I got stopped dead in my tracks by a question not long ago.
“What’s the low country?”
For anyone raised below the Fall Line in South Carolina, the question is unimaginable.
The Lowcountry (one word, capitalized) is a magical rich area full of sights and scents that you can’t find anywhere else on earth.
The scent of the Lowcountry… A captivating odor of salty air, hot sun on warm cedars and pines, and the fecund rich tang of puff mud…
A land full of water, creeks and rivers that mark the time by the rise and fall of the tides.
Sea islands that march from Charleston to Savannah facing the winds of the Atlantic.
A land full of ghosts, a liminal place where the separation between the worlds gets thin at times.
Pat Conroy captured it perfectly in The Prince of Tides, “To describe our growing up in the low country of South Carolina, I would have to take you to the marsh on a spring day, flush the great blue heron from its silent occupation, scatter marsh hens as we sink to our knees in mud, open you an oyster with a pocketknife and feed it to you from the shell and say, ‘There. That taste. That’s the taste of my childhood.’ ”
That taste of the Lowcountry has been in my mouth and in my studio since January.
There’s no where better to catch the Lowcountry flavor than Edisto Island and Savannah, and I’ve been painting up a storm in both places.
Stay tuned this coming month to watch all the goodness unfold as the paintings start peeking out of the studio!