The StoneCool Story
When I was a boy, my summers were spent in a little corner of heaven along the south shore of Ten Mile Lake in north-central Minnesota.Our lake home sat on seven acres with three hundred feet of shoreline and beach.I was first attracted to stones as I waded in the clear blue water and looked down at them where the sand had been washed away by the waves.I spent a lot of time on that beach, and in that water, swimming and wading and picking up stones.My fascination with looking for and finding those treasures started me down the stone path.
On calm days the search was always on for that perfect flat rock to skip across the lake surface.Then there were the other stones, brightly colored or with interesting shapes, the ones that for some reason caught my eye.A few were prized Lake Superior agates.This special collection was secreted away in a couple of shoe boxes, to be enjoyed in Des Moines during the interminable wait between summers.
Fast forward to 2012.I had recently retired from thirty-seven years as a family dentist with some twenty-four years of Naval Reserve duty mixed in. My wife and I were in total agreement – road trips.One of our first was to the north shore of Lake Superior.Ah yes, back to Minnesota.We stayed in a wonderful old cabin owned by one of my wife’s cousins.There was a beach.Very little sand but rocks galore!Locals could be found every day combing the shoreline for agates.A few of the natives were kind enough to teach me the basics, and the hunt was on.I returned to Des Moines with a small jar full of agates and a banker’s box full of other stones which, for whatever reason, had caught my eye.I also returned to Des Moines with a small rock tumbler complete with coarse grit and fine grit so that I could polish my agates. These were a surprise gift from my wife, a gift which she rightly surmised might get me out of the house and out of her hair during retirement.
Once back in Des Moines, it didn’t take me long to notice that ordinary river rock, which was everywhere, looked just like the stones I had searched through on the north shore of Lake Superior.The next year or two saw the addition of a large tumbler, a stone saw with an eight inch blade (diamond tipped of course), a lighted bench-top jeweler’s loupe, a number of reference books on rocks and minerals and fossils, and eventually, boxes and boxes of stones.
I have spent hundreds of hours searching for stones, but I cannot tell you exactly what it is that focuses my attention on any particular one.Color and pattern are important, but most stones are so weathered that there isn’t much to go by.Some of my favorite finds have been inside of totally nondescript rocks.I often strike out.Many times I have cut into promising stones that turned out to be total duds.That, however, has not deterred me.
I would like to thank my sister, Laurie, for introducing me to my photographer/website guru, Marty Hulsebos.He is amazing.I strongly urge you to visit his website www.martyhulsebos.com, to view his award winning landscape photographs.They are truly magical.
There is also a group of total strangers that I wish to most sincerely thank.When I go rocking, I walk slowly across the stones.My head is down and it sways back and forth, studiously scanning a path of stones some four to five feet wide.And I carry an old cloth bag into which I place the chosen stones.As I mentioned on the home page, these rocks are usually in very public places.I cannot tell you how many times caring and concerned strangers have either stopped their cars with windows rolled down or cautiously walked up to me and asked “Is everything all right?”.One even offered me a few dollars for my next meal.They are wonderfully compassionate people, and I do thank them for being so kind.
The last and most heartfelt thank you goes to my tech support sidekick, my wife of now fifty years.Kay, you are truly the best.
These stones are apolitical.They care not about the battle of the sexes, gender identity or class warfare.Skin color and ethnicity are unimportant to them.They do not (to the best of my knowledge) root for a particular baseball, football or basketball team.They have no known religious preference, although I suspect they may be somewhat partial to the Druids.Bottom line – this is art.You get to decide what message, if any, emanates from these images.
I hope you find enjoyment in the galleries of StoneCool Fine Art.
Bruce Heilman