MORNING, PORT FOURCHON, FROM EVANS CANAL
Having spent the night in a hammock, on my boat, this is the image that greeted me and a friend, as we sped out for a day of fishing.
The quiet and restful aura of the old camp in the foreground, juxtaposed against a backdrop of a frenzied, round the clock bustle of the port which serves to produce much of our nation’s energy supply…and above and beyond all…the life-giving light, the sun…illumines the whole dramatic metaphor.
It has been rightfully concluded that oil, is liquid sun; a powerful source of energy, which has lifted great burdens off of humanity, and positively enhanced our struggle to survive and prosper. The boats that put that tasty Louisiana seafood on our tables, or enable fishermen to interrupt their common labors but for a day, the comforting lights in the windows of the camp…all based on the very substance which has made possible, even the wondrous phenomena such as the computer on which I type these words.
This painting is a metaphorical image…the sun…stored in the bowels of the earth, and passed through the Port Fourchon in it‘s liquid form…and given to the utility - in all creative manner and form - and folly of man. A spectacular and fascinating drama, in an infinitely unique and specific time and place.
Hurricane Gustav, and Ike, passed directly over this area, not long after I witnessed this imagery. In all likelihood…the old camp only now exist in the record of this painting, and the minds of the grandfather, and his grandson Chris, and Chris’ energetic Lab as well …who enjoyed many days and much love, under the sun, in the bountiful Louisiana marsh.
“Ashes to ashes…dust to dust”…quietly bids the wise traveler, to all the more savor the now, and thankfully and joyfully embrace the change, that the morrow will most surely bring.
RC Davis
