Saturday, May 5, 2012


My favorite shell.

Attended another craft/flea fair, but this time the only good thing about this affair was having an extended period of time to sit and talk with my mother. It was the first time since attending such sales events that I just barely made my table. The venue itself was completely inappropriate for me, but still there was much to take away and learn from as the day rolled by. Thankfully, by mid morning it warmed up. Sitting and not selling is better when the sun is out.

The worst part about such a day is reloading stuff into the car you didn't think you'd have to touch again cause it would be in the hands of another person. Needless to say, I unloaded the boxes and crates once home and just left them in the living room. I'll deal with them tomorrow.

Of course there is always a huge amount of reflection when art isn't sold or isn't accepted readily. This had nothing to do with my art. It was just a different type of venue and as I purged negative thoughts about my work (cause that is what happens to artists when things like this occur) my book of poems by Tennyson caught my eye. I said to myself that I would illustrate the first paragraph I saw when I opened the book. How fitting it landed to a paragraph about a shell and I immediately felt the need to pick up and study the most beautiful shell I have ever found on a beach. It's just one of those things I can't explain, cause it doesn't look like much, but it is a permanent piece in my studio and is always near where I can view it. I've drawn it so many times and I have yet to come close in capturing its beauty. I've come to the conclusion I probably never will capture it but it is always a challenge to try.

"The Shell"
Graphite and watercolor on watercolor paper.

"See what a lovely shell,
Small and pure as a pearl,
Lying close to my foot,
Frail, but a work divine,
Made so fairly well
With delicate spire and whorl,
How exquisitely minute,
A miracle of design!


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