This painting, I swear, was well along BEFORE the BP oil spill, but now that it's done, the associations are inevitable. A premonition? I hope not, or I'm going to have to be careful what I paint. This is actually taken from the beach in Riverside during a blustery bronze sunset, the fish was found on the beach on the cape. It's part of a new series I'm working on placing creatures in uncomfortable environments.
But it raises an interesting question. If an "Artists Respond to the Gulf Oil Spill" exhibit takes place (and they have - here & here) could I enter it? I've already had people assume it's about the oil spill, so they could be right. Time for me to bow out on this one.
I was curious about the square UPS box on my porch since I didn't remember ordering anything. I opened it to find this really cool mug, made for me personally by the second Artist-in-Residence at Great Sand Dunes National Park, Sally Gierke.
We met when she took my drawing class on the dunes, then we bunked together in the Park apartment on my last night. I was the first time I overlapped with another Artist in Residence, and it was fun comparing notes, as she had also been Artist in Residence in Margo-Gelb on Cape Cod National Seashore. I guess that makes us Dune Buddies.
I spent my New Year's Eve sitting in front of the fire drinking a little champagne and reading over my last year of blogging. My memory is notoriously bad, so being able to review the year this way makes me glad to have posted over the last 12 months, even if no one was to read it. But I've also made some good connections along the way, which makes me happy that some people have read it, so if you're reading my blog now...thank you and Happy New Year!
I have to say, for all the dissing of 2009 I've heard, it was not a bad year for me, and for that I'm grateful. Even though I often fantasize about ditching the day job, I survived two rounds of layoffs and I know, intellectually, it's a good thing. Unemployment would not mean more time in the studio, it would mean more time on interviews. If I was lucky enough to find another job, would probably mean longer hours for less pay. So I guess I'm glad I kept my job.
More importantly though, those I care about are doing ok. Although I would wish better health for some, we are all still here, still supporting ourselves and still getting along.
The most disappointing thing this year has been in my work. After three or four years of intense work on my last series, I haven't produced much substantial since my show at the end of 2008. I have been thinking a lot, but haven't found the same kind of focus as I had with my Shoemaker Series yet. I do have some ideas floating around, and found a special dune-ish inspiration last summer, so paintings will follow...
So where did all the time go? Let's see...
In January I went to classes at the Museum of Natural History in Roger William's Park called "Drawing from the Collection" and learned to love taxidermy. I focused on owls, and it gave me some ideas about incorporating these little spirits into my work. It was also very cheering (if freezing) to hop on an overnight bus to attend the inauguration in Washington. It was a great experience to feel so hopeful about the shift in direction our country chose, and although everything is far from wonderful, I still feel hopeful to have someone leading this country who can think in more than one dimension. I had washed my hands of the judgment of the American Public, so had to promptly unwash them.
My friend Mary Grady was the one who got me out into January's cold on those adventures. Her's usually take place up in the sky, so check out her site if you like all things aviation.
In February I said goodbye to my 1989 Toyota pickup. You would think swapping it for a new 2009 version would be exciting but I still feel a pang when I think about it and wonder if I did the right thing. The new truck is much smoother, but bigger and not nearly as friendly. But I gave my old truck to my college-age niece, so I get to take it for a spin once in a while. I have to admit I'm amazed at how stiff, pokey and noisy it rides now that I'm used to the other. But it served me well for 20 years and delivered a lot of paintings.
In March I found out that one of the national park artist residencies I had applied for had accepted me. In fact, I was to be the first AIR at Great Dunes National Park. A few weeks later, I got a phone call which told me that my name was chosen in a lottery to stay in dune shack on Cape Cod.
Quite a coincidence, and it was nice to be able to anticipate hiking barefoot through the dunes to get me through the blustery chill of March.
As excited as I was about planning my next residency, I still owed Mesa Verde a painting from my 2008 residency there. I finished it in June, just over the year deadline. Those at the park were very patient and resisted showing up at my studio door with their flat rimmed ranger hats and crisp khaki uniforms to seize what I owed them. I'm glad they like it when it finally arrived.
In August, after a little angst about whether I could get the time off work, and keeping a nervous eye on Hurricane Bill which was charging up the coast, I was dropped off at the dune shack Thalassa and spent an idyllic week there, hiking over the dunes and along the shore, watching the huge waves kicked up by the hurricane, drawing, swimming and entertaining a few guests.
I hardly had time to shake the sand out of my shoes before heading out to Colorado and Great Sand Dunes National Park in September. The dunes were much higher there, but worth the climbing. I'm still working on posting my journal, but the first two installments can be found here.
The rest of the fall was spent in getting my application out for Denali National Park (rejected!) and happily sorting through some exhibition opportunities which have come my way. I drop off the paintings for the first one, at Bert Gallery in Providence, tomorrow and will have more details soon.
It will be nice to move some of my paintings out of the cold studio and into nice warm gallery space. And it will be nice to move me into the cold studio to make more...
This is a little gouache piece I did a few weeks ago while waiting on the first big dune in Provincetown for my friends who were walking in from Route 6. The next painting I do will be from Great Sand Dunes National Park, which, at about 700 feet high, will be a bit harder to climb, especially as the elevation of the park itself ranges from 8,000 to 13,000 feet. (The elevation I'm used to? Maybe 14 feet, a few inches more if I'm wearing heels). I just checked the weather and it will be a nippy 29 degrees at night, which makes me glad that this particular residency apartment has heat! I had to break into my stored winter clothes to find gloves, a scarf and long johns. Soon enough I'll need them in R.I. too.
I'll try to check in from Alamosa a few times in the next 2 weeks and will post my work when I get back and shake the sand from my shoes.
