The Contractor

“You will have only one story. You’ll write your one story many ways.”

The twisty round about way I came to that quote from a character in Elizabeth Strout’s novel, My Name is Lucy Barton, was by catching on to it in a thread of conversation which Mary Chapin Carpenter was having with poet Sarah Kay in a podcast, One Story, where they had an in depth discussion of her album, The Dirt and The Stars.

There’s a basket full of accreditation in that last paragraph and I’m sure to have left out some of the weft, alas one’s weaving gets lacier after 65. I now know. But hearing MCC say those words in her smokey weathered road warrior timbre and in relation to the decades long trail of her song writing career…well… it clanged my bell.

Upon hearing that… that kernel of wisdom that we all have only one story…the totality of my own compositions snapped sharply into a perfectly ordered row.

I’ve only been telling the same story
my one story
in every painting
all along the way.

I’ve reflected recently in these blog posts about the paintings and even the Painter’s Notes as being breadcrumbs. Notes left in the margins which I suppose could be used to follow my way back tracing milestones to find what…the origin? I appreciate knowing the trail is well lit and documented but right this second I’m not really interested in going back there thank you. It feels much more important now to think about what I’m picking up from where and who I’ve been and choosing what is worth tossing into that basket nestled on my aging shoulders moving forward.

Seeing those breadcrumbs collectively as my “One Story” helps me make sense of the feedback that has come from patrons and viewers along the way who tell me they felt a personal connection to the paintings. Because when it comes down to it, it is really “Our One Story” isn’t it.

To draw upon another overheard podcast conversation I listened to this week, Joni Mitchell told an interviewer that (years ago and I paraphrase) I never wanted people to see me in my songs. If they see themselves then I’ve done the thing I set out to do…or words to that affect.

I certainly didn’t start out all those decades ago to tell anybody anything. Still not my thing. But like all lovers of mysteries, I enjoy connecting up a row of dots. And I have learned above all to listen to the Muses. They seem to have been throwing the voices of coveted musicians and story tellers in my path of late. It has lead to some wonderfully nostalgic evenings in the cavernous studio where sounds and whispers love to climb into the moonlight filled vault and dance.

Stopping here for a bit of reflection, I’m gathering those newly connected dots and I’m folding them all in origami fashion along crisp clean lines into a tiny paper crane. Light of weight and simple of beauty it will fit nicely into my basket. Leaving room for new paintings of old stories going forward and the promise of grace in the spaces in between.

In that context dear readers…here is the very next painting to be put into our basket…

The Contractor – 33 x 24

Sitting in the new studio loft
with Paul Winters’ joyful clarinet
dancing in the rafters
and Maggie asleep in the sun…

I am writing these notes
roughly a year after coming upon this tool belt…

It makes my heart soar
to remember back to that time last year
when a tired but smiling Dan and Skippy
were closing the latch at the back gate
after a week of celebrating the first walls going up.


I had turned to unclip Maggie’s harness
and she was free to make her daily inspection.

Each afternoon she would roam the construction site
and find one piece of wood
which, when properly gnawed,
became that nights’ symbol of a job well done.

I had followed her to step for the first time
“into” my new studio
only to once again step aside
as the Muses broke loose
and flooded the scene with their favorite light.

Dan had set up a new work table
to lay out the plans which had been folded and refolded
and sat upon and mulled over
a thousand times already
as each new stick of wood went in
and each new tradesman looked for direction.

But for the first time
with the walls up
and a roof on
it was safe to leave the loose sheets open
with his trusty toolbelt to keep the summer winds at bay.

With the windows and doors yet to go in
and just outside
the Ruth Stout garden fallow for the season
only the wren’s song was in the air
to remind us of harvests to come.

Today it is in a full blossomed mess of glory
with potatoes under that blanket of hay
dozens of tomatoes finally ripening
one or two last peas hanging on for Maggie

and this artist’s heart is wild with delight
to realize that this glorious new studio was built
right in the middle of her garden.

