Tag: jane slater

Coast Guards

Posted on by heather

One unexpected gift
of being on the island of Martha’s Vineyard in March
is the season of solitude.

While winter has snuggled the humans
behind closed doors
the verdant thickets of vegetation
along stone walled roadways
have fallen back to sleep
throwing open an early spring curtain
to reveal new and ever deepening
glimpses into old and familiar views.

And with those newly opened views
came the added blessing
of exploring the island in deep silence and peace.

The contrast of the bustling tourist season
with the quiet stillness of the winter
was sublime.

Happening upon this Menemsha moment
is the perfect example.

With Pat and Jane and Maggie
safely tucked into their recliners
I walked the sandy road
down to the beach
where the lifeguard chair
was the sole onlooker
back down the wooden dock
where the only sound
was the basin water lapping on the boats
up and over Crick’s hill
then out back of the Galley
where the every single post and rooftop
rail and piling had one seagull
sitting or lying as if on their lunch breaks.

Full disclosure
I cheated a bit here
In the real world
on that late March morning
there was one other human to be seen
I came upon him when I had drifted
further out that dock
just past the coast guard station
as I was looking back across the water
he was behind me coming ashore
from a morning of scalloping
I nodded
he said it was a beautiful day
and that was that
except that here
I turned him around.

When I started this painting
it was all about the solitude
and that peace
and quiet
with only the gulls standing guard
but it is a working village
and one lone fisherman
enjoying the sun and the sea
and a peaceful walk to work
seemed to tell a better story.

Moorings

Posted on by heather

A peaceful gentle cove
that curves around a back corner of Menemsha Pond.

A favorite lunch spot for island tradesmen
and when we pulled up in late March
there was a small van in the little lot
with its window rolled down
and the glimpse of  an old workshirt sleeved arm
resting on the sill
holding half of a homemade sandwich.

Maggie needed to stretch her legs
and I saw an interesting painting prospect up ahead
curious about all those bobbing bubbles floating
so we left the ladies in the car to keep chatting
grabbed the camera and took to the beach.

One of my hearts’ most favorite things to do is spend time with Jane.
Two of my hearts’ most cherished things to do is to listen to Pat and Jane
solve all of the world’s problems and to laugh together.

Couple one and two with roaming the island
exploring painting ideas on a beach walk with Maggie
while listening to Pat and Jane laugh in the distance…yep it’s priceless
and in this case also hilarious.

I had left Jane in the front passengers’ seat
Pat buckled in directly behind her
with both of their windows open
right next to, but a bit behind, the open window of the van
and trust me
when these ladies get to talking and laughing
they can be heard all the way down at the end of the beach.

I’m still wondering what that tradesman took home from their conversation.

I love the stillness
of these early spring moorings
lapped gently by the swells
and soaking up the sun
while they wait patiently
for their families to return…

and the echo of old lady giggles across the pond.

Rock Solid

Posted on by heather

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.

Feeding Jane’s Crow

Posted on by heather

Oh Jane…

So this painting is one of those collaborations
in which I play only a very minor part.
I really had nothing to do with this one.

Early on in the pandemic
Pat and Jane made a pact.

They would call each other
to check in almost daily
for support during the isolation of lockdown
her on her island
and Pat in her log cabin
and to provide at least one good belly laugh between them.

That conversation has been ongoing ever since
and it is honestly the highlight of my day
to come home and hear the latest story from Jane.

I secretly think they each go out of their way
to make stuff up just for the chuckles
but I’m here to witness that we, none of us,
would have made it through without that connection.

So Jane has this crow
which she feeds.

She reports that it visits each day
and goes so far as to follow her on her daily walks
through downtown Menemsha
and apparently gives her what for
if she forgets to offer up the daily snack.

One day Pat comes over to the studio in tears…
well actually every day Pat comes over in tears
which are mostly from laughing
at Jane’s stories.

Apparently Jane had set out a bag
with some sort of crumbs
for her crow.

It was a stormy day
and the wind
or possibly the crow
had blown the bag onto her roof.

Pat sternly warned Jane not to jolly well climb up there after it.
This is something you must remember
as her friends know
to warn Jane not to do.

Then they got to giggling about how Pat
suggested Jane get a tiny little umbrella
for the storm soaked crow
and they both lost it
which is why the tearful laughter in the studio
and
as ever
those cheeky Muses were in the corner
listening.

It was the work of a moment
to find a teacup from Oversouth
and the delicate whalebone handled parasol
had been perched on the top of a picture frame
hanging on the wall of the log cabin dining room
ever since Mr. Morse handed it to me on our last island goodbye.

I stripped away all but the tidal current from the basin
and then just stood aside.

There is personal meaning to the bling.

But that’s
personal.