This is a little watercolor I did in the dune shack Thalassa by the light of my oil lamps. Although my next accommodations will have electricity it won't be nearly as charming. But I'm looking forward to sleeping in the dunes in a week. I decided not to post my Cape Cod journal since I already wrote one in '97, instead I hope to post one from the Great Sand Dunes journal whenever I encounter internet access. I hear there's a nice little cafe in Alamosa with free wifi. It's called the Milagros Coffeehouse and gives its profits to charity. I'm looking forward to stopping in.
This morning I shipped a box of art supplies off to Great Sand Dunes National Park for my artist residency that hopefully will reach the park before I do. Once again I waited a little too long to head to the UPS office, so as a result had to use airmail and pay twice as much as ground mail. I hate wasting money like that, but I seem to end up doing that all the time lately.
So now it's beginning to seem real and I'm getting excited about heading out there, the park has incredible diversity. The dunes look really cool but there is also forest, mountains, alpine tundra and grasslands. I just hope I haven't lost my "dune-legs" from my week in the dunes of Cape Cod. There are some great hikes in the mountains as well, but they involve a lot of elevation gain, and not as much oxygen as I'm used to here at sea level.
I'm having my first cup of coffee at The Coffee Exchange, while typing up my dune shack journal before heading to work, but I wish I were having it here.
I posted some of my photos in a slideshow at right, or you can link to it on Picasa here.
I'm back from the civilization of sunrises, sunsets, clear water pumped from the sand, silence except for bird cries, surf and wind, wide dunes and sky. Back to the uncivil world.
I survived Hurricane Bill and Danny—the first brought great seal filled waves, the second almost drowned me on my way back home... in between was PEACE. I'll be posting my journal in the next few days, and some photos. Going back to work tomorrow is bound to be harsh, so I'll want to mentally race back to my dune shack whenever possible.
It looks as if Hurricane Bill is not going to drift west and revert Thalassa back into the driftwood it came from, but it should bring some dramatic heavy surf and stormy weather on Saturday night and Sunday. It's hard to tell from the aerial view how high above sea level the shack is. As I remember, the cliff is about 25 feet high in some spots, but in others, it's a more gradual slope down to the beach. So if I don't get a phone call I'll assume I'm good to go, they know more about these things on the Cape then I do.
Last night I assembled my foodstuffs for the week. Rice and bean mixes, oatmeal, cheese, pasta, nuts, and a variety of fruits and vegetables of the more stable sort, like apples, oranges, squash, carrots. And of course, coffee for drinking on the porch in the morning, wine for drinking on the porch in the evening. I've done this kind of stocking up so many times for my artist residencies that it's not too hard to figure out, although this time I'm entertaining a few guests, so that has to be taken into account. And I can always trek over the dunes into P-town for provisions if I need to, but I like the idea of being totally self-sufficient in my little shack.
I'll be leaving early HOPEFULLY to avoid some of the weekend Cape traffic, but I'm probably not the only one with that idea. I'll be unplugged for the duration, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of photos, writing and paintings to post when I get back.
I almost hesitate to post this picture of the little Thalassa dune shack I am planning to move into, just as Hurricane Bill charges up the coast. I'm not afraid of a storm while I'm out there, in fact, I think it would be pretty exciting, but I'm afraid Peaked Hill Trust may cancel my stay if the hurricane looks like it will brush the cape. As you can see, that little dot of a shack is pretty close to the shore, I just hope I am as close next week!
I've finished packing my clothes and supplies, and managed to keep it to a duffel for clothes, a backpack for art supplies, a sleeping bag, and a cooler for food. Tonight I'll buy the fresh food supplies and be ready to go... I hope!
Here's a really nice map for tracking the hurricane, I'll try not to check it more that once every 10 minutes...
I came up with a plan for you, I think you'll agree it's a good one. As you approach the cape, veer to the west just enough to kick up some impressive surf for about a day. Some torn, indigo-edged storm clouds should scuttle across the sky. A fast moving thunderstorm in the late afternoon on Sunday, followed by the clouds breaking to reveal a firey red sunset. Whatever you do, don't look so big and bad that Peaked Hill Trust feels it's not safe for me to hunker down in a little driftwood shack little bigger than a packing crate perched on the sand at the edge of the Atlantic.
Last night I picked most of the good apples from my tree and made 4 apple pies, getting in the harvest before heading out to the Cape. I also mixed up some colors of gouache in little empty half-pans to put in an Altoid container for my portable painting kit. In addition to gouache, I'm going to bring oil pastels, which worked out great the first time I went out to the dunes. Spreading them out in the sand they get a nice fluidity as the sun warms them, without needing water or solvents. They also get a little gritty, but that's ok, so will I. I'll also bring my trusty charcoal pencils, of course.
Even though this time I won this opportunity in the Peaked Hill Trust member's lottery, it's hard not to flash back to 1997 and think of this as an Artist-in-Residence stint. I will be doing art though, and I will be in residence...
The countdown to my escape to the last little bit of land curling out into the Atlantic has begun—only 5 days till I leave this messed up world behind and escape to the quiet and simplicity of dune shack living.
Figuring out what to bring is not too difficult, since I did this before way back in '97, and I expect the way of life out in the dunes hasn't changed much even after a dozen years have passed. So I'm packing as if I'm going out to play in a sandbox...which I am! Soft clothing...shorts, cotton pants, t-shirts, a sweatshirt, cotton socks for walking in the hot sand, a straw hat, bathing suit, food for a week (plus a few bottles of wine), sunblock, art materials and binoculars.
I'm reluctantly bringing a cell phone. It wasn't really an option in '97, but since I'm expecting a few guests during my week, I guess it would come in pretty handy. That is, IF I get coverage and IF the battery doesn't run down. I'm going to just turn it on once or twice a day, no plugging it into the wall for a recharge!
