Assuming the squat position over a pile of stones and shells instantly takes me back to memories of rocky Atlantic beaches in the Caribbean.
I could spend hours in that position hunting for shells of a particular size and shape. But right now I am near Crescent Beach in Portland, Maine atop fibrous rocks that splinter like wood and seem closer to giant petrified logs than coastal shale.
My low-position has me eyeing for splinter stones, worn smooth but still more spike-like than I’ve ever seen in New England–reminding me of another Caribbean memory–choosing a beach by the kind of shell or stone gathering I wanted to do.
The challenge I set for myself now is how to transform these forms into drawings, little abstractions of memory and moment.