Why these shells?

I've been drawing and painting more shells as the year begins.

 

A friend asked why.

 

I don't know exactly," I answered, and then thought about it...

I think shells are related, in my visual language, to skulls and bones; I like drawing them and adding them to still lives. And unlike the skulls and bones, clear symbols of mortality, shells are not exactly dead -- they're more like former homes, and related to the sea. So, for me they're evocative of the refugees who undertake perilous journeys across the seas.

But they're also quite challenging to draw properly because their growth is often an off-center spiral, not circular. I like the worn, broken ones especially, both for what they say and because they're beautiful in a different way from something perfectly preserved.

 

I've collected a lot of shells and beach stones, and most of them are sitting around in my studio. I'm trying to increase my fluency with them, but this is also therapeutic work when I'm feeling unsettled. And I end up with paintings and drawings: something real and tangible, rather than hours of aimless worry about a world I have little power to change. I've thought of writing and illustrating a small book about different land/sea edges: a sort of artist's journal, with essays like the one I wrote a few posts back about the sea. But it's just a thought.

What do you think?

(There are additional paintings and larger images at my artist's website.)