My most favorite part of this painting
was Dan’s reaction when I first showed it to him
“Hey, that’s really my handwriting !”
Yes it is Dan,
you have left your mark all over this magnificent building
…and our hearts.

And Skippy,
the coffee stain is for you.


A Freshening Horizon

If you are reading this today
you will know something of the road
we have been on…together…
for the last couple of years.

See the smile in my heart then
as I now open the doors for you
to the first of the paintings
created in the new studio.

A Freshening Horizon – 24 x 26

Here are the actual doors… to the studio I mean…

Just days after the marvelous crew of friends
moved everything “studio” from the old building to the new
I was sitting in the early morning library
listening…

When the Muses popped up…
and raked this new angle of light
across the old props
in the new corner.

Just for fun…
here is a pic of the actual interior
and that bold wash of light
and everything between here and there
which I decided to edit out.

You can probably imagine
that while they never actually left
crashing right back in
with their typically dramatic entrances
was a welcome jolt to begin my new chapter here.

Wasting no time
my constant muses
threw open the great big windows
to welcome in
a freshening horizon.

Pop Up Zoe

look who popped up at the new studio !!!
we had a surprise visit from granddaughter Zoe
our first in person visit since before the pandemic
and what a lot of growing up she has been busy doing in that time

I’d still recognize that sparkly happy giggle
but now it shines through a maturing strong confidence
that is such a pleasure to sit and listen to
in the new studio library.

Which gives me the great opportunity
to share that beautiful poise as she poses
next to “her” painting
which now has pride of place
among the books and props and portals of magic.


It is the perfect time to share two new paintings, both of which are now available at the Sugarman Peterson Gallery out in Santa Fe.

All The Aprons

on a bright summer afternoon
when the old grandmothers were resting
after a day at the lake
and a before supper ice cream cone

when the youngster was still
full of the energy
of the fluttery purple finches
and the sparkling imagination
of last nights twinkling fireflies

Zoe asked if she could play dressup
in the studio

yes
look in the kitchen drawer

can I try on these aprons
yes
said the grandmother artiste
from the other room
with the easel

and then it was quiet
just long enough
for the grandmother artiste
to figured she should
peak around the corner

and this is what she saw
with pink fluffy fluff ball in her hair
Zoe had tied ALL the aprons on
one at a time
on top of each other
all at once

what you can’t see
here in this painted rendition
are the bright red
shiny stilettos
that her curly little tippy toes
were balancing on the end
of her silly little legs

just love
her goofy little self

Pleine Aire Zoe

Zoe has learned me many a lesson

And on this particular breezy summer’s afternoon
when all the aprons had been tied
and all the lake had been swum
when the new bag of art supplies
had been rifled through
and the tippy cup of wash water
most carefully had been walked out to the chairs
with flowers gathered for the table
and sketchbooks opened
to their brand new pages one
the old artist grandmother
who had been preparing
to introduce her bright young student
to some slightly more formal course of study
had settled on just the right brush
and arranged the watercolor tin on the arm of the chair just so
she looked up and with a great
preparatory throat clearing ahhummmm
to begin the lesson
she looked over to the opposite chair…

where the eager eyes
of that junior artiste
were laser focused on the objects before her
and the fingers had firm grasp of the chosen brush
which was dipping in and out of the palette of colors
with a clear confidence of purpose and design.

Ahhhh well then.

To be reminded that
the newest of humans
are as close to that magical gift of creativity
as they ever will be
and it is always best
to sit back and watch
and listen
and just be there
to help haul their water cups.

The New Studio is indeed up and running.

A little more than a year after that flood…we are back to a wonderful new normal.

Back at work feels so good. And back posting on this blog I’m eager to share all of the new horizons that are just outside of those big windows.

But this day is almost done and it is time to say goodnight…
to you…
and to the night studio…

sleep tight dear ones.

Happy Birthday Eve Maggie

One year ago tomorrow we got the news that our Maggie had been born.

When we brought her home…our family was once again complete.

Her bright spirit has lead us through a year of challenges and with every paw print along the way we have been surprised by joy.

Maggie is all heart and soul and a full tilt yearling now and our little Solstice child is the best Christmas present ever !

