Proj 20 of 365: all bottled up

(04.28.09)
while some would bring a pinch of sand from the beach, I’d been collecting shells since I could recall. tiny & big shells, imperfect broken and perfect ones, colorful and plain shells, dotted pieces – shells of different sizes, shapes, colors, patterns and looks!

as a young child, I’d learned to love shells – there’s always something fascinating about each piece and I could hold on to one the entire afternoon as I play with my sister in my lola’s sala. my lola used to let us play in the sala, crammed up in a mat with her collection of shells laid out in the floor. maybe, unconsciously, I have taken to this enthrallment with shells from her. in that mat, my sister and I were lost in our own world, where shells were our constant companion – the money or the food to be cooked – depending on what make-believe land we were currently in.

and I grew up, but I never totally forgot how I adored shells. there was a phase in my life not so long ago that I’d never leave the beach without a handful or plastic-full of these gems. for me at that time, it was an outlet – as I walk down the shore with thoughts in my mind, I symbolically pick up a shell to stand for that thought, or a which, or just an expression of what I fell.

i have bottles full of shells at home as proof of these visits to the beach and though I’m still at a loss what to do with these shells, I’m just contented to look at the pieces and remember the memories that brought it inside the bottle.

shells, definitely, are the oceans’ secret to share.