Effortlessly I glide through a sapphire sea, admiring sparkles on the underside of slick, moving wavelets rimmed with light, gently cupping an ephemeral bit of living jelly in my hand, then turning to glimpse a dazzling sight: corals, sponges, anemones, in a riot of soft pinks, blazing reds, luminous oranges, all marked with the disciplined wildness that I love in nature—and in the Seaforms.
I want to touch my tongue to the ice-clear blue smoothness of one, taste the colors allow the texture to merge with the skin of my fingertips, feel the links between humankind and that realm where most of life on earth is concentrated—the sea.
— Sylvia Earle on Chihuly Seaforms
