Special Gifts…

As the spring flowers bloom all around the studio yard, I am reminded of all the season’s holidays, and weddings that will be just around the calendar’s corner. If you are looking for a unique gift for that someone special…

The Basket Weaver

I hope you will consider selecting a print from our new Etsy shop.

There are lots to choose from for that gardener you love…

Blossom

and the sports lover…

Tea Time

the woodworker…

Tea-With-the-Tools

the artist…

The Beginner

that beachcomber…

Beach Rose

who loves to read…

Book-Mark

and yes, even your favorite tea drinkers…

The Tea Party

All prints are signed by…me.

And, for all my blog readers, I am sweetening that tea with the offer of a SPECIAL COUPON

just type in this code…

HNBlog2013

and you will recieve FREE SHIPPING on all orders.

Coupon will be good up until July 21,2013 (Which just happens to be the opening day of THE GRANARY GALLERY show this year !!! )

Happy Spring and, as always, thank you…I am so grateful for your support,
Heather

 


Boomerangs…

An arc
Something thrown out into the world
Where it spins and bounces off of life
Then comes sailing back to where its journey began

In this case, two people
brought together by chance…by hazard
then launched into the world
to follow separate paths
in search of creative truths
and now reunited and returning …

Rex Wilder and I started our fling in the late 70’s when we met as students of life attending Connecticut College. He, with ambitions to be a poet. Me, the fledgling artist. On the road to masterpieces, we both carried around sketchbooks and filled them with earnest, if early, scribbles and thoughts. We scoured the streets of New London in search of authentic souls to gleen for signs of intelligent life in the universe. I, the Sancho Panza to his Don Quixote. And many a windmill did we tilt.

Then our trajectories divert and almost 40 years of pursuing our separate arts flies by…Rex becomes that poet and achieves fame and book royalties…I become that artist and get to paint every day.

And now the story comes sailing back to home and we, the seasoned artistes, have collided in one act of creation…

rexs bookThis, his second published collection of poems, is poised to be launched on its own journey…and humbly holding all those precious treasures in place…if you’ll forgive me…Suspended.

suspended

On so many levels this is magical. For us both, the circles within circles are joyous and stunning to celebrate and sitting back in my easel chair and pondering how far we’ve both traveled and being reminded of the youthful ambitious dreams that we shared finds me smiling alot these days.

I’m sure there will be much ado surrounding the official book release and I will keep you all posted about that. For now, you can access more information and even pre-order the book on Amazon via this link…click here.

And the original oil painting is currently on display at Gallery 1261 in Denver and you can visit it via this link…click here.

I’m waiting until I have book in hand to read all the poems but I have peeked at a few and they are delightful divertissements… I think you will enjoy.

Now, back to the brushes.


Well…..?????

Bucket List

 

We didn’t see the northern lights last night.
But it wasn’t for lack of effort…and enthusiasm.

I followed the sites and the live blogs and the gurus and… my instincts…and loaded my family into the station wagon and,

we ordered subs, and waited…and waited …

then toted them to Lake Pinchot and looked out over the glass smooth water and watched three tiny canoes make their way slowly around the edges as the sky darkened and the clouds which had been hanging around all day drifted to the east…

then we drove back over the hill to Reesers and again…
waited…
in a long but happy line for our first raspberry cones of the season
while over our shoulders the sun set behind the last of those clouds,

and then as the sky darkened we drove
and drove
up hills and down
trying to find the best…and safest…vantage point to view the majesty

but as nothing seemed to fit the bill
and the sky was mostly…dark
we circled ever closer
to
home.

I ended up sitting in the studio yard
wrapped in woolen wear
worrying that I had missed the show.

Sue, next door, and Pat were both smarter than I
and were inside at their computers researching just how and where and when
these colors would best be viewed.

So, when they called me on the phone in my woolen pocket
I heeded their pleas and came home into the warmth
and plugged into an online blog party of local skywatchers
who were progressively…albeit geekily…souring on the possibilities for Pennsylvanians
to be in the path of the lights.

I checked every fifteen minutes.
I listened to both my girls snoring happily.
I watched The Killing Fields.
I made it to the first full hour of this Sunday morning.
Then I signed off and tuned out.

The best parts…
we had a fun, if unexpected, date night.
We know all the highest points in our neighborhood.
Our little community came together and enjoyed some social networking time.
And I remain hopeful.

And reminded
that
it’s all about the journey.

 

 

 


Passages…

It’s a beautiful day for a birthday.

Friends have been checking in and the cake is out of the oven. A nice morning sitting in the sun in the garden looking for signs of spring and catching up with an old pal. Might even get a little painting done before the day is out but mostly I’m just enjoying the peace and love the this stage of life is bringing and the great fortunes of good friends.

Another passage of sorts is being played out on the island and our long loved refuge and retreat, Camp Sunrise, is finally facing the ravages of mother nature.

the-shell-seeker

Here’s a painting of the bluff in front of camp from about 2003… and here is a photo of it now…

camp

We’ve all known this day was coming. And I am forever grateful for the decades of opportunities to sit on this very porch and ponder the sea. As well as the gift of being able to chronicle some of its corners and quirks and patina in the paintings over the years.

But now it is time to say goodbye. As you can read in the article in the MV Gazette, http://www.mvgazette.com/news/2013/04/04/second-stonewall-beach-home-teetering-cliff-must-be-moved
the house is now done. The main Camp house will be demolished…I can barely stand to write that…but the garage,

the-temple-of-my-familiar

and bunkhouse,

Retreat

will be moved in tact out to the back of the property…

Sophie's-Passage

way out to where that stone wall stands.

So I will take the lessons from this sunny spring day and look forward and ahead to many more years of walking this earth, and what’s left of this bluff and be grateful for each one of the flowers along the way.


Plaaaaaaay Ball

7th Inning Stretch

7th Inning Stretch

pnotes_logo_imagefrom the Painter’s Notes…
I love listening to baseball games on the radio
and when I lived in Watertown Square, back in the 80’s,
I would sit on my fire escape overlooking the 7-eleven and the front steps of the catholic church beyond and tune in the Sox and work on the weekly crossword puzzle,
while watching the woman’s softball league practice in the park across the street.
When I was a much younger girl I played baseball with my friends. My brother Rob was a first class pitcher but he threw the ball way too hard for me. So I moved on down the line of brothers to Scott.
The two of us would play catch in the street out front of our home in Swarthmore for hours after school. I was learning Russian at the time and with each toss I would teach him a new word.
I still have my mitt, and the last time his son Neill visited the studio we got it out, and the old baseball which bears the signatures of friends along the way, and played catch in the yard.
My arm ached for days but the smile lingered in my heart for weeks.
That’s my old bat and glove in the painting. You can just make out the peace sign I taped onto it.
It was the 70’s after all.
But what is missing from the final composition is Gully whose nose was in my lap each time I ran from the camera to the chair to outrun the self-timer. Boy was she pining for those cracker jacks. I almost painted her in…but … the closest she’s ever come to a baseball was chewing off its cover…
or to ironing for that matter….
when, as a puppy, she would curl up in the wicker basket and wait for…
the 7th inning stretch.