We disembarked Sea Dragon three days ago, and waved goodbye to the most beautiful of homes. Since then, I have woken religiously in the middle of the night and it’s taken me a good while to realise that no, I am no longer at sea. And with this comes a deep thwack of regret.
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I am excited to envisage on paper the experience of being on the ocean, with no land in sight. It’s a new thing for me, to embark on this kind of expedition, and I want to try to get the feeling down in pencil and paint – the raw wilderness surrounding us on all sides.
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Here, where the wilderness shouts so very loudly, words seem quieter somehow. Less important. I can imagine my own melting away, driven by the sound of the wind and rock. In Helen’s maps though, her collections of words and drawings are the anchors that connect place to place, person to person, creature to creature. Sea shanties from an Icelandic village are tied, across an ocean, to perhaps a Faroese folk chant or a viking childrens’ tale.
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