A humongous box arrived at my studio door.
It held some things from my father’s house.
Way down at the bottom was a little zip lock bag.
Inside were six carved wooden figures.
Hmmm.
I’d never seen them before.
After my father’s death a few years ago, I uncovered many items and stories,
some of which were familiar history, and some of which were mysteries.
I found photos and writings about his grandparents
and knew that at least one of his grandfathers tinkered with wood.
So, I thought that maybe these were saved from his childhood.
Then the muses struck.
I called Pat, can you come over…now.
She threw on her coat and boots and slodged over to the studio from the log cabin.
I love writing log cabin.
Anyway, I bade her to lie down on the daybed…and take a nap.
I found the paper bag, filled with chicken feathers,
which Homer had collected for me last summer,
and I dumped them on her head.
Then I laboriously positioned the little chickens
and the little goose around her sleeping head.
Tucked in her red snuggy blanket,
Herself was content to model as long as I liked.
Until the feathers started…to tickle.
I managed to capture this image
just before…the sneeze.
When I was finished,
and the model was back in the log cabin,
and the feathers were corralled back into their paper nest,
I arranged the dear ones along the window sill next to my easel.
Finnegan came over to give me an eagle hug
and her tail swept the smallest bird onto the floor.
When I picked it up I noticed some writing on the underside…
Made in Indonesia.
With a sigh,
I put her back on a higher shelf…
and began to reinvent her past.
That’s the note I found this morning, on the studio kitchen table, written on a scrap of cardboard, with a sharpie, found beneath the pile of framing tools, which were left untidied, after a long day of framing, and print making, and general mayhem making.
The Follansbee arrived just after I put out the lanterns last night, stopping for a pallet on the studio floor, as he made his way home from a week of teaching woody things down at Roy Underhill’s place in NC. So, the note was all we got to see of him this time, but we had a good visit on his way down south last weekend.
His hair is long enough now to tie in the back and a good bit whiter. But the sparkle is still there in those eyes. Gonna catch up with him and the family in the fall, so that’s ok then.
The day dawns, a little later for my own self than the master carver, and Herself has left to ship two new paintings out to the Sugarman Peterson Gallery. There is an opening for that show on July 3rd, in Santa Fe, so today you get the first peek at them…
All Her Eggs – 16 x 20
Scape – 12 x 13
From the sharply pointed pen of Mark Twain…
“Put all your eggs in one basket. And watch that basket.”
Eggs courtesy of Dru and Homer, who farm a CSA just over the hill. They are as delicious to eat as they are to paint. The eggs.
And just out that window and a little to the right is the little wren. Always.
When Zoe is here, she relies on the wren’s first trill of the morning to signal that it is ok to get her giggly self out of bed and start her day.
In the early summer she has a different job.
This summer she has built her nest in the birdhouse just above the garlic bed.
I wait with lusty anticipation all year for the garlic to send forth those gorgeously delectable curly scapes, and this season, her babies hatched on the very same day they appeared.
She spends her busy days now bouncing from Ted and Polly’s wind chime, to dancing from scape to scape.
So, there ya go. Ted is having a blast, directing the muses every which way I turn around here.
Look for these two garden graces to be winging their way out west this week. And if you are in Santa Fe, please stop by to visit Michael and Christie Sugarman and say hey for me.
Now it’s on to more framing…
stay frosty out there.
Last night I started a painting.
And I replaced my crusty old palette box with a brand new one.
It is just a plastic box to hold the tablet of disposable paper palettes…and this new one comes with a lid… I misplaced the lid from the old one centuries ago.
But, in spite of my excitement over the prospect of being able to cover the paints every night, thereby keeping down the dust…and this week the pollen…which is coating EVERYTHING….
Well, it seems I forgot to cover it…and this is what I found this morning…
If you look really closely, you will see tiny tiny tracks.
It would appear, she writes putting her pipe down next to her deerstalker hat, that some creature crash landed into the raw umber which always anchors that upper left corner, and then walked, or dragged, her fee,t or perhaps wing tips, over to the translucent yellow brown, then ambled down to inspect the greys. The ivory black seems to have held no interest and the path doubles back on itself then forks over to make a straight line review of the warms, ending in a flurry in the bottom right corner as she built up the strength to climb up and over the side, leaving tiny amber tracks on just a few of the brushes before disappearing into the studio night.
I am filing this under the category, “At work in the studio”.
Working quite late in the studio tonight, but I’m at this computer rather than at the easel. There’s a lot of “business” stuff to this full time artist deal and it allows me to stretch some other creative muscles. Tonight, it’s writing.
No, not this blog, Painter’s Notes. If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you will have found your way to this logo,
It appears at the bottom left of each of the large format image pages, which are found when you click on a thumbnail in the Portfolio section of my website. The logo takes you to the little journal writing that I do for each painting. Long story, written up somewhere in the archives here, but for now, let’s just say that once I got started…I wasn’t allowed to stop.
