Breakers Nautilus

Watercolor asks you to slow down and paint what's actually in front of you, not what you assume is there. With Breakers Nautilus I tried to do just that — a cross-section of the shell, its chambers spiraling inward in creams, burnt siennas, and soft earthy browns. The geometry is the shell's, not mine; I just followed it partition by partition and tried not to get in its way.

The pale green wash across the top came from a specific request. A designer was reworking the Mezzanine at The Breakers, the old hotel on Palm Beach Island, and gave me the new palette to paint into. This piece and its companion, Breakers Triton, were framed in gold and hung there as part of that redesign. I was told it was the first time the hotel had bought work from a local artist — which I still find hard to believe, and am grateful for.

I set the shell on plain white because it didn't seem to need anything else. It's a quiet piece. It has held up well in the years since, and I'm still fond of the patience it taught me.