Salmon Festival and Elderhostel

It has been a cold and somewhat rainy day which I spent putting my clothes in the closet. Until now I have had to search through boxes and trash bags to find something to put on. The season is changing and soon it will be time to put away my light colored skirts and T-shirts in favor of dark colors and long sleeves. One of the last activities of summer here is the annual Salmon Festival. Tents are set up on the breakwater and hundreds of salmon dinners are cooked and served there. Vendors set up booths, and there are small town activities like tricycle races and talent shows. The day before, the gallery puts on Paint Eastport Day, where artists register in the morning to participate. They paint during the day on location, and then the paintings are auctioned off at the end of the afternoon. It has become a big event and we put on quite a party for the bidders. It was, as usual, fun and successful, making money for the gallery and the participants. I painted two pictures from my vantage point in front of the library, which was the only place I could get a parking place. Not wanting to carry my stuff too far, I set up on the sidewalk and looked first up the street at the library, and then down the street toward the police station. I could hear the phone ringing in the police station all day. Typically, it went unanswered.

Karen was visiting me that week-end, providing me with the only respit I had had from packing and moving activity for weeks. I cooked Chinese food for her and Lisa on Friday night, the first meal I made on my new stove. The next night's meal was provided by the refreshments at the auction, for which I had made some too-sweet coconut bars. There was plenty to eat and drink while the bidding went on. Every painting was sold, thanks to the spirit of the ever-faithful and supportive community, and the event was a rousing success.

The following week, this past week, I taught an acrylic painting class for the Elderhostel group. I had three jovial students who worked hard on their paintings of an ever-deteriorating still life I set up. I used the fruit and vegetables Karen had brought with her and each day the eco-system developing on and above the table where it sat became bigger and more active. We had to remove the cantalope before finishing the paintings because the fruit fly population had multiplied beyond acceptable limits. The green pepper survived the best, but the tomatoes rotted at varying rates that necessitated daily adjustments in composition. Everyone produced some satisfying work and went away happy.

As soon as that chapter was over, Elizabeth and I set to work installing our joint show at the gallery. I'll write about that tomorrow, since I can't seem to get pictures downloaded and I want to illustrate the tale.