This painting benefitted from a good long spell in drydock.
I started it a few years ago on the docks at Camden harbor, for Camden on Canvas. Thatâs the brainchild of Colin Page, and itâs become a great venue for marine art as well as a successful fundraiser for the Camden Library. (Iâm happy to say Iâm in again for 2024.)
It was hot, I was parched, and for once the creak of wood and water wasnât moving me. I threw down my brushes in disgust.
âI hate it,â I spat out as I scraped the canvas down. I almost never do that, but I was riled.
âI like it,â said Björn Runquist.
âItâs not that bad,â said Eric Jacobsen.
âWhat is the matter with you?â asked Ken DeWaard, who never cuts me any slack.
Whatâs the point of having friends if you never listen to them?
The only part I really liked was the filtered, haloed sun, but that wasnât enough to hang a whole painting on. Still, I respect their opinions, so I didnât use the canvas as a sail for my dinghy. Instead, it went into my giant pile of unfinished marine art. It was bigger than most of the others, so I was constantly catching it with my foot or in the corner of my eye. Gradually, it grew on me.
Its spars (the things the sails hang from) are so delicate that they look as if they couldnât possibly survive the North Atlantic. Even worse, they looked cockeyed to me. âYouâre a better draftsman than that,â I chided myself.
I almost never take reference photos, preferring to whine at my friends if I discover I need one. However, I did find a picture from the dock that day. Those spars looked just as cockeyed in the photo as they did in my painting. The only other square-rigger I know of at rest is Cutty Sark, in Greenwich, England. Her spars are perpendicular to the keel, but sheâs not exactly docked; sheâs more trapped, like an insect in amber.
I called my resident expert on all matters maritime, Captain John Foss. He told me that, despite the name, a square-rigger can, in fact, turn its spars. They can be angled from running straight across the vessel (‘square’), to a beam reach or even a close reach.
I learn something new every day, darn it.
Marine art is complicted
Many years ago, I was wrapping up a painting on the Camden docks when two young salts stopped to look at it.
âShould we tell her?â asked one, quietly enough that he thought I couldnât hear.
âNah.â
I might love painting boats, but I donât think Iâve ever done a spot of marine art that didnât include an error or omission. Sometimes theyâre intentional, for compositional purposes. Sometimes theyâre oversights, and sometimes theyâre mistakes. I think this one is fine, but if not, one of my friends is sure to tell me.
Iâm in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Iâve turned my phone off and while Iâm gone, Laura will be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)
Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:
- Canyon Color for the Painter, Sedona, AZ, March 10-14, 2025
- Advanced Plein Air Painting, Rockport, ME, July 7-11, 2025.
- Sea and Sky at Acadia National Park, August 3-8, 2025.
- Find Your Authentic Voice in Plein Air, Berkshires, MA, August 11-15, 2025.
- Immersive In-Person Fall Workshop, Rockport, ME, October 6-10, 2025.