Broken Shells

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.   

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted 

and saves those who are crushed in spirit.  (Psalm 34:18)

I hope you enjoy my recent sketches and drawings.  Some of them are dedicated to those who recently lost loved ones.   

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