Deep Spring

island-souls-eve

 

It’s this kind of a morning here in the studio yard…although this is a painting of the bluff in Chilmark and those spider webs are over a decade old.

Our spider webs, here in the hollers of Strinestown, are brand new and based on the jungle of gossamer threads that I am pulling out of my face and hair…I have yet to learn this spring’s prime locations.

The experts keep saying our flora are three or more weeks behind this growing season but that is based on the last few years of climate change which has now become the new norm. These long weeks of cool days and cool nights are what I remember as being the springtime of my youth. Slowly warming temperatures and gentle rains gave the gardeners time to ease into the toolshed and let the winter weak muscles wake up gradually.

We did have an early zap of three or four days of 90 degree days and my thriving spinach began to bolt…but almost a month later in which temps stayed 20-30 degrees cooler…it has settled back down and I have been able to test several spinach artichoke dip recipes.

Neighbor Sue and I have noted that this is the craziest grass growing season ever. She can’t keep up with it and she is one who lives to mow.

The peas, radishes, beets and carrots I planted back on St. Patrick’s day are sooooooooo slow to climb up outta the dirt. But the lilacs…oh the lilacs…they are loving this weather and,  when I leave the studio late in the evening, their fragrance fills the valley and soothes my tired soul.

So, while the world outside might be three weeks behind and dragging its arboreal heels…inside the studio this artist is racing the clock and hopping.

The countdown is on for the Granary Gallery show this summer…July 21 is the opening date…and I’ve taken on a major challenge which I’ll be telling you about soon. For now I can tell you that the brushes, mostly the tiny ones, are flying from early morning until late and later… and later… each night.

There’s a very large panel on the easel right now and and it makes a hilarious contrast to the tiny brushes that I am using. The detail is electric and the concentration required keeps me so focused that only the thing which has been able to break it is the nuclear bolt of lightening that lifted me off the chair last night.

So…here’s to a real old fashioned spring…
and a face full of spider webs…
and a rich green carpet of grass…
and a studio full of flying brushes.

Enjoy !

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.

Happy Birthday…

to Herself !!!

This weekend we celebrate the 70th anniversary of the birth of this wonderful lady. There will be much partying and dancing and laughing and hugging and storytelling and more dancing. But then that pretty much describes every day with Miss Pat. Her spirit and spunk and giant heart are stronger for her 70 years of living but the smile behind those eyes still sparkles with youthful exuberance.

She makes every part of every day better and I am going to have to hold on tight as she leaps forward into this next decade.

You’ve got all my heart babe, consider yourself loved and

 Happy Birthday !