I was born on Long Island. We often went to the beach when I was a little girl. My Mother used to call me her little water rat, because I never wanted to leave the ocean when it was time to head home. My fingers and toes were shriveled up, wrinkly prunes by the time I would finally surrender.
I still gravitate to the ocean. Always have. I am not, however, a beach bum. I really don’t enjoy laying on the hot sand, smelling my own flesh burning to a crisp. But I love the beach, the water, the ocean. It has a calming effect on me.
I much prefer walking up and down the sand, the foamy,cold surf gently washing over my feet and ankles, getting lost in the azure water, for as far as the eye can see. I love the sound the ocean makes as the tide rolls in and out. The salty smell in the air and the squawk of seagulls makes me feel like I am home. Calm and alive. My mind plays the song, La Mer.
It is no surprise to me, that while I stroll the coast, I hunt for buried treasure. Beautiful shells, colorful tumbled sea glass, broken coral, pristine white rocks and dark onyx black ones…smooth as silk from the ride they have been taking in the surf. Sometimes I must pounce quickly upon my prize as I watch the tide pulling it violently back under. Who will win…me or the sea? Only time will tell.
I love collecting these treasures and stuffing them in my pockets. I bring them home and have fun creating ways to use and display them.
In little vignettes around my home, they make me feel relaxed, connected to the water, the sea. The colors, all found in nature, work with any palette.
White, black, grey, blue, brown, peach and pink. Whole or broken pieces, no matter, they all mingle together in my home, like they mingle in the ocean. And bring back fond memories of the places they have been gathered from.
Photos: Treasures of the sea, collected along the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, on display in my home.