Our Girls Just Wanna Paint theme this month is fog... I am visiting Monhegan, where the fog has been undulating through the harbor all week, in and out and up and down, tinted yellow and green and purple, receding, advancing. I tried to capture it as it obscured all but the edge of my beloved Manana. Didn't quite achieve the affect I was going for, but close. Will experiment some more.
Thanks for looking.
Each week that we are blessed to be on Monhegan, my daughter and I choose a day to be up and out early. We head to the Barnacle for breakfast, and time together. Today, as we chatted, an oil truck backed down onto the dock. This is a first for me in the dozen or so years we have been coming to the Island. The dock is busy, pick up trucks picking up and delivering luggage and goods with each ferry arrival all day long. But, I had never seen an oil truck. Its scale was all out of proportion (just realized I've used "proportion" in my last two blog posts; start of school must be approaching) to the landscape, the architecture, and certainly the narrow road and dock.
Turns out, an oil barge was coming from the mainland to refill the oil truck with diesel fuel, which is used to run some generators up behind the lighthouse. Live and learn. The oil barge was long, low, and sleek; and someone told me double-hulled as is the rule since the Exxon Valdez spill. Again, live and learn.
Thanks for looking... and reading.
Today I sat on the rocks above Swim Beach in the sun and added watercolor to some sketches from yesterday. I'll finish up tomorrow, but it was a joy to paint and listen to the hubbub on the crowded beach this hot July afternoon.
The beach was filled with many children, and families with the singsong accents of our country's south. Children on paddle boards, in small kayaks, on floats. The water is COLD, but there seems to be an inverse proportionality to age and tolerance for cold water, as in, the younger you are, the higher your tolerance. Toddlers toddle in, single digit-aged children head in with a little hesitation, then have to be ordered out eventually by adults witnessing their shivering bodies and blue-tinged lips; pre-teens have to contend with peer pressure so they hit the water a little more slowly, then simultaneously, with a lot of squealing.. and up the line. Adults that I have witnessed are more likely to try but turn away; or just not try at all.
Today's high point was watching a pair of toddler girls on the beach. They were both naked, and loved the water and sand and excitement of their older siblings' activity. At one point, the two girls looked twenty yards up the beach and saw an inflated raft. They toddled across the wet sand with great purpose, each grabbed part of the raft's rope and they dragged it down to the water. (Did I mention they were on the young side of 2 years old, and it was an adult-sized inflatable raft?) Toddlers are not known for cooperative play, and these two weren't speaking in sentences yet. I didn't hear them utter a word. They formed their plan while
exchanging a conspiratorial glance, and off they went. It wasn't their
boat, and it was a new beach to them. These two girls may be future world
leaders. Very impressive.
I added a "selfie"
here from our rented house, late afternoon. The sunset was glorious, and
cast a golden glow into the living room.
Thanks for looking; thanks
for reading.
Today I made my way down to "Treasure Beach" or "Sea Glass Beach". There are a couple of paths that lead there, and isn't far, but what a lovely spot! And, a new vantage point for watching the shadows extend along Manana. I climbed up on a flat rock and did some drawing while listening to the birds squacking on Nigh Duck nearby. I'm going to find my way there again tomorrow a little later in the day to paint.
Finished today with a long read/nap/read on the deck with the intermittent thought that the air was perfect... the kind of air that kisses your skin, makes you think about a light sweater, which you never act on because it was a fleeting thought replaced by the next thought which is the feeling of being so blessed to be alive. That kind of day....
Thanks for looking.
I inherited a lot of art supplies when Mom passed away 9 years ago. Mom was a prolific painter, accomplished in oils, watercolor, and pastel. I have been using her brushes, oil paints, easels, paint panels, sketchbooks, pencils, charcoal, taboret, and a library filled with art books. However, I have never used her pastels, though I have inherited a lifetime's supply, and loads of pastel paper in a variety of shades. So, I brought two small sets of pastels to Monhegan for the week, and began to explore today. I reproduced a small watercolor in pastel, laying in darks first and using some alcohol to set them.. then layering on top. It was fascinating, and a brain bender, and good grief, I have a lot to learn so please excuse my heavy-handed start... I am intrigued!!!
Stay posted for some more experiments here on my blog... this week.
Thanks for looking!!!
My good friend , Tori (artist Victoria Chesley Brega) invited me to spend a night at her wonderful family camp in Maine before we jumped east to catch the ferry to Monhegan for the week. Her family's Maine home is a lovely testament to family, history; simple living with time to think and to be and to contemplate. It is a place to hunker down. We arrived in the afternoon with the intent of chilling out for a bit, then heading off to the grocery to stock up for the week... but we hunkered and didn't leave until the next morning. The camp on Lake Watchic is soooo peaceful. I sketched this lovely birch tree from Tori's screened porch. The sun filtered through and splashed on it low, then higher, then low again. We watched the surface of the water change in the distance... indication of rain coming our way; which it did. Almost consecutively, one of us said, "Ooh, we're getting misted by the rain", as the two of us jumped up and headed into the house because the "misting" became "drenching". Skies cleared, then repeated the whole process less than 2 hours later. I love New England.
I love Tori's sense of family, legacy, history. I understand the importance and awareness of revering objects that family gone by have chosen, used, touched.
Hoping to spend more time with Tori basking in layers of relaxation.
Take a few minutes (or more) to breathe this summer. Thank you for looking.
These summer nights are beautiful; the air kisses your skin as the light lingers and lingers.
I added some color to my drawing from earlier this week, trying to capture that late light clinging to the west-facing planes in the city skyline.
