Moon Dance | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Moon Dance | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jason Fusek
01/20/07
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The moon shined bright, a radiant spotted circle just over the horizon of the ocean. The waves glowed from the moon’s reflected light. When they crashed on the beach they lit up for a brief moment before exhausting themselves in a fury of billowy white foam that dissolved into dark water and wet sand. The dry sand glowed a bright grayish blue and small valleys of black showed where mini-dunes had piled high enough to block the moon’s light. He occasionally saw a seagull fly to and fro in the wind that blew against him and brought in the waves.

The scene had a very natural beauty, readily apparent to the eye. Tonight, though, he wanted to capture beauty that was visible to the heart. For this he had to look at, wait in, and feel his surroundings.

He had submersed himself in the sand. No chair below, he sat just above the water line on a sand swept blanket. He could smell the salty wind and hear it rustle along with the crash of the waves and occasional call of a seagull.

Creation sang in some unknown chorus before him and he asked, “What are you singing? How are you together forming a chorus to praise your Creator?”

He waited, breathing deeply into his diaphragm, taking it all in – wind, ocean, moon, sand, seagulls, and the sounds and smells that accompanied them all.

The wind brushed past him with a soft swirl and he noticed its whisper. It danced around him, occasionally picking up granules of sand and tossing them this way and that. The mini-dunes responded and changed their shape ever so minutely as the wind danced and celebrated the coolness of the night air. The ocean encouraged the wind’s dance by cresting larger waves with each arriving set. The waves pushed more sand up the beach to dry for the wind to snatch it up and toss it around. Seagulls flew in the wake of the wind’s dance, almost claiming a still place in the sky when the wind blew hard enough for them to glide. Their calls encouraged the wind to blow harder, dance, and toss the sand so that it would sparkle in the light of the moon.

The moon alone was stoic, or so it seemed. Moving slowly across the night sky, it observed everything and made its contribution simply by being present. It’s light provided definition, contrast, and permitted the vision as he saw it before him. No less a contributor, but not active and responsive like the others. If the wind stopped dancing, seagulls stopped flying, or the ocean calmed, the moon would continue to shine and move across the night sky. It was the constant in the chorus.

In the wind’s dance, he had his theme and main character. The ocean, seagulls, sand, and moon formed a chorus. All formed a song and dance, of laughter and thanks for being alive and present to the Creator.

Now the harder task lay before him: to show his heart’s vision through the lens of the camera and his pallet of paint. This would be work, but work that he would fully immerse himself into. It was his heart agreeing with creation.

He took out his paints and water, set up his mini-easel, and took out his paintbrushes. He removed the camera from its satchel and made the adjustments.

He sat and waited until he could see the same song and dance through the lens. Then he joined in by preserving what creation gave freely to the Creator from what He had freely given to it. This was an everlasting performance sure to be repeated in theme but never the same twice, a pleasure to witness and share.

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