This summer I ambled up to Belfast with Ken DeWaard, Peter Yesis, and Stephen Florimbi to paint for the third annual Artworks for Humanity. As usual, we puttered around but nothing stuck. I did, however, learn what a captain’s gig is: a long narrow boat with both a slew of oars and a mast and sail. And I did several starts, which I may or may not finish.
I can only wonder why Stephan Giannini loves to paint nocturnes, but he’s very good at it. I only like nocturnes if I can start them just before dawn, as I’m very much a morning person. Luckily, my subject, City Park in Belfast, looks great at dawn. It faces east.
I’ve given you just a sample of this year’s paintings, but the full complement is viewable here. There are 25 lots in all; just click on the main image to start scrolling. (I’m lot 20.)
These paintings will be auctioned to support Habitat for Humanity of Waldo County. Sadly, I’ll be out of town. If you too will be away from midcoast Maine I urge you to bid on your favorite painting by contacting Kim at Waterfall Arts. She will take your information in advance and Habitat will have stand-in bidding on your behalf, up to your maximum bid.
In recent years, affordable housing has become difficult to find in coastal Maine. Visitors are affected just as much as full-time residents, because this disproportionately impacts service-industry workers. Buying a painting in this auction does more than just give you a lifetime memento of the place you love.
The public is invited to view the work in the Bayview Room of the United Farmers Market of Maine between 2:30-3:30 on September 28th. A ticketed reception with the artists will run from 4:30-5:30. The auction, by Belfast Mayor Eric Sanders, will begin at 5:30.
Visit www.artworksforhumanity.org for more details. Tickets can be purchased online, in advance at the office of Mailloux & Marden, P.A. (151 High St., Belfast), or at the door.
In past years, painting with Ken DeWaard, Eric Jacobsen and Björn Runquist wouldn’t have been worth a mention. This year I didn’t manage it until last Thursday. My summer has been terribly overbooked, something I’ve been complaining about for decades. That’s a pity when one lives in the northeast, where summer and fall are the best seasons.
I recently suggested to my daughter that we make a pact to not work more than 45 hours a week on non-family things. “I can’t possibly!” she responded. She’s a third-generation over-scheduler; my mother was the same way. When I was 35, my mother tried to get me to stop it, with about the same success. At 65 I begin to see what she was talking about. You don’t do anything well if you’re trying to do everything.
Having unsuccessfully laid down the gauntlet to my daughter, I spent the Labor Day weekend wrestling with myself about where I’ll cut down.
What good is a teacher who doesn’t paint?
I sometimes feel as if I’m potting along in a Chevy Aveo while my friends pass me left and right in their Corvettes. I love teaching and I’m good at it. But that makes it too easy to sacrifice painting for teaching time. Painting should be constant revelation, change and discovery, and you can’t do that without a brush in your hand.
This, of course, is nobody’s fault but my own.
As I always tell my students, painting in the studio is good, but painting outdoors in natural light is the best possible training for an artist. In Maine, summer and fall are the best seasons, but, dang, they’re short!
I’m limiting my 2025 workshops.
I’m only going to teach four workshops in 2025, and none of them will involve flying.
This is an opportunity for more advanced painters to work on the complex concepts in painting, like directing the viewer’s eye, narrative flow, serious drawing, etc. If you’ve already studied with me, email me to ask if you should take this workshop. If not, send me some sample work as per the course description.
That’s the only workshop that’s only for advanced painters. The rest are open to students of all levels (and I like a mixture of experience; it makes it livelier for everyone).
This is an opportunity to spend time at America’s first national park. I’d encourage you to live in if possible; it becomes a bonding and immersive experience. However, I always have commuters and they seem to benefit as well. I’ve been teaching this workshop longer than any other, because it’s a personal favorite.
This is centered in historic Lenox, MA. I chose this location because it’s in easy driving distance of NYC (3 hours) and Boston (2.5 hours). The Berkshires are relaxed, agricultural, historic and scenic. Plus, you can get good cider doughnuts. It’s the only workshop I teach where I also have been known to go shopping.
This is the height of fall color, for which of course New England is famous. Add the tang of the ocean and the peculiar reds of blueberry barrens and it’s downright otherworldly. I throw in a few curveballs, like a model in the landscape and a visit to the Farnsworth Art Museum in Rockland.
It means that only 59 people will have the opportunity to study with me in person in 2025. (I’ll still be teaching on Zoom, of course.) I’ll be promoting these workshops all fall, but if you know you want to take one, you might as well register and make your deposit now.
I arrived at home, finally, at 5:43 yesterday evening. I’ve been gone for a long time and been to a lot of places—to Manchester, Liverpool, Lancashire, Yorkshire, Edinburgh, Fife, and then home through Reykjavik and Boston. From there I went to Albany, NY, where I saw my family and collected my dog.
“Why don’t you move to Vermont?” my daughter asked me. (She knows I won’t return to New York.) I’m extremely touched that my kids want me nearby, but I love my life here in Rockport.
When I was in Fife, I could feel my sinuses open with the sea air; I felt as if I were home again, for at least a few hours.
It was unbearably hot and humid on Wednesday in the Hudson Valley, reminding me powerfully of one reason I left New York. It’s just as cold in upstate New York as in Maine in the winter, but summers here are so much nicer. It’s that sea air, which moderates temperatures.
Yesterday morning, however, I hiked to a waterfall along Hannacroix Creek, where I let the dogs romp in the stream while I swatted mosquitoes. That reminded me of just how beautiful New York is. It’s a study in contrasts and always leaves me feeling conflicted.
I arrived home to a beautiful thick fog and mizzle. It was 59° F. and I could feel my dry skin relax and ease back into its usual healthy state. If you want to escape the heat of summer, I recommend Maine. (And if you paint, you can take one of my workshops.) If you have allergies, sea air is a balm.
I like Home Port for its view, but I also like its neighbor, a lovely lady whose house has figured in several of my paintings, including Forsythia at Three Chimneys. She’s what I aspire to be at her age: self-reliant and forthright.