The Ice Pan Cometh

Well, it’s been a wild ride here this winter. Wild as in wildly swinging temperatures and lots of precip, very little of it snow. “She’s some slippy eh?”. You could luge from the house to the car. Last weekend we set out for a nice country dog walk. It ended abruptly 10 feet from the car.

"slippy" b.t.w., is maritime speak for "slippery"

By the ocean, when rapidly dropping temperature occur during relatively calm seas and an outgoing tide, a very unusual and lovely ice forms:

This is called “frazil” ice. It is an accumulation of thin layers of freshwater crystals, the beginning phase of sea ice. I could explicate with some heavy-duty physics the mechanics of how this ice ends up not salty. I am primarily taken with it’s beauty. That, and the fact that it makes me think of frozen Margaritas. Admit it, you thought so too.

Sea ice also manifests in sugary forms.

These ice-topped intertidal rocks remind one of iced buns. They are covered with "glaze ice”.

 That slushy, pre-consolidated sea ice often found at the shore is called “shuga”. Which makes me think of The Archies. Which makes me think I have too much working memory taken up with bad pop music. Oh shuga shuga. You are my candy girl.

Shuga

So, we found ourselves short on ice for our traditional Friday night Tiki Cocktail and thought, well, what the heck. When life gives you frazil, make Aurora Bora Bora Borealis cocktails!

frazil

proof of ice provenance

frazilicious!

We tried one and it was delish! The ice melts very slowly and is not salty due to the brine rejection effect during freezing. This video of the formation of a "brinicle" shows the process. It's like an underwater tornado. This may be one of the most amazing non-CGI ocean phenomena EVER. Unless you are a starfish. Just take a look:

While in the process of researching for this blog we had the most awesome ice spectacle you can ever experience here in the north atlantic - drift ice.

You may fall asleep to a seascape like this:

And awaken to this:

We have not had drift ice come into our bay for 3 or so years. Here it is a rather counter-intuitive sign of spring.

 It makes the most lulling 'shushhh shushhh shushhh' sound as it laps onto the beach.

It's the shushhhing of spring here in Cape Breton.

 

 

Happy almost spring to you wherever you are.

Storms and Statements

 A... Happy New Year!

 

I see it's been exactly a year since my last post. I suppose this can in some way be viewed as consistency, in a sad underachieving sort of way.

 

 I have BIG plans for 2018!

 

 To begin my work this year, I am composing an Artist Statement. You know, a few short sharp sentences on what I do as a creative type. Apparently key to accomplishing creative goals is knowing what they are. Seems sensible (tedious).

 

After a glorious summer and autumn we had our first big storm. It was a bit of business as usual for us at the pink house where the wind routinely blows in four directions simultaneously. We were prepared. I decided I would use the housebound day without power to sit by the wood stove and work on my artist statement.

By day two of the storm I had 4 short pages of semi-legible notes, 2 sketches of something mysterious and a Venn diagram. Sometimes protracted periods in the dark can lead to having a drink or two for courage and warmth. Perhaps it was the cocktails, or the faint candlelight, but my notes offered up a baffling statement.

 

 

 

 

The question remained. What do I call what I create? Well, stuff, of course. A lot of stuff with handmade books. Some stuff with photographs. Some stuff with shells. Shells and driftwood. On a box maybe. On a frame. On a heart.

 

 

 

  

Sometimes it all comes together and it's a fish!

 

 

 

                                                                 Sometimes it is just perfect the way it arrives.

 

  

What I can say decisively is that my work is inspired, motivated and materialized by the ocean. By, for, about, and literally made of this landscape. I work with what comes to me, is driven up onto the shore, washing up after storms such as this. Aye, thar be treasure...or part of my neighbour's wharf, or shoe, or lobster trap, or bird house:

 

    

 



 

For diversion during the storm I picked up this book, a Christmas gift for my sister that Santa Amazon forgot to deliver:

 

 

It's a beautiful exploration of three islands in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland owned by the author. Adam Nicolson "inherited the islands when he was twenty-one and in this spellbinding and luminous book, he recalls his keenly deep connection to the wild, windswept, and yet enchantingly beautiful property...exploring his complicated relationship to the paradoxes of island life and the wonder of revelatory engagement with our natural world". A perfect read while the storm raged about us in our little house out on the point where we are sometimes an island ourselves.

 

It was this book that finally gave me the idea for my artist statement.

 

Chapter 6 revolves around the finding of a bronze age piece of celtic tribal jewelry near the islands. Objects like this immediately become the property of the queen and must be reported to the authority that governs these finds. This official enforces the laws around maritime salvage. A number of countries have once of these people, traditionally called upon to keep law and order after shipwrecks. They prevented pillage, and policed the terrible practice of luring ships onto the rocks. Anything washing up on the beach became the responsibility of this person.

 

This person is call The Receiver of Wreck.

 

 

 

 

And that's exactly what I am. I am The Receiver of Wreck for my beach. Whatever washes up becomes my muse, my materials. I think it's the perfect phrase with a perfect acronym. So when I go to write my artist statement and print up some new biz cards, or introduce myself at a party I will be

 

 Katherine Scott, R.O.W.

 

Receiving Wreck and transforming it into images, objects and hopefully inspiration.

 

 

 

 

Peace and love to you in 2018 from us here at the little pink house.