Change of Pace

I can't remember why I decided to paint this picture. It's from a photograph I took just before David and I got on the boat to go to Summerkeys. I was very intrigued with the idea of painting the reflection of the boat. That part was fun and interesting, but after that it was quite tedious. I haven't painted a big canvas for quite awhile. This one is 18x24, I think, and it seemed like it took forever. I guess I like the results and I will now have something to put in the last theme show at the gallery.
It is going to be a busy week in the art world, or at least my art world. I will be hanging the new show tomorrow. Then for the next two days I am teaching another portrait workshop. After that is Paint Eastport Day, and then the Salmon Festival. Jesse and Sabrina plan to visit for that. It seems like such a short time ago that I was extolling the virtues of Spring, and now Fall is upon us. The Salmon Festival signifies the end of the season, and from now on the summer activities will dwindle and disappear. The cycle of life in Eastport goes on.

As I walked the dogs a short while ago, I found myself immersed in my surroundings. The weather, cool and breezy, gave me energy. The long sharp shadows sprawled across my path and created beautiful contrasts of light and dark. My mind wandered over the things around me, and my thoughts went no further than describing what I saw. I noted the new siding being put on the house down the street approvingly. The hydrangea bush in front of Greg's house caused me to think that the white blossoms were the Fall version of lilacs, just as pretty. I observed the construction at the bottom of the hill where a foundation is being built under the yellow house, checking the progress with benign interest. The ferry was just coming in as I walked by and I watched it dock, then moved on to mentally appreciate Lynn's new brick steps and her "rock" garden, which really is made up of nothing but light and dark rocks. I took a moment to look out over the water as I made my way up the street toward the house and saw how incredibly blue it is this time of year. The dog a few houses down barked as he always does when we passed, but Lytton and Patrick took no notice.

I don't think that most people have the luxury of immersing themselves in the present as I do on days like this. The terrible things that are happening all over the world don't touch me while I look at this world that I live in. I feel glad that I don't have to notice those awful things, that I am beyond looking, beyond turning myself inside out with rage at the fact that they exist. Eastport comforts me and protects me. It makes it possible for me to live this part of my life in a very small way.