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Yuko Nishikawa

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Day Two Hundred Thirteen

August 1, 2017

The beach I grew up in was a sleepy one, of dark sand of volcanic rocks, too hot to stand in bare feet on summer days.  At the Ruby Beach in Washington State two weeks ago I saw the superfine sand under my toes has the similar color. During the low tide the sand becomes a floating mirror, making people on the horizon hang between the sky and the ocean, the fog blends everything like a pool of monochromatic water color paint that is still wet on paper.  This week I started working on a project, the seascape. With this I try to be free from explanations and reasons. I don't want to use symbols to mean something. While building forms I want to think about the landscape and not the individual pieces. The forms do not represent actual shells or rocks or driftwood. I want to create the feeling of the quiet landscape that I have become physically far from it but know that it is still there. Such landscape for me is the beach. Yours is probably different from mine.

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