Radiance

It is a glorious New England morning. The light amazes. This is the view from my back porch. The windows are my little studio.

"If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day."
— E.B. White

I will head up to the studio (almost impenetrable again, with backlog and backwash from 3 weeks away.) Put on my hard hat and dig the place out.
I have been reading about Jennifer Bartlett, who I have admired ever since I stumbled on her book "In The Garden." Her work, abstract to realistic, was supported by grids and repetition. And energy, and nerve. Of her decision to work on pre-manufactured square enamel plates: "I was looking for a way to get work done without the burden of having to do anything good...I thought that if I could just eliminate everything I hated doing, like stretching canvas, then I'd be able to work a lot more."

Sun and Tall Ships in Boston

The sun returned, after nearly a month gone. We spent Saturday walking the harbor walk and admiring the Tall Ships:
Everyone seemed stunned. The weather was as startlingly beautiful as the views:
We walked back through Haymarket where we bought quantities of fruit and veggies for a few dollars. Only in Boston I think can you walk from the harbor, past an in-ground swimming pool (complete with lawn and deck chairs) for the super rich, to an open air market where vendors still hawk produce as if it were the 1800s.

There and back again

I traveled by train last week to Chicago.
Tiny private "roomette" - you better like your traveling companion. Cars filled with people, all shapes, sizes, ages. Tiny babies, Amish farmers, Asian-Americans, dark-skinned women in batiks, even an Amish toddler.

The country rolled past. Fields, rain, swollen rivers, cities. We read, talked, read some more. I loved it. Slow travel. We forget what it's like to look, to watch, to just be for a while. The trip took about 24 hours, door-to-door.

Coming back, I had a cold and took the plane. No romance there. I sketched a man waiting.
Since then I've been sleeping under my cat, sketching, and getting well - a vacation of sorts, if you look at it the right way.

Meet the artist

detail of Brain Storm model 2008-9

Nadya Volicer transforms industry castoffs into art. If you live near the Decordova Museum you can come watch her install her piece, "Brainstorm" now until July 15.

Over and Out

This gorgeous babe (the one needing clothes) is one of four now in our studio: the ultimate dumpster find! A photographer friend, Lisa Anderson-Bisson, happened by as we were hauling them in:
I am off to the ex-urbs of Chicago for a week. My daughter, 15, and I will travel out by train. She stays behind to help with her aunt's kids - three under 7. For her, it's a journey from small family to large, from city to suburb. For me, its a quiet month just a working couple again. Wow.

Sketches

The rain continues. I spent 4 rainy days at the Cape. The cool moisture brings on the quiet. I painted the view out the window, and the veggies on the counter:
During a sunny interval, we made it to the flea market. My daughter and I came home an old photo of a wedding party, so I painted that too:Today I taught my Alzheimer's watercolor class. Very quiet. Edith was back, and tho' she does not remember painting "for several years now" she was more confident than when I last saw her. I stayed late while she finished her piece. "Am I keeping you from anything?" "Just grocery shopping." She smiled.

Dave dozed through the class. I painted him. Edith had lovely things to say about it, which I take as a compliment. I love her work, too.

o my

I've been browsing artists' blogs. You will have to look for yourself:

Manipulation of paper and space

stitched artwork and the figure

black and white and an eclectic eye

Time to make something warm for dinner.