Broken Too

I am obsessed with broken shells. I love their flawed, imperfect beauty. Their imperfections tell a story that unbroken, unblemished shells do not. Jagged and sharp, or worn smooth with soft edges formed by the passage of time and the power of the ocean. Soft subtle remnants of their brilliant colors or bleached white as bones left to lie in the sun. Baring their inner spiraled hearts, battered and broken, tossed aside and finally washed ashore. There they lay exposed in their beautiful brokenness until I, damaged and imperfect myself, find them.

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About joliepetitemaison

"In the end, it’s not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away" Shing Xiong. My quest is my passion to find beauty in all things. To remember to try to live in the moment, to really “see” and hopefully to capture the beauty that surrounds us in everyday life. I aspire to transcend traditional ideas and to creatively through my photographs express my own unique point of view.
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2 Responses to Broken Too

  1. I’ve picked up a few broken shells in my time, but never thought of them like that. Thank you!

    • I used to try to find one perfect shell every time I walked on the beach. I’ve tossed hundreds of broken shells aside. Then one day I found a large broken, bleached out shell and it reminded me of Georgia O’Keefe”s skull paintings. It was beautiful and it made me think about the strange, eerie beauty of broken things: shells, toys, people…

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