a fine day

"a fine day"

oil on canvas ~ 24 x 30 inches

We've been on the move a lot since arriving in New Hampshire...we do love to explore a new place.

So, lots of canoe trips, country drives, hikes and checking out all the local ice cream joints has been on the agenda. A month or so ago, we happened upon this place, Pitcher Mountain...and what a find it was.

A short hike up to a treeless summit with 360 degree views, fire tower, granite outcroppings and blueberries galore. I was in heaven... berry pickin' being one of my most favorite activities (which has thankfully been passed down to my two little charges). We even found the, let's just say "evidence" of quite a few bears up there who were obviously enjoying the berries as much as we. It felt like we were living right out of Blueberries for Sal... except, thankfully all human and bear little ones stayed with their proper parents.

plink. plank. plunk.

twilight

Last of the Contoocook paintings...this was the first one I did and I was a bit rusty with my plein air skills. The darn boat kept drifting in the water and changing positions on me.


Thanks to all who came out to see me at Art in the Park in my hometown. It was a great weekend!

"twilight"
oil on canvas ~ 9 x 12 inches

lazy day

Art in the Park is this weekend....come visit me!

"lazy day"
oil on canvas ~ 12 x 12 inches

evening at the lake

This is one of the plein air pieces I did a couple weeks back at Contoocook Lake. Cindy and I had painted for a few hours just around the bend from this scene...on the way home the sun was setting and I just had to stop and capture this view.

"evening at the lake"

oil on canvas ~ 12 x 16 inches

how I sold my first painting

I was standing behind the counter, bored--fresh out of art school and working at my parent’s shop for the summer, I stood there making motions of dusting, not paying attention to the few customers who were browsing in the back of the store.

the west branch of the Dead River

The shop was called Old Port Artisans and was in the vibrant Old Port of Portland, Maine.  We carried the work of over 70 regional fine craftsmen and fine artists. A lovely selection of pottery, woodworking, jewelry, prints, fiber arts, a bit of everything.

The couple from the back came to the counter carrying something to purchase and asked me “can you tell us anything about this artist”?

As they set the piece on the counter, I realized with a shock it was my painting--a little gouache landscape of birch trees and a river scene (a favorite spot where my grandfather took me fiddleheading as a girl). 

I had a placed a few of my paintings in the shop earlier in the summer but hadn’t thought much more about it.

The couple looked at me expectantly. I stammered something about the artist being me, my face turning red.  Miraculously, they didn’t change their mind or point at me shrieking “YOU’RE the artist!?”  They paid for the painting and left the store, happily chatting about where they were going to hang it.

Well, that certainly changed the flavor of my day.  I stood up straighter, finished my shift, and ran home to get back at my easel.

The Dead River and a good fiddleheading spot

Sadly, the painting in the story is lost to me…this happened before I learned the valuable lesson to photograph every painting before it leaves my studio.  Hey, maybe it’ll resurface…if you purchased a lovely, little gouache in 1991 in Portland—get in touch!