self-portrait

It is no secret that I love the beach. If you've been reading Self-Portrait a while, I'm sure you've come across one or two entries where I declare my eternal love for all things beachy: the soft sand, the pounding waves, the briny air. However, you might not know (because I can't remember if I've mentioned it or not), that I once lived on the beach. Not in a homeless, on-the-beach-in-a-lean-to-made-out-of-driftwood-and-torn-sails sort-of way, but in a basement apartment that is slightly attached to the main house sort-of way.

For my memoir writing class, I wrote about the first time David and I saw our beach-front apartment in Lincoln City, Oregon, and the year of joy and challenges that followed. Actually, I think I only got through New Year's Eve, but that's beside the point. The point is, I have lived one of my dreams. I have lived on the beach.

I've been in love with the beach since I was a small girl. My parents and I would stay on the Oregon Coast every once in a while, and I remember the hours and hours of fun I had digging in the sand, wadding in the freezing cold water, jumping the waves, and climbing on the rocks that were exposed when the tide went out. Among their cracks and crevices I explored the tide pools for crabs and shells and starfish. I actually got a couple starfish once - a red one and a purple one. My parents and I tried to keep them on the deck of our hotel room to dry them out, but it was foggy and rainy the whole time, so they just died, and soon began to rot. We ended up tossing them out the window of another hotel room in Pasco, Washington on our way home because they were stinking up the car. I was bitterly disappointed, but eventually got over it. What I did not get over, however, was my love, love, love of the ocean!

My mother shares my love of the sea, and we vacationed in Lincoln City once when I was still in college. We walked along the shore, watched the kite flyers fighting the strong ocean wind, and sipped coffee on the deck while we watched the waves for hours.

Though it's totally beside the point, I experimented with black and white infrared film for the first time that summer of 1986, and here's a couple of my best shots:

Years later, David and I vacationed in Lincoln City as well, and loved it so much we eventually and very much spontaneously moved there. We lived in a small apartment a block away from the beach (no view, dammit) for a few months, then the perfect, beach front apartment came available. We knew from the moment we walked into the place that we were going to be living there. The place itself was a pit, but the view . . . well, just see for yourself :

Yeah! It was paradise - Shangri-La, is what David called it - and for awhile, it was. I have wonderful memories of living on the beach, as well as not so good ones. Still, my love for the beach remains, and though I'm not living with an ocean view anymore, I'm only about 20 miles from the nearest stretch of sand and sea; just close enough to get a quick beach fix every once in a while.