"Manana 4 PM" sketchbook

 Every day, weather permitting, the Balmy Days II ferry from Boothbay Harbor offers a 30 minute tour around the Island here.  It remains one of the best ways to spend $4 that I know,  I cruise the Island's circumference this way several times each week we are here.  It's a nice demarcation in the day, and a way to connect with my family and friends.  We now have a short hand, "2 o'clock?", which translates to "Would you like to organize your day, as I'll organize mine, and meet at the dock at 1:45 to ride around the Island with me?" 
This post isn't about the tour, it's about after the tour earlier this week.  We dispersed after the ride, and I headed to Swim Beach with my sketchbook.  Artist friend, Kevin Beers, was hanging out in the rocks, painting Manana, and I settled in for a few minutes, which turned in to two hours of painting side by side, and chatting about Monhegan, life on the island, life off the island...  it was a splendid afternoon. Not sure how long he'd been there when I arrived, nor how long he stayed after I departed, but at about 4 PM he swapped paintings and began working on his "4 PM painting". The shadows descend down Manana as the afternoon progresses so working a couple of paintings during an afternoon as the light to shadow ratio changes is a great plan.  

 When my mother painted for a few weeks each summer in New Harbor, Maine, she routinely had several paintings in progress and chose her day's destinations according to the weather, and the angle of the sun: 2 PM on the Sheepscot River if sunny, else Kresge Rocks, 8 AM in Christmas Cove if sunny... and so on.

My watercolor sketch is Manana sporting its 4 PM pattern.  I rummaged in my sketch bag for a fine point permanent marker which eluded me, so used a water soluble fine point instead.  When I added the watercolor, I couldn't use any washes as the marker would run, so it was an interesting exercise in staying "in the lines" so to speak.  What a great afternoon!


Oh, and here are a couple of photos of a flock of cedar waxwings congregating in the tree off our deck last year.... just because.

Thanks for looking.  As always, your comments are welcome.

"Exodus" oil 8 x 11

Each summer, as we leave Monhegan Island, I take a photo or two of our party taking the last walk down to the dock.  There's something appealing about the consolidation of belongings, and the unified energy of departure.  It has been a decade now, and I know I'll be taking a few more photos when we leave again in a couple of days.  

This month's challenge topic for Girls Just Wanna Paint was "travel".  These three girls are traveling,  about to embark on another leg of their trip ... over the last rise, down the hill, onto the ferry and back to the mainland, paved roads, pace quickening and heading home.  Is that technically, "untravel"? Unravel, unwind, rewind... back again.

  Thanks for looking.

Monhegan Harbor - unintentional geometry

This morning, my daughter and I were sitting with scone and coffee at the local dock.  She and I chatted and looked at the water, with ferry comings and goings, seagulls, even a couple of lovely young French children with toy swords battling their way up and down the dock a la Erroll Flynn, calling to one another, "Viens ici!" and other phrases I couldn't discern with my decades-old French training.

Then, we both looked closely at this sailboat in the harbor.  I'm hoping you can see it in these photos.
The lines extending from the top of the mast to the bow are aligned exactly with the shift in rocks behind the boat.  From our distance of across the harbor, it read like an illusion, or, for the fantasy reader, like a portal, or horcrux.  The diagonal of the rope is also the demarcation of darker rock and lighter rock.  This is a perfect example of unintended geometry that you must observe and manage in your own paintings. Don't allow an arbitrary arrangement of geometry in your subject create a disconcerting note or passage in your painting.

Step away from your painting frequently, looking from a fresh perspective.  You'll catch false notes, and fix them.  I would have designed with a shortened section of the paler rocks, allowing the line, or implied line to travel up through the darker rocks.  Or, you may decide the angle of the rocks which replicates the geometry of the boat's lines, may make a terrific painting.  My friend Nancy Sargent Howell, uses a technique she calls "prisming" in her paintings.  She sees them, and extrapolates.  See how she uses the subject's geometry in "Laundry and Lines" below.

So, what's the takeaway here?   Go for it. Make your decisions actively, not passively, with your eyes open, with intentionality!  You are the master of your two-dimensional replication of the 3-dimensional world.  Winnie the Pooh says, "Be ware, be very, very ware."  I suggest a slight modification to Pooh's advice, "Be Aware. Be very Aware."
Thanks for looking; feel free to share.

