BEACH FINDS is inspired by the changes I have witnessed over time walking on the beach in our neighbourhood. There was one day in particular that became the catalyst for the project. On this morning the winds, waves and sand had conspired to create an undulating line of debris down the shore. The tide had deposited materials of colour and varied textures made of broken bits of garbage, styrofoam, plastics and tiny shells overnight.
Down the length of the beach the tideline had become very visible. It was shocking, disgusting and beautiful at the same time. It appealed to my drawing and collage sensibilities but also angered me. I went home and grabbed my camera.
I love our beach. It holds many memories of family vacations, of our young children playing in the sand and learning to boogie board in the ocean. I discovered how to face my fear of the power of the surf, to know when to swim through the break or let it knock me over. My husband relaxed many afternoons on a beach chair alongside his father. I am sure countless other families have experienced the same. I never thought about the stewardship of the beach back then. We enjoyed the sun, sand and surf without having to share too much of it with others.
The day I saw the line on the beach, things changed for me.
I no longer could look the other way or pretend to be in the past.
I could not deny the beach was changing and I feared that over-development would destroy the beauty that brought us to the area in the first place.
I began to notice objects that were different from the typical shells and sea glass that most tourists take home as souvenirs. I looked for the unusual, the things that should not be there but were. I was interested in textures and worn-weathered surfaces shaped by the continuous action of the surf. These often were found in the form of brick and tile construction materials in a state of transformation. If I found myself asking, “Is it a rock or is it a brick so worn as to look like a rock?” then I would pick it up. Some of the materials I found still had cement or paint attached creating a palimpsest of layer and colour, an image as its own abstract design.
Objects such as fragments of glass bottles that had been rounded into sea glass were relatively common and tiny. Beer bottle metal tops encrusted with rust and sand were usually found on higher ground. The rare beach finds were the shards of aluminum cans that resembled broken oyster shells. I thought that the patina of the can was similar to the pearl sheen of the shell. I liked that there are similarities between the two, that one carried characteristics of the other.
Once I found a waterlogged twig. I have not found another since. It was an ‘aha’ moment for me though. I knew after close inspection it was from a plant but the tendrils looked so much like electrical wire. How could something look so much like something else?
I began to wonder what forces were at play that kept me coming back to uncover what was hidden in the sand. Why could I not just walk without taking something home with me. Why do the tourists only take home the shells or colourful sea glass? What relationship is there between the high density development and our oceans?
I am still struggling with these questions. How do we keep our oceans safe yet still accessible to all? As a larger question, how do we keep our national forests, lakes, mountains, rivers, coastlines protected and accessible to all?
To me collecting the pieces from the beach is not meant to clean up what others have not. These objects are beautiful to me. They are rare finds dependent on chance. They are an opportunity for me to connect to ‘place’ while walking a familiar and loved landscape. They are remnants of our current predicament of tourism. I hope that this project gives us a different way to look at the landscapes that we so often take for granted.
I am continuing to collect on my walks but also to organize the work once I am back in the studio. Currently, I am exploring ways to exhibit the work as a gallery installation piece in a way that reflects my experience but also speaks to a larger audience.
Our Beach
The beach near to where we live in Mazatlan I like to call “our beach” but it is not. In fact it is a beach for tourists shared by many people throughout the year. We live close by on one of the few pedestrian access roads that connects the main road Sabalo Camaron to the ocean. When the property was purchased by my husbands grandfather in 1973 there was very little development in the area. Our street had a handful of homes, two of these had ocean views, the others were located behind. Across the street was a three story walk-up hotel then named The Bougainvillaea for its stunning display of flowers on their terrace.
I love to walk and the beach just outside my front door is perfect for such an activity. The shoreline is flat, the sand compacted and the waves tempered. The two large islands off the coast has created a partially protected beach from the typically more aggressive waves of the Pacific Ocean. ‘Our beach ‘ stretches to my right towards Chile’s Pepper, a popular restaurant and south towards Valentinos, a landmark building perched on a rock outcrop. Timing my walks revolves around the tides. At high tide the water comes right up to the buildings break walls and during low tide the water retreats leaving a grand expanse of glistening sand. Sometimes, I am wading through water and others checking out the many exposed crab holes.
For the past five years the city has experienced a building boom . The new bridge connecting Durango to Mazatlan created an untapped market for the tourist industry. The Golden Zone suddenly became a very accessible beach vacation location. Mexicans flocked to the city now that the eight hour drive had turned into just over three. Then post-pandemic travel hit, filling the city to capacity. On ‘our beach’ alone there has been three new hotels, many high-rise condo developments, a multitude of hotel renovations as well as upgrades to the sea walls. Building construction is constant and continues altering the skyline along the malecon from Olas Altas all the way to Cerritos Beach.
THE COLLECTION