Reading Bright Waters
Julie Grist
Sep 24, 2026
To me summer is reading novels on the dock, the water lapping beneath, sun shimmering across the lake as it moves west to end the day.
These days that book, once made of paper, curled at th edges and plump from a spray of unintended water, isn't seen as often. The digital world now brings Kindles and phones and iPads down to the dock, their titles secured in a matter of moments and delivered to one's fingertips to swipe and read. They don't warp with water, but could be rendered dead should they be dropped in the lake. Yet the words are there, taking one into another world, a character's challenges, the arc of a page-turning plot. Does it matter if it's read on the page made from wood pulp or via a satelite? I don't think so. As long as one is reading.
As the summer season draws to a close, I dabbled in some more abstract portraits using oils and cold wax to find the sun glimmering off the lake as a young niece pulls up her book on a tablet, and lands in another world, if just until the sun goes down.
"Bright Waters" - mixed media - 12" x 12" framed on cradled board.
Reading Bright Waters
Julie Grist
Sep 24, 2026
To me summer is reading novels on the dock, the water lapping beneath, sun shimmering across the lake as it moves west to end the day.
These days that book, once made of paper, curled at th edges and plump from a spray of unintended water, isn't seen as often. The digital world now brings Kindles and phones and iPads down to the dock, their titles secured in a matter of moments and delivered to one's fingertips to swipe and read. They don't warp with water, but could be rendered dead should they be dropped in the lake. Yet the words are there, taking one into another world, a character's challenges, the arc of a page-turning plot. Does it matter if it's read on the page made from wood pulp or via a satelite? I don't think so. As long as one is reading.
As the summer season draws to a close, I dabbled in some more abstract portraits using oils and cold wax to find the sun glimmering off the lake as a young niece pulls up her book on a tablet, and lands in another world, if just until the sun goes down.
"Bright Waters" - mixed media - 12" x 12" framed on cradled board.
Reading Bright Waters
Julie Grist
Sep 24, 2026
To me summer is reading novels on the dock, the water lapping beneath, sun shimmering across the lake as it moves west to end the day.
These days that book, once made of paper, curled at th edges and plump from a spray of unintended water, isn't seen as often. The digital world now brings Kindles and phones and iPads down to the dock, their titles secured in a matter of moments and delivered to one's fingertips to swipe and read. They don't warp with water, but could be rendered dead should they be dropped in the lake. Yet the words are there, taking one into another world, a character's challenges, the arc of a page-turning plot. Does it matter if it's read on the page made from wood pulp or via a satelite? I don't think so. As long as one is reading.
As the summer season draws to a close, I dabbled in some more abstract portraits using oils and cold wax to find the sun glimmering off the lake as a young niece pulls up her book on a tablet, and lands in another world, if just until the sun goes down.
"Bright Waters" - mixed media - 12" x 12" framed on cradled board.