11x14 oil on canvas, natural wood floating frame

Every summer my mom and I would spend time at the beach. From an early age I learned to comb the edge of the surf and the edge of the dunes for shells. I only wanted to find the beautiful, full, unbroken shells. My mom pointed out the shells that were not whole, the shells with smooth, rounded edges, and beautiful colors. She said they were the best, because even though they were broken, they had a beautiful quality that the unbroken shells didn’t have. Since my childhood I have collected parts of shells, broken but beautiful, in honor of mom.