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Showing posts from February, 2012

“There is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost.” — Martha Graham

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What is it about a person that can look at a sandy beach and create a sculpture from the sand. Start with a blank canvas   (Credit:  www.blog.everythingwallart.com) and take the vision of their mind's eye & paint it in a picture. The creative genius in a person has always captivated me. I especially admire the artists that are daring enough to make a living at it. It has to be a be a God-given gift to look at a blank canvas, a slab of marble, or an cast-off piece of wood and create something even more beautiful out of it. Or maybe it's just the kid inside who never traded the wonder of  his crayons & coloring books for the more mature things in life. (Credit:  www.ronniebo.com) Artist  Jon Hatch  sees this (www.jon-hatch-originals.com) and creates this. The Hatch Gallery is located in in the Historic Placida Fishing Village . Jon Hatch is  an artist who takes nature's cast offs

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it's always ourselves we find in the sea. - e.e. cummings

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(Credit: Beachcomber Simple Living Blog) Sally Lee By the Sea  is one of my daily stops in  blogville.  This seaside blog emanates all things beachy & coastal.  Get your daily fix of ocean-going  home dec, shopping, beach crafts, & travel all brought to you by mother/daughter team Marie & Liz.  I love the print boxes they are featuring today as shell displays.  In my own home I have re-used the print box/shadow boxes from my own childhood to display my best "keeper" shells on my living room wall.  A  coat of Caribbean blue spray paint gave them new life & is a nice tropical background to show off every shell & beach combing find.   My display changes with the ebb & flow of tides of new shells, give away's, & thrifting finds. The pride of SWFL - junonias line the top (sadly, none of which I have found). Bobbers, old bottle bottom, & a shell belle made by my mom are all considered worthy of display in the box. Sunrise telli

Heights by great men reached and kept were not obtained by sudden flight but, while their companions slept, they were toiling (Stooping) upward in the night. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (added TEB)

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On Friday February 17, 2012 - 700 Sanibel Stoopers set a Guinness World Record on Bowman's Beach - Sanibel Island, Florida.   Whether it's education, athletics, business, or hobbies; everything we pursue in life has it's pinnacle of success.  Runners have the Boston Marathon, world leaders have the Nobel Prize, B-level celebrities have Dancing with the Stars. I'm not a very competitive person. The only award I ever won as a kid was 2nd place in a 50 yard dash when I was 10. In high school I kept a pretty low profile.  As an adult I have been pretty satisfied to keep my hobbies & interests on a casual level except for beach combing. Shells are my passion.  Finding them, learning about them, making things with them, & collecting more of them has been a pursuit of mine for many years. There are awards in shelling - that's what shell shows are for.  Unfortunately, my mermaid mosiac was 5 inches too wide to enter into the Sanibel Shell Show.  My dream of
Friday morning sunrise on Bowman's Beach.
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This line is heading for the beach to set the world record. 
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Sunrise on Sanibel. Shellbelle found a hunk of junonia.
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Good morning from Bowman's Beach on Sanibel. 

Let the Shellabration begin!!

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The truck is gassed up, my gear is packed, & all I'm waiting on is for my shell sistah Shellbelle to arrive.  We are headed south to Sanibel to be a part of the group of Sanibel Stoopers going after a new world record for the most shellers on a beach doing the Sanibel Stoop at one time.  I'm going to attempt to do some mobile blogging throughout the day for those of you that won't be with us :(  You'll be missed but be assured Shellbelle & I are committed to the cause - Making the Planet a Better Place One Shell At A Time! Cute cartoon that only beach combers understand from the Boca Grande Beacon newspaper.

Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

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(Credit:  www.flickr.com/photos/asimgoheer/468025798) I love the sounds of the night. My best thinking, mulling over, & creative processing is done at night.  Over the years I have tried & tried to adjust my body clock to being a morning person.  Truthfully, there just isn't enough coffee on the planet to make it happen.  My most recent job required me to be at work at 6am which meant I had to get up at 4am to ensure I was showered & ready for work.  It was a painful experience.  (the job & the getting up early)  I'm just one of those people that comes alive after dark.  I discovered night time shelling out of necessity.  I worked all day & by the time I finished my domestic duties at home - well it was dark.  One night there was an especially low tide at 10pm.  I hadn't been shelling in forever because my daylight hours were being dedicated to earning a living & wifely chores. The hubby had already watched CSI & was sleeping in his chai