in her human body.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés writes about returning to oneself in the Sealskin/Soulskin story in her celebrated book, Women Who Run With Wolves, describing how the selkie reclaims her freedom and returns to waters and the importance of tending to one’s own soul.
Feel comfortable in your own skin.
This story and the bridging of realms resonates deeply as I reflect on my decision to start rowing the week after our kids left for college. To return to a place of above and below, and dipping the oar to navigate forward while looking backward.
To go by water.
Before this moment, I had kayaked and canoed. And I have had the great pleasure of rowing in the Venetian Lagoon with dear Venetian friends who are highly accomplished rowers of voga alla veneta, rowing standing up, facing forward and resting the oar in a special oarlock called the forcola. I absolutely love it.
Alas, Venetian rowing is not practiced in the Hudson River. So when a friend posted an announcement about a rowing club under new management in Newburgh, I went with curiosity. For the past two years, I’ve rowing with the Newburgh Waterways Center. It’s become a rhythm in my life. I am grateful to be part of this warm and wonderful community, and to be going by water together, connecting to the unknown.
All of this flows through all of my projects over the past 10 years as you can see in Constellation, Red Regatta, Riflessi, In the Waves, Shape Shifting, These Waters, Box of Waves, Eridanus, and more… and continues in my upcoming projects in Toronto (late September 2025 and Venice spring 2026). I’ll be sharing more about those soon.
Thank you all for being here with me…and a warm welcome all the new subscribers!
Love,
MM
Video Credits:
Video 1 by Giovanni Pellegrini/Ginko Film. Po River Delta. Italy.
Video 2 by Lila Quinn. Jökulsarlón Glacier Lagoon, Iceland
The mysteries of the vast oceans and our waterways have sparked curiosity throughout time. A vast majority of the ocean rand hidden ecosystems remain unexplored and unobserved. NOAA says that less than 10% of the world's ocean has been mapped, and a significant portion of its biodiversity and geological features remain unknown despite the fact that it covers 70% of the planet’s surface.
So grateful to have the Newburgh waterways community in my life. You are a huge part of that. So proud to know you and love to read about all of your work!
Oh these gorgeous images! They lead me to spaces between and across realms. A form of freedom. Thank you!