My Sanctuary

ViEW + REFLECTiON 12/8/2025 at sunset from the North Torrey Pines BRiDGE

At low tide, the beach in Del Mar becomes a temporary studio. At sunset, it becomes a sanctuary. That combination alone turns any sand drawing into more than decoration—it becomes a quiet moment of meaning offered to whomever happens to be there before the ocean claims it with the following tidal cycle. Yesterday (12/8/2025), the “I am Groot” installation by @SandArtSD below the bridge connecting Del Mar and Torrey Pines I crossed twice daily before the pandemic for work for 5 yrs, felt like that kind of offering: playful on the surface, surprisingly profound in context.

Even though the phrase reads as classic Groot, the figure itself appears to be Baby Groot—rounder, smaller, more wide-eyed and tender. That matters. Adult Groot is stoic strength; Baby Groot is emerging possibility. He represents the early stages of becoming—innocence that is not naive, but hopeful. In a place like Del Mar, surrounded by the motion of tide and time, Baby Groot reads like a symbol of new roots taking hold in a shifting world.

This is where the scene starts to harmonize with another local language of belonging: the woven flow idea and logo of an inspirational conclusion of @SanDiegoFC  ’s first MLS season, the notion that many communities can be held inside one pattern. If we view the daisies through that lens—petals as places, circles as unity—the three flowers become more than cheerful shapes. They can be interpreted as a small constellation of community: distinct, repeated, connected.

Three is also a quietly powerful number for balance—compositionally and symbolically. It can suggest past, present, and future; land, sea, and sky; or the simple truth that growth is never solitary. A seed becomes a plant because an ecosystem agrees to support it. Many living on Earth today (including myself) were raised in awe of the mysteries of The Holy Trinity. And, if you are familiar with the legends: Ocarina of Time, Breath of the Wild, and A Link to the Past, you have likely explored an open world in defense of a sacred, all-powerful golden relic known as The Triforce representing 3 Goddesses who created Hyrule: Din, Nayru, and Farore, each embodying a core virtue: Power, Wisdom, and Courage, respectively.

Against those soft, organic forms, the geometric grid patterns feel like the human impulse to organize, name, and make meaning—our attempt to bring structure to awe. Then the tidal curve sweeps around the whole scene like a signature from nature itself, reminding us that no matter how carefully we build our patterns, we are still participating in something larger, older, and beautifully uncontrollable.

That’s why the medium is the deepest message. This art was made to disappear. And because it was made with that knowledge, it becomes a gentle practice of humility: to create something delightful without needing to keep it forever. Baby Groot, the symbol of new life, stands on sand—one of the most impermanent canvases on earth—under a sky that changes color by the minute. The result is a kind of coastal truth: we grow, we belong, we create, and we let go.

In that sense, the piece isn’t just “I am Groot.”

When I took a break from my evening run/walk/jump rope/dance workout routine to overlook the masterpiece, I felt present. I felt alive, and I “wiggled my toes" as I would have suggested it also reads: “We are here. We are connected. We are becoming.”

I could not help but ask myself: “What are humankind’s biggest obstacles to UNiTE with a shared purpose?” and "What was the intended message of the artist or artists?"

What do you think?