His home was filled with all sorts of things, but what caught my eye most was a painting. He noticed immediately and seemed to brighten at my interest. He asked if I painted, and I explained that I was more of a scientific illustrator.
Raising his hand proudly, he told me that he had painted it himself. He went on to explain how the dark pigments came from the soil, where things decompose slowly, and how the warmer hues were extracted from snow algae and minerals. Indeed, he has a lot of time on his hands.
What interested me most was the subject of the painting.
Icecream and I sat on two wooden stumps on either side of a low stone table as he told me about her, his eyes fixed on the painting. I will have to paraphrase, but I will do my best to capture his story:
“When I first found myself here, I wandered northeast toward the arctic ocean, full of resentment.
I was ready to give myself to nature, to the predators preparing for hibernation near the waters. I wanted to be needed by someone, and I no longer wanted to live.
When I reached the shore, I stepped into the icy water, waded to my waist, and waited. As the large ice floes drifted past, I eventually climbed onto one, curious to see what kind of predator the sea would send for me.
I dangled my legs over the edge, into the water, as I floated away from the shore.
Eventually, a predator did find me– but it did not tear me apart or devour me whole.
Something rose slowly from the depths, reached for me with an appendage, and pulled me under.
At first, I was terrified of dying. Then, I was terrified by her beauty.”