It has been a beautiful spring. The camelias were still blooming when the azaleas began to open, which is very unusual. Normally the last of the camellias have long since fallen before the vibrant fuchsia of the azalea bushes color the South. Now I am watching the blackberry vines, as their white petals begin to fall revealing the tiniest of green berries. Cobbler time is not far away as I look forward to blackberry picking for the first time in many years.
I have started a fourth in my “Faded Beauty” series. It is a 24×48″ and like many of my shells, will be suitable to hang both vertically and horizontally. A worn and weathered whelk, unbroken but for a few chips on her lip. The waves have worn away this shell’s original outward beauty. She is smoother now, less prized by many, unnoticed by some. So be it…the beauty the aged shells have is there, if we are only willing to see.
I am reminded of a poem I wrote about a year ago. I was a few hours into painting another shell when it came to me.
I Am a Shell
I am a Shell,
A Shell of who I once was,
A Shell of who I will become,
Worn smooth with time.
Beautiful from experience.
Broken yet whole.
Deep in my body,
Singing the song of the Ocean
When I am still and all is quiet
And I listen.
All the best to you and your loved ones.
Agape,
Margaret