"Over View" 9 x 12 oil Monhegan

One of the reasons I love the New England coast is its topographical variety.  Up, down, around, in, out, over, under... the foreground and background constantly shifting in their relation to one another, providing a myriad of exciting views. 

Remember all those Hanna- Barbera cartoons where the Flintstones, for example, were driving in their car, and the background was zooming by?  The foreground was moving at a different pace than the background and conveying speed.  I was fascinated by that relationship of the front and back when I was a child.  Still fascinating.

"Over view" is a painting from up behind the Monhegan schoolhouse, looking out at Manana and the mainland 10 miles distant.  Walking along Monhegan's coast provides that same fascination.  Every couple of steps provides an entirely new arrangement of foreground to background.  So exciting.

Thanks for looking.  Feel free to comment and to share.

Oh, and here's the Flintstones opening segment.  It'll all come flooding back to you.

"Flintstones, meet the Flintstones..."

"Wednesday Evening" 16 x 16 oil - leading the eye

I have written about this painting in its early stages.  You can read about its progress here in these two earlier posts:
 "Newbury at Night" start
"Newbury at Night" in process

Years ago I asked my painting teacher how I can know when a painting is finished.  His response was that you need to know what your painting is about, know the idea behind your painting.  When you can do nothing more to support the idea, then you are finished.  At the time, I'm not sure I had enough context to understand what that meant, but over the years it has stuck with me, and is the drive behind my painting process.  

Wednesday Evening - detail

So... "Wednesday Evening" has always been about the transition occurring at dusk in this Boston intersection - the juxtaposition of commuters' speedy exodus and pedestrians meandering into evening.  I designed the painting to use the people in the foreground as your path into the painting, while leading the eye along the road and into the acceleration out the ramp to the Mass Pike. I used many, many shapes in the painting to lead your eye into the distance, into the dusk.  As an example, the detail shown here shows two   street signs and the upper tail light of a car in the middle ground.  These three shapes are intentionally angled to point to the blur of light as the cars exit the city.  I also supported that idea by softening all the edges in the high contrast areas of the painting, the lamp posts, the large dark structure, etc.. but I left the edges crisp in the taillights' glow along the Pike.  The tall building on the right side acts as a stopper so your eye doesn't leave, and I added the idea of architectural detail which  points down to the same area of light.  

My intention was to lead the eye, and to keep the viewer engaged in the painting, observing the contrast in tempos between the Pike and the street.  As always, interested in your thoughts.  Thanks for looking.

Monhegan Sketchbook - 2013

It has been an interesting week here on Monhegan, many trips to the ferry to greet, or send off friends.  I carry my sketchbook around with me and have had some time to sit and work on a few ideas, some of which become resolved into paintings.  Here is a page of quick sketches, including my beloved Manana.

Today we were greeted by the sun, and even a sunset, though the fog hung in the harbor for most of the day, obscuring much of Manana from view.  Tonight, is Monhegan's 4th of July celebration, which involves random fireworks lit off on Fish Beach, and a treat tonight - semi-professional fireworks from the dock!  Exciting.  Mid-fireworks show we were treated to a rousing chorus of the "Star Spangled Banner" by a group of enthusiastic patriots down at the beach.  Happy Birthday, America.   We live in a wonderful country.

"Quiet Harbor" oil 8 x 6

  
The day began here on Monhegan with fog, and gray... more gray than fog.  Fog is intriguing.  Today's fog held the promise of burn off, an occasional yellow cast, and the instinctive reach for sunglasses on top of my head.  

Today I painted, nestled into the rocks between the two beaches, just in front of the iconic Red House on Monhegan Harbor.  The fog was fascinating, undulating through the harbor from south to north.  Manana was in view, gone from view, back, gone.  I painted the average, this lovely fishing boat and dinghy in the foreground.  Have to admit, I chased the fog a bit, but am happy with the result.  Eventually, the sky cleared above, showing some blue, but it remained hazy in the harbor itself. 
I painted to the myriad of sounds in the harbor, teens snorkeling and fishing, families on Swim Beach, ferries arriving and departing, ducks swimming in formation after their mother, seagulls being seagulls.  What a great day. Thanks for looking.