I am not a writer, and the “I have to do the Painter’s Notes” task does tend to be put off until it can wait no longer. Tonight is that night. At least for the five new paintings that are going out to Santa Fe. Well, they have already arrived, ahead of our flight next week out to the land of enchantment.
As I begin, it puts a smile on my face to see the images of The Bogcutter and The Smock side by side…
Our son Jon, and his daughter Zoe.
Jon originally posed for this painting almost 5 years ago. Zoe is 4. She was just a twinkle in Papa’s eye when he hefted the bogcutter on his shoulders and let me sketch away. I’m so grateful now, for the reference photos I took way back then. Everybody changes over a five year time span, but I, unknowingly, caught him just before his life was to shift forever.
That painting sat on the back burner while I gathered up the courage to attempt an honest portrayal of someone I loved. Man it took guts, for me at least. The nudge of that AAC article was the extra shove I needed. That, and watching the passage of time move into warp speed.
The portrait of Zoe was a much more serendipitous affair. She simply wanted to paint next to her Mima. And when I got up to fetch her some clean water…it was all about the raking afternoon light. I wondered if a then 3 year old, would understand the concept of modeling. She loved trying out the new word and was so serious about her craft that the camera, clicking away behind her to capture the fleeting light in her hair, was no distraction. She was a natural at taking direction and held that dear little hand still so I could record the shadow on the dimple.
OK, now it’s later and I may not make it much longer tonight.
But, it’s a start. I’ll let you know when to click on that logo.
It’s fair week on the Vineyard.
An agricultural throw back to the old thyme days of preserves and pies and pig races and winning flower arrangements.
I’ve heard the pigs are out this year, lemurs are in ?
And I’ve got some preserving of my own to do around here.
But somehow, some day, it’s on my bucket list
to attend the fair.
Today was the perfect summer day.
A cool morning spent waiting for the sunlight, to break through the ash tree’s canopy, and settle just where I wanted it on the clotheslines, which had been strung with a white cotton sheet, and clipped with Ted’s pin…Herself, as model, went about watering the garden beds in between bursts of light, and I spent the time picking asparagus beetles off of the fronds.
Then, Finn and Herself headed up to the park for a walk, while I headed inside to work up the sketch, and review the photos, before a quick sanding on the studio porch to get the panel ready.
Then I heard the beep of a text to ask if I wanted ice cream for lunch…and off we went for a beautiful drive through the high summer hills and that rich creamy Reeser’s cone of bliss.
Then a spur of the moment stop at the Old Trail Variety Store on the way home, where we always find something we don’t need but might someday find it’s way into a painting or two. Today it was a couple of old hand forged cooking tools and some impossibly deep red drinking glasses. Stay tuned there.
Home to a dry panel ready for the first pass of paint, and a chat with neighbor Sue who was kindly mowing our lawn and smiling at her grandchildren who had arrived to swim and romp through her yard like kids used to do on a summer’s day. And off went She Who Must Swim, up to the lake, for her afternoon adventures.
A few hours of peaceful painting…and now it is late, but the sky refuses to give up the day, and, having checked in with the Vineyard Gazette for news of the island, I read that today was the running of the Chilmark Road Race.
Since this year’s show included the painting, The Road Race, I thought it was time to check back in here and connect those dots.
I just love the hometown feeling of this summer island event. And the winners get 5 lb lobsters ! That almost makes me want to…well…no. But here’s a taste of victory…
I’m headed home now, the log cabin is hosting movie night and I’m in charge of the popcorn. Here’s hoping you have had at least a handful of these summer days to add to the memories…
Here’s a link to the full article about the race, but I’ve copied it here to read.
Fleet Feet And Tradition Are Heart of Chilmark Road Race
Ivy Ashe
Saturday, August 9, 2014 – 6:14pm
– See more at: http://mvgazette.com/news/2014/08/09/fleet-feet-and-tradition-are-heart-chilmark-road-race?k=vg537f3e3453436#sthash.5bf82Ivt.dpuf
Sheridan Wilbur, 17, of North Smithfield, R.I., woke up at 5:20 on the morning of the 37th annual Chilmark Road Race. She piled into a car with her family and they drove to Woods Hole. There was a bus from the parking lot, the boat ride over, a bus to Chilmark and finally a bus to the starting line of the race.
After that Sheridan needed only her feet, crossing the finish line in a brisk 18:24.55 to earn the top women’s time in the race, placing 13tth overall. Though the rising high school senior has taken first place in her age group before in her four years of running the route, she’d never won the whole thing. But on Saturday morning, she finished with both a victory and a personal best.
