In honor of the 42nd anniversary of the opening of the movie Jaws…
I give you Betsy’s Gift.
These dear lads had spent a glorious afternoon fishing up and down the dock in Menemsha. I sat outside of Larsen’s eating my steamers and enjoyed their serious minded focus and the simple pleasures of the day.
At one point the blue shirted boy came running out of the back door with that blue bin
and brought it over for the others to inspect…”Look what Betsy gave me !”
The boys were excited and immediately set to work cutting up the bait fish.
If you had been there, I think you would have smiled along with me.
And then you could look to your left,
just there around the basin of fishing shacks,
no more than a hundred yards
from where these young fisherman are standing,
and…using your imagination,
and a healthy dose of nerves,
you could see where Steven Speilberg himself
directed, from the dock out back of the Galley,
lo those 42 years ago,
as they filmed that epic sea drama.
I’m heading home now,
the pizza has just arrived,
and it’s time for the annual viewing.
Have to take a break from rolling out the new paintings…to wish this amazing young human a HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
Zoe turns 7 today !!!
She has been exploring her creativity as student, model and muse in her 7 years of visits to the studio, and her independence, gregariousness, and focused curiosity have left their mark on this artist/grandmother.
Here are a few other Zoe inspired paintings…she’ll be here in a few weeks and I can’t wait to see what she’s got up her sleeve next.
At the top of the craggy hill,
inside of the stone walled gate,
is a small patch of Irish green,
a few wooden picnic tables,
with heavy stones in their centers
to keep the ever blowing wind
from sailing the menus up and across the burren
and out over the wild Atlantic sea,
and blue aproned Ana,
who serves the best fish chowder
Herself has ever tasted.
Ah, yer ever so kind…
such a warm and hearty response for Macy,
and I’m humbled, for my sins, by that.
This then, is Tomas.
He who lets Macy take the lead
as they welcome travelers to their tiniest of the Aran Islands.
This week, the annual Bodhran festival is taking place there.
On my bucket list, it is.
When they throw open the barn doors,
I’m certain Tomas and Macy
can hear all those drums a’ beating.
Sunday July 30 is the opening reception
I’ll be rolling out the new work on this blog and on Facebook and Instagram,
so I’ve got lots of fidgity computer work to fit in between the last few brushtrokes
over the dwindling weeks in the next month. Gulp.
I just wanted you to know I’m still here.
So,
to get us started…I give you…
Black Irish – 32 x 48
This is Thomas’ horse Macy.
They both live on the island of Inisoirr, off the Wild Atlantic Coast of Ireland.
I’ll fill you in on their story,
and ours along the way, so stay tuned…
for now,
it’s back to the easel.
This falls under Ted’s favorite category of “sorta fun”.
A while back, one of my master muses, John O’Hern, sent a query asking about the painting Sisters. He was writing an article about florals, and botanicals, and Albrecht Durer, and naturally…thought of moi. (She wrote with a grin)
As I read through and found it today, I see that an image of Sisters did not make the editorial cut. I can see why as the others make a wonderful bouquet of floral still lifes, and my little garden painting is of the more humble vegetable variety.
But, here’s the fun part.
What John wrote about the painting Sisters is…in his most inimitably magical way…delightful.
And I quote,
“Heather Neill observes a helpful symbiotic relationship in her own garden between her tomato plants and a volunteer scarlet runner bean that self-seeded the year before. Sisters refers to the ancient practice of “sistering” or “growing companion plants to, in this case, literally, support one another”, she explains. “Native Americans would plant corn to support the beans, which would shade lower growing lettuces…all in the same patch.”
The subjects are shown after dusk plucked out of the dark by a porch light. Neill’s saturated color and hyperreal painting along with the dramatic light suggest a more sinister role for the vine when the light is extinguised.”
Only John would imagine such sinister designs, plucked after dusk by a porch light.
to spend at least 30% of the day in an upright position.
Which would triple the output of the last eleven days, wherein I crawled from daybed to nightbed, dragging boxes of tissues, bottles of medicine, and an increasingly bored bernese mt. dog.
I have managed the first 18% of that goal by throwing the contents of the kitchen and garden into a large pot, now simmering away with chicken soup. With a few breaks in between to sip some hot tea and cough up a lung, I am upright, sitting in the office chair, but basically upright, and catching up on the business that piled up while we were away in IRELAND !!!
The fairies were with us all the way, and they turned out to be the only two weeks since late July that I have been free of the plague. Brilliant !
I think the muses have grounded me upon my return so that I could linger in a foggy state and simply drift back to our time there and cement the whirlwind of images and experiences. It exceeded every single expectation, from the traveling companions, to the glorious weather that followed us, to the historical touchstones and meaningful connections, and on and on and on to the landscape and the people.
Here’s one of our favorites, An of Inis Oirr.
We spent a day on that smallest of the Aran Islands, with a bumpy wagon tour,a pint in the pub, a talk with Masie and Thomas, and Herself threw off her shoes and walked in the ocean.
An, or Anya (I’m sure that spelling is not right) was the owner, waitress, chef at the little cafe at the top of the hill, just below the castle ruins. She fed us marvelous chowder and hot chocolate and smiled and laughed the afternoon away. Apparently Pat has wrangled a room in her B & B in exchange for light housework.
One of the bucket list items I got to cross off was buying a Bodhran, the Irish drum used in acoustic sessions, and it has just arrived here in grand shape from the little shop in Dingle. I did a bit of googling, and discovered that there is an annual Bodhran festival right there on the tiny island of Inis Oirr.
Already signed up to the mailing list. Bit of practice to do before I’m worthy of that group but we may take An up on her offer.
Be assured that this trip was a creative game changer and I’ll be sharing thoughts and images as they begin to move from the suitcase to the easel, but I am approaching that 30% threshold and I’ve got some paperwork to finish before this thing sits me back down.
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.
This is almost what my studio kitchen looks like today…
Add a kitchen table, stacks of art books and magazines,
two baskets of laundry, another row of teacup shelves,
a different iron, and a large bernese mt dog at my feet…
and you would be welcome to come join us
as we head into the final stages of preparing
to leave for the Granary Gallery show !
I left the ironing ’til last.
Despite my predilection for sweats and smocks,I do try to make an effort to look respectable
when I leave the studio and venture out into the real world.
And, while this heat dome is determined to hover over the east coast,
I am determined to let linen
keep what little air movement there may be…flowing.I’m halfway through the ironing.
For the last two hours, Finnegan has been laying in front of the air vent.
I needed a break, so I’m writing to say hey,
stay frosty out there my friends,
and island breezes…here we come !
