I treasure the time I get to spend with my friend Martha. Since she moved to Scotland it takes planning and effort to see her. And although we have great hiking trails in the US, there aren’t little pubs and hostelries along the way. I’m too old to carry my world on my back. Until I get a burro, my long hikes are going to be in other countries.
As much fun as this trip has been, however, I’m starting to feel a little homesick. This is the downtown block of my home village on the Maine coast.
I painted this with Ken DeWaard. Like everyone else, I can sometimes convince myself I can buy my way into better brushwork (or color, or texture, or whatever). This is, of course, a snare and a delusion.
I admire Ken’s brushwork, so I decided I decided I’d see what he was using for brushes. Sadly, it was the same composite of new and old, pristine and slightly-sticky that was in my own kit. There are no silver bullets. (And nor is my brushwork so terrible; we just want what the other guy has.)
“What is that arc in the water?” my husband asked. It’s the rooster-tail of a lobster boat coming in fast. That pegs the time as early afternoon.
I’ve been in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. I’ve turned my phone off and while I’m 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.)