Gifts from the sea

Sea shells must be one of nature's

most beautiful creations.

Just like human beings, no two are alike.

They contain the mysteries of the deep

within their folds and crevices.

Often times I find their imperfections

are what appeals to me the most.





When displayed individually in a sculptural glass jar,

a sea star becomes a piece of art.





Bits of mother-of-pearl add textural contrast

to a smooth, milk glass bowl.




A grouping of some of my favorite shells

sits proudly atop the piano.




More sea-polished bits are collected in a wooden bowl

lined with mother-of-pearl.

Broken, fragmented shells rest proudly atop

a lacy plate. The shades of gray remind me

of overcast days at the beach.

Even the lampshade joins the party.

Unlike Anne Morrow Lindberg, I have not had the

luxury of spending solitary time

on a sea island gathering my own shells

as the tides roll in and out.

These have been gleaned from the collection of others

(family and friends), and thus bring their

stories into my home.

In this case, each shell is literally a gift.

They serve as reminders of those gone before,

both human and crustacean.

They help me stay connected to the ebb and flow,

the rhythms of communion and solitude,

which punctuate my life.

And lastly they keep me connected to the

humble beauty of nature's treasures.

Until next time...
Anne