Indian Paintbrush by Simona Carini
“Indian Paintbrush” by Simona Carini A tuft of Indian paintbrush blooms in the fierce environment of a stretch of Northern California coast. It does not wait for a more suitable condition to materialize. It answers its call without delay. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Simona Carini Artist Statement: Born in Perugia, Italy, and a graduate of the Catholic...
Fault Line with Parrot by Diane Lucille Meyer
“Fault Line with Parrot” by Diane Lucille Meyer In the very old green sketchbook, I found a watercolor sketch of a parrot. He was a borrowed pet very noisy and very active, almost more so when he saw me attempting to paint him. I retrace my random brush strokes back to the time and place when I made this sketch and I feel his effervescence and energy as I study the piece, closely and from afar, yet when I turn the...
The Q | our buoyant force
Q: How do we ride our buoyant force in the waves?*Responses will be curated and may be shared with permission.Permission* Yes, I give my permission Show Full AgreementBy submitting your response, you are granting AROHO permission for possible publication – in whole or excerpts – in WAVES, which is also archived on our website and may be shared on social platforms.Name* First Last Address* State / Province / Region AfghanistanÅland...
a ping (or whalesong)
Your silence exists as does my self gathering. But so does the almost absolute silence of the world’s dawning. In such suspension, before every utterance on earth, there is a cloud, an almost immobile air. The plants already breathe, while we still ask ourselves how to speak to each other, without taking breath away from them. Luce Irigaray Naked I came into the world, but brush strokes cover me, language raises...
Shore by Lucy Aron
“Shore” by Lucy Aron Even in stillness, when you listen, there’s a heartbeat. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Lucy Aron Artist Statement: I was seduced by literature while hovering in the vicinity of my forties, and photography possessed me about a decade later. I’m self-taught in both. But I learned from a lifetime immersed in music...
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
The Q: What echoes through you that longs to take form—a poem, an image, a mark, a whisper of becoming?
Recent From Waves
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fathoms Feb 28, 2026 -
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