Shells

 

I have vivid memories of sitting on the beach as a small child, feeling the warmth of the sun on my bare skin as I watched my grandfather cross the line of rocks at the shoreline and navigate the ribbons of sand left behind at low tide.  He would snorkel out into the low water until I saw only a tiny dot against the horizon, and as the dot grew larger again I knew he had found treasure.  The knobbed whelk shells he brought back would be boiled and cleaned at our Cape house, a collection that grew larger every year until he could no longer venture into the waters that brought him so much peace.  Sculpting these shells is my way of growing the collection again, in the same methodical and loving manner that Grandpa embodied so well.

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Each of these shells makes its own unique sound, either by air whistling softly through carved crevices, or with the tiny tinkling of beads hidden within hollow spaces.  They have both been accepted into the Perfect Pitch show at Studio 550 in Manchester, NH, and will be on display there from March 20th-May 3rd.

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