An Island in the Afternoon

In the afternoon
there is an island
of an hour or two,
an extra day in the day.

     —Michael Cadnum, Breaking the Fall

Yes! Reveled in an extra day in the day early yesterday afternoon!

Went to my studio barefoot, opened the window wide to the delicious late summer air, picked up a brush, mixed a color, painted from a place of peace and vacation within me.

The struggles I'd been having with ideas about how I might paint Cabin C fell away. Took playful liberties with color, played with more brushes than usual, and dipped into the playground of gesture vs photographic realism.

Now I'm going to curl up on my bunk in Cabin C for siesta.

I Want to Stay at Takodah
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
architecture
2015

Taking a Break

Decided to take a break from my tussle with painting Cabin C.

Did a little time travel back to the sun's setting in early June a year ago behind a shed in back of our vacation cottage on Prince Edward Island. The even-ing of the sky is inviting me do some internal even-ing.

Taking the cue that rest might be in order, I'm going to tuck in and let go of Cabin C until I've got some restorative z's under my belt.

Tucking In, North Rustico
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
skyscape
2015

Workout

Ya know the space between a rock and a hard place? That's where I am.

Want to paint the cabin we lived in at camp, Cabin C. Went to my studio full of ideas and enthusiasm. Had fun creating an impression of the cabin with just a few strokes, but the rest of the painting was jarring and off.

Wiped it without even photographing it and painted something else entirely to clear my head.

My brain won't let go, though. It is crazy-busy working through how I might paint that cabin.

Puzzle to solve: want to incorporate stylistic touches I see in other painters' work but have no idea how or even if those other styles might fit this scene.

Puzzle to solve: something in me is tight, wanting to magically "get it right" instantly. I hear Dr. Phil asking, How's that workin' for you?

Had the idea to switch to watercolor paper and treat my next go at Cabin C as a study. Bumbled around. Learned some stuff. Set it aside.

Grabbed a scrap of card stock. Flexed my creative muscles again. Learned some stuff. Set it aside.

Did a third rep. Learned some stuff. Set it aside.

A few discoveries:
• haven't found my center yet, my inner place from which to paint;
• am less bothered by missing the mark when I paint on paper;
• had fun cutting out the cabin from study 1 and just working on the fore- and background in studies 2 and 3;
• think the colors in study 1 might work.

For now, enough of this workout—I need a shower!

Cabin C study 1 on watercolor paper
[not for sale]

Cabin C study 2 on card stock
[not for sale]

Cabin C study 3 on card stock
[not for sale]

Networking

On the way to get my car on closing day at family camp, I snapped a few last photos—mostly closeup shots, thinking to maybe abstract them on canvas later.

As I went to paint from one of those reference photos today, it did not escape my notice that on the last morning of camp what caught my eye was a network of roots—tree roots that have been quietly in place and growing since before I first set foot on Takodah property nearly 60 years ago, a physical network underlying my own emotional roots at Takodah which have been quietly in place and growing for most of my life.

Let me just say here and now that my roots in painting are not nearly as well established!

It was all I could do to send out even a tender root hair or two today in my studio. Started with an idea other than the roots, an idea that never found purchase. Wiped off my canvas, applied a coat of gesso. In painting my second go-around—the roots—I found myself in a messy middle ground, somewhere neither freeingly reckless nor satisfyingly intentional but that was nonetheless—and I borrow the name of a particular type of root system here—adventitious.

All part of establishing my root system, I'm thinking. I'm drinking in nutrients in big gulps.

Camp Root System
6x6", acrylic on canvas board
abstract
2015

Matins

At family camp, I usually get up before most others and walk down to Mem Lodge porch to sit on a wicker-seated rocker to watch the sun rise. It is in this location that I most often experience at a gut level the earth's turning rather than the sun's rising. Takes my breath away every time.

I used a reference photo from Takodah to trigger my memory of one of this year's sunrises. I used a photo of a painting by Anne Wood to nudge my painting hand and mind into a creative space. I blocked in shapes and colors with both photos upside down. Then I turned the photos and my gessobord 180˚ for adjustments and flourishes.

Good morning!

Morning, Mem Lodge Porch
6x6", acrylic on gessobord
skyscape
2015

Transformation

At camp, technology—though it does infiltrate—is not the order of the day, and we dyed-in-the-wool Takodians in particular make an effort to keep camp as pure and back-to-basics as possible. To my amusement and delight, however, when I showed new friend Jane one of my painted bookmarks color-paired with the book I was reading,

she stopped in her tracks—"I have to break my rule and use my iPhone to take a picture!" Given her enthusiasm, I set out today to clear some leftover paint from my palette by creating a bookmark for her. The process included the ugly-duckling distraction of the tape that held the watercolor paper in place followed by pulling off the tape for a magical transformation. Can't wait to see what book this swan pairs up with.

ugly duckling

Jane's Swan
2x6", acrylic on watercolor paper
abstract skyscape
2015
[not for sale]

Things Lookin' Up

I want to stay at Takodah, in the dear old camp I know …

Yup. That song rings true every time.

In my studio today took my brush to Takodah, stepped out of my cabin beside A-Field, stood at the edge of an overhang of trees, looked straight up.

Over my Head, on A-Field
6x6", acrylic on gessobord
abstract skyscape
2015