Me and the Sea - How Coastal Living Inspires My Art
The sea has long been a captivating muse for artists, offering a boundless source of inspiration through its ever-changing moods, colour and textures.
My deep connection with the ocean goes back to my early childhood: I was born yards from the Baltic Sea. I learned to swim there, long before I first set foot in a primary school, and it’s not as cold as many people believe. My hometown, Kiel, is known as ‘sailing city’ and is famous for its international sailing competitions, daily superferries to Scandinavia and Finland and its canal. Kiel Canal measures just under 100km long and connects the Baltic Sea to the North Sea. It is used as a shortcut for the dangerous route around Denmark’s Skagerrak, sparing a 460km trip, usually the equivalent of a day’s sailing. Shipyards, chipping paint and the bink-bink-bink sound of the halyards in the wind are familiar memories from my childhood.
My student years in landlocked places, Brunswick and Berlin, were great, but nothing beats the fresh sea breeze nor the uninterrupted views of the Baltic.
I now live in Edinburgh, exactly 218 steps from the sea. Luckily, I don’t have sea views, my place is just one row too far back. Imagine if I did - I doubt I’d ever get any painting done! But, for me, the sea offers inspiration beyond its views. I love to experience the sea from within and go open water swimming all year round. I draw the line at 8C though. Anything colder is brutal, despite my Baltic upbringing.
I spend my summers on Barra, a small island in the Atlantic and at southern tip of the Outer Hebrides. Here I go coasteering, scrambling the coastline as far as I can get and then jumping into the water whenever the cliffs become too steep. I used to be scared of swimming through thick carpets of seaweed, but that fear has disappeared over time.
My happy place, however, is my sea kayak. Nothing beats being at eye level with the water and the horizon, seeing the light bounce off the surface of the water, playing tricks on me, blinding me. It takes only minutes to launch my kayak from the bottom of my little cottage into North Bay and you never know who you meet down the road….
Encounter with four basking sharks off Rubha Mhicheil, Bruernish, Isle of Barra
I am not scared of the sea, but I have a healthy respect for it. A confident swimmer with a lifeguard certificate, I still always check the weather forecast and never leave without my coastguard radio. Last summer I achieved a lifetime ambition: I kayaked round Greian Head on Barra’s wild Atlantic west coast. It has steep sea stacks and vertical cliffs and you’d need at least two consecutive days of calm waters before venturing out and even then you’ll have to be extremely cautious. Even a fairly low swell – with some waves rolling in all the way from Newfoundland - can push your kayak onto the rocks.
Kayaking round Greian Head, Isle of Barra, on a calm day
This is a my friend Malcolm, a passionate fellow-kayaker. I took his picture on our Greian Head excursion balancing my paddle in one hand and my unprotected iphone in the other.
Keeping in tune with the sea helps me clear my head. The wind blows away my day-to-day worries and my batteries start to recharge. The light on the surface of the water is intense and ever-changing. I will never tire of it.
It’s the perfect time to get my brushes out and start on a new painting.
