Once the Sea was Eden

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Acrylic on canvas. Brushwork. Varnished. Representational magical realism.

Long ago, before nets or engines or names, the Sea was not a place, it was a garden. Its gardener was not man, but something older, a being who breathed with the tides, whose arms shimmered with kelp and light, whose body was coral, fishbone, and sun. The creatures did not fear him.

They came to him the octopus curled at his feet, the turtles rode the currents of his breath. Even the storms bent around his voice. He gave nothing but balance. And in return, the sea sang. But the ones who walk on land did not know how to receive without taking.

They netted the singers. They broke the reef into souvenirs. They turned Eden into hunger. The god sank slowly beneath the weight of what we wanted. Now he waits. Not in wrath — but in memory. In the deep places. Among plastic and silence.

Still beautiful. Still listening.

Still loving us.