Up in the wee hours to write, draw and generally sneak in a little ME time before the workday begins. I have my alarm (clock) set to go off around 5:30 but always seem to wake up before it goes off - just enough that it is too late to go back to sleep and get another good rem cycle in, but too early to actually get UP. But today I got up anyway...remnants of daylight savings time (by which it is 5:30).
My alarm is actually the sound of the surf. It is a gentle and very soothing sound that I sometimes use to go to sleep by, too. I live nowhere near surf of any kind so I chose it to connect with the sea. I am not sure why. It is a gut thing. I have never lived near the ocean and have visited it only a few times in my life (I prefer mountains). Yet I LOVE the sound of the surf, and find myself frequently creating abstract seascapes in both fiber art and collages. I do know that my ancestors were seafarers. My ggggrandfather owned a shipyard in PEI and I believe his father owned either the yard or a ship in England, and his father before that, and so on. And, obviously, all of my Euro ancestors crossed the pond at some point, since I am a north American several generations deep. I fantasize that the lure of the sea is something like a genetic memory, a siren song from deep in my soul. Not that I have any desire to sail on the sea, but I do enjoy recreating its colors and essence through art.
The sound of the pounding surf waking me from sleep seems gentle and nurturing. Admittedly it does wake me slowly and there have been occasions when that was not a good thing (like when I have to race around like a madwoman to catch an early flight). But usually, I do better during the day if I am not jolted out of sleep by a jarring and abrasive clanging or buzzing of some sort. My surf alarm is one of the things I do for myself, I guess. Since I have to get up by a certain time to make it to my day job, I choose to be pulled into the day with the soothing sounds of the surf. Like my collages, my morning is embellished by contrasts - sounds of the surf, frequent dry dusty winds and either brutal heat or bone-chilling wind-chills. Gotta love it!