In March of 2020 my husband John and I were vacationing aboard our 42-foot sailboat, Lark, in the Bahamas. We had planned to stay for about two weeks, after which I was to fly home to prepare for a show, my husband to attend a conference. When the pandemic hit, John realized that if he left his boat behind, he might not get back to it for many months. The Bahamas government was grounding all flights, and in any case both my show and his conference were not to be.
John decided to sail his boat all the way to Rhode Island; I decided to stay with him. We were both able to work part-time. Our time on the boat stretched from two weeks to three months. That is when I began to photograph the sea, shoot videos, and make sound recordings. On board, I have some art supplies and a tiny kiln that I use to make porcelain elements for my work.
From Lark’s deck I spent hundreds of hours just looking at water, sky, clouds, and stars. In the Bahamas, I saw clear aqua water with coral heads under it. I saw shadows of clouds, both on the surface and on the sand under shallow water. In Maine, off the Cape, and near Martha’s Vineyard I saw the softness of fog blending into rough grey green or calm grey blue. One winter I sailed on an eleven-day passage with John and crew from Rhode Island to the Virgin Islands. Offshore, the Atlantic under sun is always a particular color: a bright royal blue. Later I saw rain pounding the sea in our harbor in Domenica, and green ripples reflected from the hills of St. John. I saw Sargasso seaweed floating on the surface, and underwater light while snorkeling. Last summer, my husband crossed the Atlantic with other crew. When I joined him, I saw water in surprisingly varied incarnations in the Mediterranean.
The pieces from the Lark’s thread of light series portray the many moods of the seas that I experienced via sight, motion, and sound.
-Allison Paschke, March 2023
John decided to sail his boat all the way to Rhode Island; I decided to stay with him. We were both able to work part-time. Our time on the boat stretched from two weeks to three months. That is when I began to photograph the sea, shoot videos, and make sound recordings. On board, I have some art supplies and a tiny kiln that I use to make porcelain elements for my work.
From Lark’s deck I spent hundreds of hours just looking at water, sky, clouds, and stars. In the Bahamas, I saw clear aqua water with coral heads under it. I saw shadows of clouds, both on the surface and on the sand under shallow water. In Maine, off the Cape, and near Martha’s Vineyard I saw the softness of fog blending into rough grey green or calm grey blue. One winter I sailed on an eleven-day passage with John and crew from Rhode Island to the Virgin Islands. Offshore, the Atlantic under sun is always a particular color: a bright royal blue. Later I saw rain pounding the sea in our harbor in Domenica, and green ripples reflected from the hills of St. John. I saw Sargasso seaweed floating on the surface, and underwater light while snorkeling. Last summer, my husband crossed the Atlantic with other crew. When I joined him, I saw water in surprisingly varied incarnations in the Mediterranean.
The pieces from the Lark’s thread of light series portray the many moods of the seas that I experienced via sight, motion, and sound.
-Allison Paschke, March 2023
Lark's Thread of Light
