Oyster Shells… Are They Real?

I recently began working on a new series of oyster shell paintings, and along the way I’ve discovered something unexpected—oysters are incredibly beautiful.

For most of my life, I’ve walked beaches with my head down, searching for shells. I spent every summer on the south shore of Long Island, where the ocean would offer up a variety of treasures—whelks, little necks, and so many delicate, colorful shells that I loved to collect and bring home. Even now, I keep small collections in glass jars on my mantel, each one holding a memory from a different shoreline.

When I moved to Connecticut nearly six years ago, I started exploring the beaches along Long Island Sound. I’ll admit, I was a bit of a beach snob at first. Compared to the ocean beaches I knew, these shores felt rocky and sparse—more stones than shells. I remember thinking, “eh,” and feeling a little disappointed.

But one day, while walking at Calf Pasture Beach in Norwalk, something shifted.

As usual, I was scanning the ground, hoping to spot something interesting. And there it was—a shell I had seen countless times before back on Long Island, but had always overlooked. Dark, gray, a little gnarly… nothing I had ever considered “beautiful.”

An oyster shell.

This time, I picked it up and really looked. Beneath its rough exterior were soft whites, subtle grays, and even hints of pink. The surface was layered with sculptural patterns—very unique. And suddenly, I couldn’t stop seeing them. They were everywhere.

I pulled out my phone and took a photo. A thought crossed my mind: this might make a beautiful and interesting painting.

Being curious, I started learning more about oysters in this area. I discovered that Norwalk has a rich oyster history dating back to Native Americans, who relied on oysters as an abundant and vital food source. The Connecticut shoreline, with its many rivers flowing into the Sound, creates the perfect environment for oysters to thrive.

Although the oyster industry declined over time due to over harvesting and storms, there has been a meaningful effort to restore it—and today, oysters in Long Island Sound are making a strong return.

The more I look at these shells, the more fascinating they become. Some are sun-bleached and pale, others darker with deep, finger-like grooves that almost feel hand-formed. Each one tells a story of time, the tides of the sound, and transformation.

I recently spent another afternoon walking the beach, photographing these overlooked treasures. I’ll be turning them into a series of small mixed media paintings, coming soon to my website.

All of these upcoming paintings will be for sale.