Hi

I have always liked to pick up shells. Nothing is more intricate that can be found on the ground so easy by so many people, and is so durable but as fragile at the same time-hard as rock, most can be crushed by a shoe. Thoughts are like that-they can be powerful but unexpressed, lose their power. I like to muddle about and think about odd and random things, so loitering among the shells stands for musing over thoughts, the way you do the shells you collect at the beach. I often wonder where they came from, the little creatures who lived inside them once, and what things they saw when they were in these shells.