Why Do People like Seaglass?
- Nicole Wise
- Mar 22
- 2 min read
Updated: 3 days ago

Seaglass is more than just a material and a reason to walk on the beach; for me, it’s a meditation, a reward, and a ritual that brings renewal and discovery. Whether it’s color or texture or shape that catches my eye, I'll stop in my tracks to pick it up, examine it and see it, with my whole self. It has become a mindful practice that reminds me that everywhere we walk, others have done so too. The pieces I collect are remnants of other lives and other stories.
Cleansing, sorting, and cataloguing these materials (I collect lots more than just seaglass!) has become part of the ritual. I am intrigued by the endless possibilities each piece presents to me, singularly; what it does when light strikes it a certain way or how it might become part of something larger. I am also interested in the history it carries with it — the journey from its original form and function to its current state, far beyond its useful life. Every piece holds a history, from creation and utility to transformation. It's an illustration of resilience.
I began to play with creatively with this thinking just a few years ago, but the ideas have chased me for decades. I’ve lived much of my life alongside the Long Island Sound and with life’s inevitable twists and turns (some unwelcome), seaglass became something of a guru. I saw opportunities for myself as I thought about how these broken pieces had transformed: the breaking, the crashing and smashing of turbulence, the softening and eventual redefinition of what it means to “be.”
My art reflects my thoughts about life: its cycles, its surprises, and its capacity for renewal. It’s about taking pieces of myself and using them in different ways, embracing what used to be one way for something different, as time itself requires. Seaglass becomes an invitation to see beyond the surface, to appreciate individual experiences and stories, and to recognize the potential for renewal in ourselves and in the world around us.


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