I swim in a sea of words. They flow around me and through me and, by a process that is not fully clear to me, some delicate hidden membrane draws forth the stuff that is the necessary condition of my life.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
To me, the sea is like a person - like a child that I've known a long time. It sounds crazy, I know, but when I swim in the sea, I talk to it. I never feel alone when I'm out there.
Sometimes you meet people who can't swim. And I always think: 'Oh my God, that's extraordinary.' For me, it's always been a treat... I just feel really happy in the water.
Underwater, I experience space with my body. I'll see a school of fish gathering and moving together and I'll exclaim, 'This is architecture.'
I just love mermaids. I was a mermaid in my past life. I just feel it when I go in the sea. I just feel a connection there between me, and the water, and the fish - they speak to me - and the shells - they ring out to me.
I feel most at home in the water. I disappear. That's where I belong.
Water is to me, I confess, a phenomenon which continually awakens new feelings of wonder as often as I view it.
I think one probably absorbs things like a sponge and things emerge without your always being aware of it.
Swimming took up so much of my faculties, and for so long, I was willing to give it everything.
I try to separate my personal life from swimming.
Only when I am by seawater can I truly breathe, to say nothing of my ability to think.