Every summer, my family follows the New Jersey tradition of heading down the shore. And like most, we can’t resist wandering along the beach collecting shells. Of course, I can’t just pick up the usual perfect specimens. I tend to look for the more “interesting” shells, the weathered ones with a little history to them.
This photograph is of one of these shells, eroded and softened by the waves. I was fascinated by its subtle interplay of grays and whites, colors I normally associate with winter. In those colors I saw a snowstorm blowing across a mountain range, the drifting snow revealing the ice and stone beneath. I love the idea of creating a photograph about winter from a shell saved during the height of summer, of a mountain range created from something found at the sea.
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