Sail on Lady Jane
and your little crow too.

Bon Voyage

Posted on by heather

We want to send huge love to Jane Slater, as today she celebrates her 40th year at the antique shop she and her husband Herb have operated in Menemsha. Someone else will be sitting behind this desk next season, but for me, I shall forever see her smile looking back.

Jane will step boldly into a new chapter and we wish her full speed ahead.

Our Ladies of Menemsha

Our Ladies of Menemsha

Posted on by heather

Our Ladies of Menemsha

If I did my job right,
a lot of you are going to recognize
at least two of these
ladies of Menemsha.

The one in the middle is my favorite, Jane Slater.
This is the fortieth year for the shop that she and her husband Herb
have owned in the little fishing village on the island of Martha’s Vineyard.

Her dear sweet swordfisherman of a partner Herb
was called to the fleet in heaven
a couple years ago,
and their even sweeter companion of a pup Lucy
soon thereafter to be by his side…
but Jane…
she’s a Yankee through and through,
and the island needs her
around for a good long while yet,
thank you very much.

But…40 years of being a shop-owner,
behind that desk, that chapter is about to close.
The sign comes down when the leaves start to drop this fall.

40 years of telling everyone who walks in that she’d be happy to answer any questions,
while Herb puttered back behind the curtain,
and Lucy’s tail could be heard thumping at his side,
and the good folk of the island wandered in and out,
only the truest among them
being offered that one extra chair
for a set-a-spell chat.

Some of my fondest memories of spending time with Ted
were the visits we made there.
Ted got the seat.
The three of them, Jane, Herb and Ted
had a lifetime of island stories to tell,
and my heart aches with the desire,
for one more afternoon of just listening to them pull on a good yarn.

I painted this mostly for me.
So that I could invite her into my studio,
so far away from that island…
to spend some time
sitting in the chair by my easel,
and listen to more of her stories
as I tried to capture
the elusive sparkle
in those beautiful eyes
just there
in that smile
at the edge
of her heart.

Oversouth Willow

Posted on by heather

Oversouth Willow

As is true of so many of my paintings,
the muses pulled on some pretty wild threads
to bring this not-so-still-life together.

I’ll say it started with Jane,
because of the teacups,
hidden among the many other artifacts
which she and her sword fishing husband, Herb purveyed
in their antique shop in Menemsha.

This is Jane’s 40th year,
in that treasure shack, Oversouth Willow,
and the last season of her tenure behind the desk.

And that is where we found her, last summer,
the film crew and I,
when we were parading our cameras, and mikes,
around the island, and we stopped to visit with Jane.

The team of David and Barbarella Fokos,
renowned artists/writers/film makers/Emmy winners,
were setting out to make a documentary film
to add to their growing collection for the new website,

TAO – The Artist Odyssey.

The results of which are almost complete,
and Herself and I are picking out our gowns for the premeire !

(Check my blog for details)

While the crew set up and Pat and Jane chatted,
I searched around and found these three porcelain gems.
Jane told us the story of the “Blue Willow” pattern,
which I believe was captured on film,
but what I remember most clearly
was the sparkle in her eyes…and she in her element.

Fast forward a month or two and we are getting ready,
here in my Pennsylvania studio,
for the Fokos Team to arrive for another session of filming.
I needed to have a painting in progress so I brought out those blue vessels.
And then the muses stepped up.
They rifled through the linen prop drawer for something blue,
and the feather that Saren had brought me the day before
drifted down from the teacup shelf,
they fingered around in my back pocket
for the tiny shard of blue tile that I had found
in the pebbled lane the last time I walked up to Camp Sunrise,
and they sent me climbing up to the “old studio”,
the shed on stilts by the creek,
which is now the overflow prop room…
and I opened the door…

the blue door.

Bam, I’m in.

I had climbed those rickety stairs,
and opened that door every day for I don’t know how many years,
and inside was…my bliss.
My first real studio,
after 40 years of dreaming.
I remember when that paint was new.
Around here they were not sure how to mix Nantucket Blue.
There are a couple of paintings which feature the other side of this old door,
but if you stepped back far enough to get some perspective on the outside of it…
you would be swimming in the creek thirty feet below.

Opened to the inside,
with my hand on that wonderful doorknob,
and the light raking over the blue chips of paint…
well, that was interesting.
It was quick work to find something to use as a support,
and the red cover of the old faithful, “Iron Woman” book
was the perfect accent…think Jane.

When the Fokos’ arrived,
the painting was well underway,
but David wanted to recreate and film the set up part of the process.
You should have seen us cramming into the tiny space by that door
with cameras and crew…remember what I said about that one step backwards.

No one was harmed in the filming of this movie,
and now this painting has a great story to tell.

And I’ve got to go dye my eyes to match my gown.