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.
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…
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.
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
My New MuseHer New Morning ViewReach for the StarsNew PotatoesEntwinedThe Paint BoxDrawn ButterUnhingedThe Coming and The GoingRock Solid
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’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.
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.
Right at the stop sign and just over the little tidal bridge and our first stop is…
Drawn Butter – 30 x 24
This is Poole’s Ok Not any more But it was back then And it’s hard to teach this old dog new tricks
The captain of this ship was Everett Poole. He left the helm a while back and left the planet a few short months ago.
He wore many hats over his 91 years in Chilmark but I remember him in a red hat on the stool in this corner of his shop pipe wisping away with that hammer in his hand.
The reference photos I used were from a few years ago. Donald took over for his dad Everett for a while there and now Stanley owns it. Someone could probably date those old pics just by reckoning the price of the lobsters. And lordy that butter was a bit salty.
But remembering all those last minute trips to pick up the catch of the day and the cups of warm chowder we picked up along the way to the brisk autumn beach…
Everything old is new again. And in this case it’s the gate. Which Nathan helped me rebuild at the entrance to the studio leaving this old worn section just hanging in the wind with nowhere to swing.
Everything around me is changing. And that includes the landscape of the studio yard. When I started work on this composition the space between the gate and that red roofed garage was a patch of weeds laid bare after I had moved all of the raised beds to make way for the new studio.
Here is a picture from yesterday of that same gate at the writing of these Painter’s Notes…
I wanted to mark the passages of moving the old front gate out back to give me a new doorway into the Ruth Stout garden. And to have one lasting look at that empty space beyond it which very very soon will be a place where I can sit at my easel chair and reach out the window on a summer day like today and pluck a ripe cherry tomato.
This is one of the rare paintings I’ve done which qualifies for two categories. It’s both a candidate for the Recipe Series and for the Garden Graces Series.
There have been several incarnations of initial sketches for this one over the years. The final composition actually was spot on as a blend of them all.
My hope was to be able to grow the leeks as well as the potatoes and strut with garden cred pride. Alas, the Allium Leaf Miner flew into my yard a few years ago and declared war on anything I tried to grow in the allium family.
Garlic, onions, leeks…poof.
With an organic approach there was not much in my arsenal that worked to eradicate them until … the netting. I’m talking serious dedicated covering.
Since garlic is planted in the fall I leave it alone until February then secure the netting over the entire bed. This year’s attempt handled the snow and hail and held up all the way to the scape harvest in May.
I had two large beds planted in garlic and I’m that chuffed to report that 100% of those bulbs are now seasoning in the greenhouse.
With that success behind me I am ready to tackle leeks… next year when all the construction is finished and the puppy who loves to dig is under control and I can devote time to careful planting and tending.
The Ruth Stout garden is transitioning into basically a giant potato bed. They love the rich soil that the repeated dressing of hay mulch is building. This year’s drought arrested their development some but I was pleased to see that there were enough new potatoes to make the traditional summer batch of Vichyssoise.
The easter egg hunt feel of harvesting potatoes by simply pulling back the blanket of hay is so satisfying that I am on my second batch of soup and August has just begun.
The pitcher was a funny twist the Muses threw at me. Back when I was imaging one of the first incarnations of this composition I wanted to represent the cream somehow and saw one of those cow vessels and thought it would be perfect.
So late one night I surfed through Ebay and found this one and clicked right away. Probably paid top dollar and then some because I am an impatient auction bidder.
When it arrived it was much bigger than I thought. I was going for some demure cream pitcher size but, as I say, the Muses had other plans. I was going to fool them and shrink it down with some sharp pencils and artistic license.
But when it came time to arrange the still life on my kitchen table with the new apprentice offering suggestions for where to place each of those spuds… (I removed the puppy teeth marks in the actual painting)
…well I actually did like the statement that the large format cow was making. They seem to have gotten the balance just right again.
PS- Maggie wants me to tell you that she helped tie the chives in a bundle. (show off)
PPS – AND… I’m suppose to tell you that the little felt heart was her contribution. I actually was wandering the studio looking for something that might, if ever so loosely, represent the chicken broth.
In the process of that Herself brought me the tiny heart and asked what it was from. This was the second one we found so I knew.
Maggie got a little puppy puzzle house complete with baby chicks at easter. Yes, I know, and I’ve gotten plenty of slack for it but it has become her favorite game…so there.
Here is a photo of the last of the fully intact chicks and you’ll see where that precious little heart came from.
