In that Place

Time, in fact, 
is the whole point and purpose of summer, 
time by the armful, 
time heaped up and overflowing, 
the way it was when we were younger 
and schools closed down in June, 
revealing an expanse of time 
in front of us 
like a tree-lined allée 
into forever. 
And it takes time 
just to get used to time, 
to adjust our rhythms. 
Slow the pulse. 
Summer is cumulative 
and needs to pile up, 
attain a certain mass, 
at which point 
the days stop being days 
and melt together to become a place, 
a self-contained, 
motionless country 
wholly set apart from time 
and containing within its boundaries 
all summers past and future.

-Barbara Holland, Endangered Pleasures 

Rosy-Fingered, Englishman Bay
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
landscape
2015

Lighting Up the Circuit Board

Nothin' like an electrical storm to recharge the batteries.

Energy surging out of my brush, lighting up the circuit board of cones and rods in my eyes.

Conomo Cauldron
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
skyscape
2015

Yesteryear, Today

What did I do two summers ago when I hadn't yet taken up painting? Couldn't tell ya.

Do remember yesteryears from way back when I spent timeless days at West Beach with my three little ducklings.

Today, an internal landscape again. Didn't put my brush away the first time my inner voice said, stop.

But did stop just a few brushstrokes later!

Tide ebbing and flowing.

Paint ebbing and flowing.

West Beach Ebb Flow
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
seascape
2015

Walking

Took myself back to Camp Takodah via paintbrush.

Walked over to Davis Field.

Dallied a few times on the trail when I might have done better to keep walking.

Returned in the afternoon, covered a bunch of my morning tracks, kept a quick pace.

Felt great.

Walking to Davis Field
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
skyscape
2015

Stick, Goop, Magic

Paraphrasing Carol Marine, I take a stick with little hairs on it, rub goop around with it, and create a 2-dimensional illusion of a 3-dimensional world. Magic!

In this case, a magical view of Cass Pond at Camp Takodah.

This painting appeals to me for its frank awkwardnesses.

As I painted, in my mind I was at Cass Pond in Richmond, NH, my world consisting of the trees encircling the water and the vast sky above.

When I stepped out of my reverie and stood back afterwards to take stock, I saw what I think of as a Grandma-Moses-ish lack of perspective.

Makes me smile.

Richmond Riches
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
skyscape
2015

Midsummer Haiku

Always confronting
the next thing I don't know. A
ceaseless beginner.

---

Started bold and loose, pushing paint around like clay, enjoying process and product.

Bumped into my inexperience with color values.

Experimented.

Noticed fussing and tightening and things not working. Walked away.

Went to yoga class.

Gessoed over part of my painting.

Moved into other parts of my day.

Returned. Got knocked around a bit.

Favorite part? Reaching the point of laughing—this is a disaster!—and then just painting without a care.

Conomo without a Care
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
seascape
2015

Weather and Walking

Once I'd got my bearings again and reset my intention to paint quickly and loosely, I gessoed over my Conomo Point painting from the previous day. Phew!

By road, Crane Beach is around ten miles away from Conomo Point.  As the crow flies, about two and half. In my mind, a split second. I took the shortest route and grabbed my paint brush.

I painted with a weather-and-walking mindset. I know weather always passes. I know when I walk the scene in front of me passes. I painted quickly. Didn't fuss.

Kept on walking. Walked away.

Walking Crane Beach
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
seascape
2015