Progress Update

Follansbee is making me a table.
He gave it a shout out in his blog this morning…https://pfollansbee.wordpress.com/

Here he is sawing one of the great pine boards that his pal Ted gave him.

A couple of these fine specimens are tucked away in his shop …

to be fashioned into something sorta like this…

Which, as my friend Ted would have said…is sorta fun.

And that jogged me to come back here to my own blog and record another update on the New Studio build.

Racing towards the finish line now, the last few weeks have been about fine tuning the original designs and trimming out the interior.

Dan has begun the library and got the first stack of boards ready this week and set up a staining station for me.

Maggie and I were ready…and I got my first taste of what it will be like to “work” in my new studio…

It brought me to tears and I turned up the tunes and danced the night away.

We had already had a cold opening of sorts with a “Friendsgiving” which couldn’t be beat… (Next year we’ll be eating at Peter’s table)

Another milestone was the addition of Ishmael on the roof. Jake got the job done and gave her the first spin…

While Dan and Skippy made piles of sawdust inside the New Studio, I made my own small pile of shavings while carving a plaque for the library. The HN Studio motto will have pride of place in its new home…

But first we needed to add some railing to the loft…

With the Solstice on our doorstep the sunsets and the gloaming are bringing the place to life…

And we are all full tilt tired at the end of these shorter and shorter days…

May your winter days be filled with warming sunlight and muddy pawprints…

and may you have as much fun as we are…

after dodging a barrage of life’s lemons…

making sweet lemonade.

Inside and Out

Progress report…

We have windows.
And a great big door.
And a roof.

And on top of that roof we have…

A tiny cedar tree.

An old time tradition of “Topping Off” was to nail a small fir tree to the tippy top of a new building as the tallest member of the structure was in place. By way of appeasing the goddesses of nature whose job it is to watch over the trees, we who have used new lumber to create shelter pay homage.

And inside we have the beginnings of a glorious open space for the light to live…

and a cozy nook of a library where in the books can live…

As I write this blog post from the temporary office in the old studio which we are slowly beginning to call, The House, there are two crews of tradesmen at work banging and sawing away inside the New Studio. Remnants of Hurricane Ian are still bringing waves of showers through a third day of dark and stormy weather but it is high and dry and safe inside the new building and the sound of real progress just makes my heart soar.

There was a peek of sunshine a minute ago, and it lit up the trunk of the maple tree just outside this window. A patch of bright red appeared which I suspect is poison ivy but it screamed AUTUMN at me. And the chill in my fingers are I type confirm that the seasons have changed. This one is my favorite and I say bring on the knitting needles…

Just wanted to give you all an update before I head back to the easel.

May your furnaces run clean and your pumpkin spice longings be sated.

Granary Gallery Show

It’s UP !!!

The walls of the Granary Gallery are full of new paintings
and you can see them for your very own selves
from your very own living room, back porch or poolside lounge…

Click on this link to take a virtual tour … GRANARY 2022

The remarkable Granary Staff is available to answer any questions you may have about the new work and can be reached at 508-693-0455. The Granary is open daily 10-5 and Sunday 11-4.

This current group show features new paintings and sculptures by Don Wilkes, Tamalin Baumgarten, Ken Vincent, and yours truly…I know you will enjoy checking out all of our creations.

But if you can’t visit the gallery in person… I encourage you to try that virtual tour. There are many other artists represented there and it’s a fun little divertissement to wander about the place from the comfort of your …wherever.

Many thanks to all of you for the kind and generous “likes” and words of encouragement and support as I’ve rolled out this years’ show. Your reaching out means more than ever as we can’t be on the Vineyard and at the Granary for the opening this year.
You have made this artist smile…a lot.

I’ll keep you posted on the goings on with the show and stay tuned to this blog for progress reports on the NEW STUDIO build !!! Living in a construction site is interesting to say the least but the young furry whippersnapper amongst us is absolutely loving it.

Maggie says so long from her supervisory post on the porch…

I’ll just say…goodbye for now.