“I was running with another woman for the first two miles,” she said after the win. “I started to break away from her then.” The famous hills of the topographically challenging race start to appear at about that point, but as Sheridan said, “As soon as you get to the top, you have the ocean view and you think, oh, the finish is close.
“It was cool just to break the tape.”
David Melly, 21, of Newton, knows exactly what it’s like to break the tape too. The winner of the 2011 race, Mr. Melly blazed to a sub-16-minute finish (15:43.31) to take first place once again. A rising senior at Cornell University, where he competes on the cross country and track squads, Mr. Melly said his familiarity with the course helped secure the win.
“In this race I was pretty much just chilling in second place until the last mile,” he said. “The hills become your friend. You can use them to your advantage.” In the final stretch, everyone has the same advantage: the packs of cheering spectators on both sides of the road, forming a veritable tunnel of support.
“That’s so much fun,” Mr. Melly said. “More than anything else, I think that’s why I keep doing this. It’s the best finish. It’s very, very gratifying.”
As per tradition, the winners of the men’s and women’s races collected massive five-pound lobsters from Larsen’s Fish Market as their prizes. The winners of the kids’ divisions each earned a pair of chicken lobsters. When nine-year-old Jack Lionette of Chilmark stepped up to collect his first-place lobsters, race organizer Hugh Weisman noted the “pretty amazing” time nine-year-old Jack had run: 19:58.
“Holy smokes,” someone in the crowd said. “Damn,” said another.
Jack, who also won his age division last year, said he was “definitely trying to break sub-20,” and had been “sprinting the whole way.” He credited part of his success to a pre-race dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, and ultimately has his sights set on the course record itself (14:38).
Though Jack was the youngest Vineyarder to cross the line first, Michael Schroeder, 19, of West Tisbury took the top overall spot for Islanders, finishing 11th with a time of 18:14.8. Emma Mushnick, 26, of Vineyard Haven, posted the fastest Vineyard time in the women’s race, running a 20:46.85 to take 61st overall and third in her age group.
This year’s field was the largest in race history, with more than 1,600 entrants completing the 5K course. Some were familiar faces, like the purple-shirted MacMaster clan from Pennsylvania. This year, 29 MacMasters took part in the day’s events.
“This year we’re stretching it into in laws,” Keegan Skidmore, 31, said before the race. Mr. Skidmore is himself a recent MacMaster in law, and did the family proud by placing seventh overall and second in his age group.
One group wore pink tutus and matching antennae-like headbands, which complemented the official black race shirts they wore.
“It’s our 10th year running it this year,” said Jessica Donahue. “Last year, when we were running it we decided we needed to do something special.”
But whether a competitor, a spectator or a volunteer, everyone at the Chilmark Road Race finds a way to make it their own.
Susan Brown of Edgartown hadn’t run the race since 1980.
“Today I am 70 years old, one month and one day,” she said. “My goal was to finish, and finish in under an hour. And I did it. I’m still standing.” Then she was off to collect her award, for placing third in her age group, before heading home to celebrate the milestone.
Nathalia Garroway, (22 months old) wearing a floppy sun hat and too-big race shirt, toddled across the finish line with her parents Christopher Garroway and Nadia Popova.
Mr. Garroway and Ms. Popova had intended to bring their two-month-old along as well, ultimately deciding it was too hot for the infant to be outside. But Nathalia was up to the challenge.
“She only stopped once to pick some flowers,” Mr. Garroway said.
Well art fans,
we have a few last minute crisis to find work arounds for here in the studio today…
and the trailer is scheduled to roll outta here in less that 40 hours…
SO, the first thing to give is gonna be this high falootin’, wait-for-it, three at a time…roll-out -the- paintings, production thingy.
Framed and wrapped and taking up a LOT of space in the studio now, are all 16 paintings…waiting for the weather to cooperate so they can be loaded into the trailer for the big haul northeast.
You have seen the first six, and here, all together now, are the remaining ones…
Considered for your approval…The Granary Gallery Show 2014
And there ya go…
We will be at the opening on Sunday night July 20th from 5-7pm
at The Granary Gallery in West Tisbury on the island of Martha’s Vineyard.
Thank you all for viewing and for your continuing support.
The exhibition of summer shows at the Granary Gallery opens tomorrow night…and I’m sending all manner of good art vibes to my pals who will start the season off with a bang…
Ken Vincent – Morning Has Broken 24 x 8 Oil on Panel
David Wallis – Morgan Whaleboat 28 x 39 Watercolor
Alison Shaw – Whaleboat, Gannon & Benjamin Boat Yard 2013
Dan West – Kingfisher 12×10 x 7 Sculpture
And a nod to our fellow art night pal John Hagen whose work is on display at the Granary and who will hopefully be ready to show new work very soon…
John Hagen – Plein Air Path to Edgartown Light 14 x 11 Oil on Canvas
