Yeah, it's pretty

Here's another watercolor from the East Machias pictures. It doesn't have a lot of personality, but it's nice. It's small, with dollar signs all over it........

Another Watercolor

In my usual Fall frenzy of moving things around I changed where my studio is. I swapped the guest room and the studio, which makes the studio very small. Nevertheless, I like the change. It's very bright and I can see the water out the window. The now guest room, however, is crammed with everything that won't fit elsewhere, including art related stuff not necessary for immediate use.

In honor of the move, I painted this watercolor of East Machias from a photo I took last week on the way back from Ann's. I think it almost has the look I am striving for. It's a little bigger than what I have been doing, and I think that helps me loosen up. I took other pictures of the same area, which is really pretty in that "small town America" way. I'm expecting great things of myself.

Shoes and Bread

I like my new shoes with my colored socks.

I like my no-knead bread.

Cutler Watercolor

I did this today at Sydney's from a photo I took while kayaking. It's interesting to take a regular daytime picture and turn it into a sunset with the photo editor.......I thought of this because of the yellow sky in the last watercolor I did. One thing I will say....that sky piece is the best wash I've ever done. Not a flaw in it.

Lytton Relaxing

Lilac

Poor Lilac is molting in a very unatttractive way. Poppy is starting to molt, too. Talk about ugly chickens.......

Najih

I posted this on the FLES blog, but I had to put it here, too. What a gorgeous boy!

Turning Color

On the way back from Harrington the other day I took a different route to avoid construction on rte 1. It gave me a chance to see the foliage, which is turning more colorful every day. I don't think this is going to be a particularly spectacular Fall, but each year has its own charm. Right now things are still subdued, which is more to my taste than when the leaves are outrageously brilliant. I was in Vermont for a week several years ago painting with Thelma and I swear my eyes hurt from the overwhelming color. I've never seen it like that in Maine and was certainly impressed. There's something about seeing the ultimate of anything that is a little sad. You know that from that point on other similar sights of the same thing will never be quite as good. I felt that way about Vermont. It was almost too much...

Pretty Good

Of all the renditions of this image I've done, I think this Watercolor is the best. Maybe now I will leave it alone.

Living Room

I re-arranged the living room again and here is a flattering picture of it. I can't count the incarnations of this room, or any other in any house I have lived. I don't know why I feel a recurring craving to rearrange things . I have always liked being in unfamiliar places, and perhaps this is my way of keeping my environment somewhat unfamiliar. I used to move every year or so to a different house, but my ability to do that is almost non-existent now. I have planted myself here with dogs and chickens and a garden. There is too much now that can't go with me. My options have shrunk almost to none. Once in awhile I think about going somewhere else, but it is a fleeting idea. I love my house and its location. I can have everything that is important to me. My landlady is more than any tenant could ask for. I have the freedom to treat this place as my own. It feels like my home in a way that no other place has.

The house where I lived when I was married and bringing up the kids was a wonderful big white house built in 1845. It was on a tree-lined street across form a huge park that was once a town common. The front doors were double, with etched glass, and the carved newel post in the front hall was mahogany, with a once gas fired chandelier hanging over it from the ceiling on the second floor. There was an oriental carpet on the stairs, and an upstairs hall as big as my living room is now. There was a pantry next to the kitchen with built in cupboards and drawers, and a little sink. One living room had a big bay window overlooking the park, and the room across the hall held our baby grand piano. The dining room looked out on a little fenced-in yard between the house and the garage, which was once a carriage house and had a cupola on the roof. We owned that house, but I always felt we were guardians of it rather than owners. It seemed a privilege to be there for a time, yet it seemed more permanent than our own lives.....a place where people came and went over the generations while it remained, unchanged. I loved it, and still do, but I was more a tenant there than I am here. Despite the fact that this house is almost as old as that one, this is a down to earth house in a down to earth town. This is where I am comfortable and happy.

Peace Lily

I've had this plant for twenty years, and this is the first time it has blossomed. Go figure.