Rock Solid

Rock Solid – 48 x 34

I’m writing this from the old studio back porch
Been sitting here all morning
Watching big machines moving heaven and earth
Well mostly earth
And big stones
They move in sync with slow motion arcs
A graceful and very loud dance.

I’ve also been thinking my way into writing this,
the last of the painters notes for this year’s GG show.
In my head for days now
The focus keeps shifting
And I keep putting it aside
Recognizing that I’m not settled enough yet
So I step back and out of my own way.

This morning’s air is clearing and blessedly cooler once again
And maybe that’s all that I needed to see
That this painting began as an homage to that wall.

It’s Jane’s wall, but she’d be the first to tell you
that the great stone walls of Chilmark
belong to the island, the islanders, and the town not the landowners.

This one runs through the backyards up on crick hill in Menemsha
But long long ago
When that land was farmland
It was built to make use of the tilled up boulders
And to fence in
or out
the pasture.

Jane remembers walking through that gate opening as a girl
So I took out the shrubbery that lives there now
And gave her back the passage.
She believes it to be the tallest original stone wall on the island
And I believe Jane.

So last October when we came to visit
And she and Herself were solving all the problems of the world
I stepped out on Jane’s deck to explore
And the Muses had lit the place up.
The wall was raked with that brilliant autumn island light
And it was as if seeing it for the first time.

The sun streaming through the crystal clear air was similar to this morning’s back porch light
And maybe that’s why I’ve finally found my way back in.

Yes the painting is about the wall
It started there
And never was about anything else
But today
As I sit watching the work being done
to build the foundation of my new studio
I see that it is also about the people who built that wall.

Solid is absolutely one way to describe the islanders.
A disposition bred out of the challenges of living on a rock in the middle of the ocean
Moving heaven and their own patches of earth
To raise themselves and their families into generations of community.

I guess that’s what humans have always done
And Vineyarders would be the first to tell you they’re nothing special
But the ones I know
Are pretty special to me
And that’s about all I was really ever trying to say with this painting.

The Coming and The Going

Now it’s time to zoom out…
Remember that dear little blue painted hinge ?

The Coming and the Going – 36 x 24

The Coming and the Going

That has come to signify this era for so many.
Writ large or writ local
some of the shiftings have been tectonic
while others mere whispers of change.

The Painter’s Notes for Unhinged

(Which you can read by clicking on the image above)

…well that journal entry sets the scene for… The Going

This painting gives you the harbor’s perspective
of this particularly seismic change in the town of Menemsha.

In Menemsha all manner of vessels and humans
are constantly in the pursuit of both…

Coming into port
Going out to sea
This gentle village is always in motion.

On this day last October there was a fair bit of going
as Larsen’s Fish Market was being demolished
to make way for a new version of that special old salt.

If you take the time to compare with Unhinged
you will see that in this composition
zoom in closely…
that dear blue painted hinge still holds fast
and there is just this one last corner of wall
left standing.

As in all artistic endeavors
the artist is free to edit.
I have gently done so here
removing most of the heavy machinery
and repainting the green dumpster.

For years now I’ve been looking for a way
to bring that great big landing net into a painting
ever since I found it washed ashore on Stonewall beach.
It was hopelessly beyond use for a fisherman
but I loved the brokenness and it has been reminding me
as it leans against my old studio stairs
of the power of the sea.

So it was sorta fun that here
in proportion to the old and now broken fishing shack
it could stand tall and represent.

Over the decades
of studying those rhythms
of steady comings and goings
I have learned
that while there can be stillness…

those spaces in between

…there is always some manner of change
on the horizon.

Coming to the end of a year of sometimes brutal
and always jarring shifts in our world
there is wonderful and joyous change on our horizon.

This week the concrete is to be poured
securing a literal foundation
for my new studio.

That great big light at the end of the long tunnel
coupled with the shipping off of this year’s worth of paintings
for next week’s Granary Gallery show
has afforded me one of those precious
moments of in between.

My spirits are lifting
and the peace is familiar
and kind.

At rest finally
with both
the going
and the coming.