October 19th, 2014

Okay, I admit it. I am totally obsessed with shells. I find each and every one of them fascinating. As I stroll on a beach, I am overcome with the urge to pick them up one by one. Each has its own distinct design and/or imperfection. It's gotten to the point that it's not how many I take home, but what poundage. My office has them everywhere, a bowl of them here, a large vase of them there. Even some of the broken ones make it home.

I can't help thinking that we think about shells like we do people. Each has his or her imperfections. We judge them by their outward beauty. No cracks or dings are accepted. I think about that every time I cast a shell aside. It's amazing though. Even the broken shells in the right setting are beautiful.