Boats on Douro river

Alt text: Turquoise water with two reddish-brown boats decorated with pink spirals under a golden sky

Detailed description:

Leidari Dey

Boats on the Douro River.

Acrylic on canvas (stretched on stretcher bars, unframed).

30×24 cm, horizontal.

Style: Abstract with figurative elements.

The painting is dominated by shades of turquoise and blue, forming a layered water surface across most of the canvas.

In the middle area are two elongated boat-like shapes painted in reddish-brown tones. The boats are positioned close together, with one slightly behind the other so that their forms partially overlap. Their surfaces are decorated with repeated spiral patterns in light pink and beige. Each boat has a thin vertical mast with several diagonal lines extending from it, suggesting ropes or rigging.

On the left side of the composition, several angular red lines extend diagonally across the water. These forms resemble a semi-abstract depiction of oars.

Dark blue and gray shapes in the upper part of the painting form a continuous horizontal band resembling a distant shoreline.

The top section of the canvas is filled with a wide golden area covered with repeating spiral motifs in light pink tones.

Across the lower part of the painting, curved red lines are placed over the turquoise background, forming loose, irregular patterns across the water surface.

I mean, I understand that being dissatisfied with one’s own lot is a foolish and banal thing — and it’s bad for my karma, after all — but here I sit: hungry, wretched, and bitter, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. There are millions of stars in the sky, yet they haven’t aligned into a kind banker’s phone number, a supportive smile, a portrait of a first love, or any other good omen. Finding yourself in a total mess of a life is stupid; it’s even more stupid to find out that the mess is actually you.

But when there isn’t a hint of a happy ending around, not a single promise, not even a lousy karmic lesson — just total silence — that is truly terrifying. To go unnoticed, to find yourself as an absence — an absence of life, an absence of meaning, and a total absence of conscience — was more frightening than anything I had ever felt before.

I sat there, digging my hands into the sand, letting the waves wash over my feet, my ankles, my shins.

This, too, shall pass.