It's been a lovely summer so far... here's a link to the Lovin' Spoonful's 1966 hit "Summer in the City".
... but at night it's a different world...
Thanks for looking.
One of the luxuries of my summer break from school is the opportunity to clean up and clean out. I spent a lot of time today digging into boxes and bags and corners, sorting and sifting. Today, as I rearranged shelving in my studio, I found a sketch book I hadn't opened since last year.
The first is a sketch looking up along the rocks near Monhegan's Dead Man's Cove, one of my favorite places to sit. There is a small rocky protrusion called "Nigh Duck" close by, covered with gulls who yack and chatter. I love their sounds across the water.
The second drawing is a coloring page I created for the Monhegan 400th celebration at the request of Moe Oberman, who was coordinating and collecting "coloring book" pages as part of the celebration.
Today was a great day, hot as blazes outside, but peaceful inside.. music, cats, progress, organization.
Thanks for looking.
From a photo I took at an evening concert on Boston Common, beautiful night. Don't you love the evening air in the summer? It kisses your skin. I'll add some color to the drawing to show time of day.
Thanks for looking.
I love the festive flags and bunting that adorn the buildings in July, and Hingham's Lincoln Maritime Center is no exception. I always have, and as I write this, I think it's all due to Robert Preston.
"The Music Man" movie, 1962, with Robert Preston, Shirley Jones, etc, is filled with holiday bunting. The movie takes place during one summer in fictional River City, Iowa. A lot of the movie's fabulous singing and dancing takes place in front of red, white, and blue bunting. "The Music Man" was my Dad's favorite, and we grew up knowing every lyric, every move, every nuance. I remember Dad telling us that the melody of "Good Night, My Someone" was the same as "76 Trombones", and I tried and tried to hear it. I think I pretended I could (but I lied) .. now I can. I loved the barbershop quartet, and sang along to "Lida Rose" and "Goodnight Ladies"... all the while, absorbing the patriotic bunting backdrop. (Click the link above for the rousing win-them-over-by-hijacking-the-assembly-in-the-gym scene.)
Thanks for reminiscing with me, and thanks for looking.
My mornings have me swinging by Hingham's Harbor this week; so much going on while so peaceful. The Lincoln Maritime Center in full swing, an exercise class rocking away on the lawn behind the Victory statue, kayakers, dog walkers, joggers, and bikes.. We are having a beautiful summer.
Thanks for looking.
A few sketches from the deck of the house where we are staying this week. Weather has been varied, as always, and lovely. We've met interesting people, hung out, learned a new card game (!), painted, cooked, and may finish our jigsaw puzzle by end of week.... Van Gogh's irises. In other words, a fabulous time here.
Thanks for looking.
Sitting above Monhegan's "Swim Beach" yesterday. It's more like a "Dare-yourself-to-jump-in-and-bear-it-for-as-long-as-you-can Beach" for those of us who aren't used to the Atlantic's frosty temps.. but there's lots of activity, kayaking, digging, painting, chatting, splashing about. This great little family showed up on the beach yesterday; with two single-digit aged children in small kayaks, and mom, dad, and a pre-schooler in a small rowboat. The children had great, creative energy, and the parents obviously were giving them the room to explore and to approach everything with confidence and curiosity. The older children were building a dam to block a tidal stream that was flowing down across the sand. I hung out and observed for awhile, and did a few sketches. Here's my take on Girls Just Wanna Paint's June theme of "bathing beauties" with the children from this family sitting in front of a few other beach visitors.
Thanks for looking... more Monhegan images to follow.
Our Girls Just Wanna Paint theme this month is fog... I am visiting Monhegan, where the fog has been undulating through the harbor all week, in and out and up and down, tinted yellow and green and purple, receding, advancing. I tried to capture it as it obscured all but the edge of my beloved Manana. Didn't quite achieve the affect I was going for, but close. Will experiment some more.
The beach was filled with many children, and families with the singsong accents of our country's south. Children on paddle boards, in small kayaks, on floats. The water is COLD, but there seems to be an inverse proportionality to age and tolerance for cold water, as in, the younger you are, the higher your tolerance. Toddlers toddle in, single digit-aged children head in with a little hesitation, then have to be ordered out eventually by adults witnessing their shivering bodies and blue-tinged lips; pre-teens have to contend with peer pressure so they hit the water a little more slowly, then simultaneously, with a lot of squealing.. and up the line. Adults that I have witnessed are more likely to try but turn away; or just not try at all. 
My good friend , Tori (artist Victoria Chesley Brega) invited me to spend a night at her wonderful family camp in Maine before we jumped east to catch the ferry to Monhegan for the week. Her family's Maine home is a lovely testament to family, history; simple living with time to think and to be and to contemplate. It is a place to hunker down. We arrived in the afternoon with the intent of chilling out for a bit, then heading off to the grocery to stock up for the week... but we hunkered and didn't leave until the next morning. The camp on Lake Watchic is soooo peaceful. I sketched this lovely birch tree from Tori's screened porch. The sun filtered through and splashed on it low, then higher, then low again. We watched the surface of the water change in the distance... indication of rain coming our way; which it did. Almost consecutively, one of us said, "Ooh, we're getting misted by the rain", as the two of us jumped up and headed into the house because the "misting" became "drenching". Skies cleared, then repeated the whole process less than 2 hours later. I love New England. 
The second drawing is a coloring page I created for the Monhegan 400th celebration at the request of Moe Oberman, who was coordinating and collecting "coloring book" pages as part of the celebration. 
