There’s an old joke—and I’m about to prove its timelessness—that there are only three things worth watching forever: fire, water, and other people working. (Presumably while you avoid doing any of those three yourself.)

So there I was, “travelling” to Ontario Lake—which is basically a five-minute walk from my downtown Toronto apartment, but let’s call it travel and feel adventurous—doing art between sips of coffee and existential dread.

Spring morning fog was performing its usual magic trick: making water ripples look like they’ve achieved enlightenment before 9 AM, while I was still figuring out which end of the paintbrush to hold.

Here’s where it gets philosophical (buckle up): when I throw a rock into the water and watch those perfect circles expand outward, I’m basically witnessing the universe’s most patient motivational poster. Each ripple is like the water’s way of saying, “Hey, something happened here. Everything matters.” Which is beautiful, except when you realize most of my “important actions” are just throwing rocks at nature. Still counts as meaning-making, right?

But here’s the kicker—and this is where my brain decided to get uncomfortably deep—if you DON’T look at the circles, if you just throw the rock and walk away, then the whole thing is pointless. It’s not the throwing that matters; it’s witnessing the ripples. Which is basically life, except we’re all terrible at the “witnessing” part because we’re too busy scrolling through our phones. (No judgment. I’m absolutely guilty of this.)

Think about it: all our accomplishments, our achievements, our “I finally got my life together” moments—they’re all like circles on the water. Here today, dispersed by tomorrow, absorbed back into the lake of indifference. The point isn’t that they disappear; the point is that we actually LOOKED at them, that we paid attention to our own ripples. We cared about what we left behind. Which, admittedly, is a lot more meaningful than most of what I do on a Tuesday afternoon—and that’s precisely why this spring is giving me permission to be delightfully philosophical about it. :)

The lake’s waves are pulling off their own art project—reflecting trees, buildings, the skyline—basically acting as nature’s Instagram filter, but with better composition and no ads.

Some spring raindrops plunge into the lake like tiny philosophers themselves, joining the water’s existential crisis. (The lake is very moody this time of year.)

Reflection of trees and water in the lake—basically nature’s way of saying, “Let me show you everything twice so you don’t miss it the first time.”

Claude Monet—a man who clearly understood obsession—once said: “The essence of the motif is the mirror of water, whose appearance alters at every moment.” Which is a fancy way of saying, “Water is always changing, so you better pay attention.” He gets it. He spent years painting the same water lilies from every possible angle because he understood that meaning isn’t fixed. It’s fluid. (I’ll see myself out.)

Bon voyage to you, dear reader! May your next travel adventure be as profound as a pebble hitting water—or at least half as pretentious. Until next time, stay healthy and keep looking at your ripples! :)

All paintings belong to the author. No image is to be copied without permission. (The ripples, however, are free for everyone.)

The tools I use for my paintings—including Watercolour brands Van Gogh and Cotman, plus Canson Mix Media and Watercolour albums (sizes 28×35 cm and 25×35 cm). Everything an artist needs to obsess over water ripples professionally!