Broken Shells

Creativity

Mar 24

Artist Statement

My husband and I moved our family to the North Fork of Long Island this fall.

We are starting over and coming home all at once.

We were ending a walk in the parking lot at Nassau Point Beach. I noticed a number of broken whelk shells on the pavement. The seagulls dropped them in order to eat the meat inside. I have never seen so many in one place. My husband searched for whole ones. I liked the broken ones. The cracks revealed the sculpted pattern inside. The whelk shells resonate with me and life in 2020/21.

2020 was a year of loss for me personally as well as for everyone. The Coronavirus pandemic killed many victims - too many died alone. Too many grieve those they loved. Racism, violence, and partisanship caused new fissures in our country. Addiction, cancer, suicide, depression, and anxiety were ever present. Personally, I lost my father to brain cancer and my aunt to galloping ALS.

I picked one up. Light poured through the cracks and holes and fractured sides of the whelk. It filled the normally dark spiral with light. I could see the spiral better. It reflected the light more. It made the shell more of a shell - a container… of light-filled shadows.

My former art professor, Brooks Fredericks, once shouted out in a drawing class, “Let light tell the story!” Light told me a story.