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January 11, 2018


I like the idea of a themed artist's journal very much. And these are quite beautiful.

Love your sea shells, Beth. Mystical and calming like walking a labyrinth.

I had a friend who identified deeply with the nautilus shell, which grows to increasingly larger chambers throughout its life and was for her a metaphor of renewal. So while I have felt melancholy encountering an empty shell, she had nautilus shells scattered throughout her home, and named it Nautilus Cottage. (It was on Cape Cod.) I hope you collect the drawings, for the book or for a series of prints.

My comment never made it through, so I'll try again: the second-last image, the detail of the two shells, is especially wonderful. Those colours and textures! (And do I detect a splotch of Sargent-esque white gouache?)

I have been thinking about this post for a few days. It is high season for oysters in Quebec now, and my mind goes also to the soft wetness of the creatures that live in these shells, the way they are so evidently part of the sea itself, its briney-ness and ebb and flow ness. It makes me feel so cut off and landlocked in one sense, and opens me up to the illusoriness of that also. The shell as boundary. Temporary. Necessary. Etc. So much here. And you are working on the edge(s) in several ways. Felicitations!

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Who was Cassandra?

  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.