#strombus

Double Chambered Bottle Representing a Spondylus Shell and Strombus Shell

Moche culture, North coast Peru, 1st-7th c.

Earthenware, slip

Amphitrite

I drifted atop the blackened brine, billowing swells rocked me listlessly as I looked to the pale sky, taking in the salty tide.

I drew a breath and plunged to the lustrous sea. Aventurine waters glistened as sunbeams drenched the depths.

Skimming the shell strewn seabed, I came across a heavy strombus, whose glossy husk spiraled, unbosoming its rosy core.

I carried the strombus ashore, greeted by the ethereal, cerulean sky and a tangerine coast.

There she stood – her still, ornate silhouette.

I placed the shell at her feet then awoke in my bed, confused and amiss.

I wanted to return. Her pull, still so fervent and I was drawn to the ocean.

The stormy shore sent blistering winds. As shards of sand whipped my face, I resisted them.

With the water finally in my sights, I looked down and a strombus laid before me, cracked and roughened. I picked up the shell and I knew she awaited me once more.

Went to Lima’s International Book Fair 2019, bought some cool comics about this incaican girl called Wayra. Highly recommended.

I wanted to upload this one separately, since this one got a little story:

If you’re a snail nerd like me, you’ll probably recognize this little guy as a Strombus; the snails with the goofiest eyes alive. I was surprised to find a lot of them in the sea grass near the coast, but was even more surprised noticing the small eyes looking around. Even so surprised I was caught of-guard by the operculum (the part the snail uses to close off his shell) of the snail, which stabbed me in my finger the first time I picked one of these from the seafloor.