Marooned Carp, from the Rio Grande, caught in the irrigation canal and released into the ditch where it will hopefully find its way back to the river, photo © 2007 by Jim. All rights reserved.
The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy defines the metaphor “fish out of water” as someone who is out of his or her normal environment or range of activities.*
The Phrase Finder cites an early use by Chaucer in a version of the prologue to The Canterbury Tales —
…a monk, when he is cloisterless
Is like to a fish that is waterless
— and found the earliest reference in Samuel Purchas’ Pilgrimage, 1613:
The Arabians out of the deserts are as Fishes out of the Water.
If fish have been finding themselves out of water for almost 400 years, surely in our short lives we have each found ourselves in situations or settings where we did not belong.
Have you? Have you left your so-called “comfort zone”? If so, did you flounder and gasp for air, or did you grow legs and walk? Maybe you are in a perpetual state of being different.
We all seem to know the feeling, whether constant or fleeting, of the poor wild-eyed fish, gasping and flopping, awaiting a sure death unless whisked to familiar terrain.
Think about those times in your life. How did they feel? Did you panic? If so, don’t panic now. Breathe deeply, center yourself, then take out your pen and notebook. At the top of a page write these words, “I feel like a fish out of water when…” Then write for ten minutes. Keep your hand moving as if it were that fish, finally let free.
*The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, Third Edition. Edited by E.D. Hirsch, Jr., Joseph F. Kett, and James Trefil. Copyright © 2002 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.
NOTICE: No animals were harmed in the making of this post. In fact, one was rescued.
This is a great topic, one I think we all can relate to. The photo of the carp reminds me of a memory I have from the South. When I was a kid, my step-dad caught one of the biggest fish I had ever seen – he said it was a carp. I guess they are bottom feeders, scavengers, and can become giants in their world. They are resilient and have great survival instincts. I think this one will make it back to the river.
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This was a big fish, too, QM. I was amazed. When Jim said there was a fish trapped in the canal, I thought it was some littleish fish. This one was big and strong still. It didn’t have far to go to get to the river, and it had all night to get there.
Did your step-dad eat carp? I wonder if they’re at all good eating fish. I see people fishing in the ditch all the time, which is what makes me wonder.
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No, we never ate the carp. But I think it was known to be eaten in some of the poorer communities back then. Easy to catch and big enough to feed a lot of the family.
We were more attuned to catfish and my Granddaddy’s catfish stew was to die for. I used to love the big pots of it they would make out in the yard over the fire after a fishing trip.
Of course, I can’t eat fish now, only shellfish. I’ve developed an allergy as an adult to any other kind of fish but shellfish. Strange, I know. I do miss having a good ol’ catfish dinner once in a while.
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Good topic! I’ll give it a shot. I was telling my wife something to this effect just a few days ago…
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I am in a perpetual state of being different. At least in my beadwork, I am… 🙂
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I have to say, I have never seen anyone else do the things with beads that you do!
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Wonderful topic.
I didn’t know carp were so expressive looking, with that design of scales; dark light dark light zigs and zags
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Yes, it was a nice-looking fish. Mostly what stood out for me was the look in the eye of, Oh no!
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Wow, I’m hard to say otherwise. Is it the fish out of water?
No! I don’t think so. That’s the portrait of me!
I took a look at Marooned carp and my heart was pierced with the sense of all that I was trying to picture in my blogs.
The photo captures and leaves me speechless. I recognize the awful story, but must admit that it touches with the beauty of artistic presentation – wow, lights of the eternities and the blood that leaves no traces. .. Is it possible?
Your artwork puts me into awe. The Marooned carp lists the archives of my Captain’s bridge (see on http://captains-bridge.blogspot.com) and I’m watching the best of best of my own visual thoughts.
While looking at your photo, I have sensed myself in Modus Vivendi club. That’s the club of art therapy for the people with psychiatric disorders – I recognized myself in the world where the smile don’t guest and therefore the colorful pictures are the miracles in a literal sense of a word.
Sorry for my shifting from the review of your post to my own memoirs, but that’s exactly what was inspired by your posts. While watching your fish out of water, I was looking at myself and listening to my own heart – to the spirit that indwells in us all.
I would greatly appreciate your visit to my blogs and the feedback. Just click on the links
http://captains-bridge.blogspot.com
http://trustlight.blogspot.com
http://candleday.wordpress.com
http://colourrain.blogspot.com
http://trans4mind.com/karkalas
Thank you
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