I cannot see it because I live within a landlubber’s city walls. I cannot hear it, because I am surrounded by the sounds of the road and the factory. I cannot feel it, because here, in the crowd of civilization there is almost no space for feeling. And for all this, I have to go to it, fly to it, dream it up.
Not all the seas are the same though. There are snorkelling seas, all-in seas, seas infested with tourists and seas embedded in concrete. You have to find your way to the right sea and the best way to find a way to your sea is to lose yourself. Get lost from the GPS, the road, from the polished, chromed beaches, go far and even farther, to the spot where the line between the sand, stones, water and light disappears.
And then, beyond that stretch of a sand dune, you will suddenly see it. Suddenly you will hear it and also feel it. And your dreams soar like seagulls towards the sun drowning in the waves. And the sea is within you, it is deep, mysterious, scary but also old, very old, much older than you and all of a sudden you are young and beautiful and unrestrained.