Navigating the Currents

A STORY of MEMORIES —

The times when I want to change something, I look at what's perfect. I delight in the myriad of hues that take me beautifully through my days and into my evenings. Twilight — that magical time when ocean's blues begin their surrender to midnight black.  There's a timeless romance shared between the moon and the sea and the dimly lit clouds that float over a seascape of indigo waves--where the cool rippling waters meet pebbled shores, and the sound of the gulls shrill clear in the air. These intimate moments, witnessing and painting the sea, I'll always have lingering memories of the sights, the scents, and the sounds. With this, my memories, luxury is an everyday sensation. My natural instincts for survival always keep me steering clear of the rapids. When the noise in my head drowns out the sounds of the sea, I go outside and surrender myself to her, so that I'll finally hear the truth — and keep from going deaf! Too much internal noise, causes me to stop listening--causes me to want to change things and alter my course. Ahh! But, hoist the mainsail and scuttle the jib! I've spied the treasures of the sea! Here, I can be the empty vessel letting the current take me to the next destination. Set the course for a long, carefree sail where my thoughts can be as light as a trade-wind.

PREVIOUS COMMENTS

Unknown said...

So excited to read this! It just makes me feel like the ocean can indeed be found in my heart, which is landlocked in Colorado . Beautiful work, friend!

Winter with the Egeli’s: Reflecting on an Early Morning in Edgewater

A brief MEMORY — from my month of Studying Portrait Painting and Figure Drawing with the Egeli’s. It was a cold January in 2002.

Old year out, new year in. And so it goes, past and future: each minute precious! Burrowing back under the covers on a cold winter morning is always a temptation, but you’ve got to emerge from your cozy nest ‘neath the covers sometime. To help me embrace the day in equal bliss, a copious amount of caffeine was top on my agenda. So off we headed to “that coffee house”, the one that shall remain nameless for reasons I can’t divulge. Best intentions aside, the first order of business of each of my days was pleasure, a 20oz mocha generous enough to warm both hands and the NY Times crossword puzzle. Of course, we had to buy two copies of the Times, one for Camille, and one for me, for the crossword had become an activity in which to indulge in immature competitiveness. And Cynthia was content with reading the morning sports section while occasionally blurting out tennis stats across the table. Like a barely heard Latin tempo–I could barely hear the Latin tempo — but pulsing with energy, we prepared ourselves for the day ahead. (By the way, I’m in awe of people who can talk out loud in a public space and not care that nobody is listening–the reason I could barely hear the Latin tempo.) We collected ourselves to face the bitter cold. I only say that because we’re from California, "the land of endless sunshine." On schedule, we jumped into our truck, that truck that Cynthia aptly named our “estrogen chassis” — It was a huge king cab Ford truck that made everything around it look fascinatingly tiny. The sprinkles fell as scheduled. It only takes one little leap of imagination to see these brilliant shiny drops of water as tiny celebrations, for the jewel-bright droplets seemed to sprinkle effervescence on the day. And like clockwork, the three of us pulled our “estrogen chassis” into that always so tight little corner in front of Cedric and Joanette’s studio. We noisily bounded into the studio with our gear as if we were greeting a long lost lover.   Deep in the snowy woods of Edgewater, all laid chilled and hushed, a dreamland bower blanketed in serenity. But at the break of dawn, powdery morning mists danced in the shafts of light that filtered through the firs, giving the moment a pristine, ethereal look. Everything was lusciously hued as a mocha laced with whipped cream. A winter scape's quiet serenity in its hushed hues of ivory snow, sky blue, tree bark grey and chimney smoke charcoal tempted me to stay outdoors and play. But I knew that the instruction I was to receive was going to be like no other. If you’ve ever contemplated taking a month off to study with Cedric and Joanette Egeli, do what it takes to get yourself there, for as spectacular the setting of the space, the workshop is SO much more!

America's Giverny

A MEMORY — My story, which took place in Oct 2004, was published in the January 2005 issue of Plein Air Magazine. Here it is below.

During the 18th Annual Plein Air Painters of America Workshop and Exhibition in the turn-of-the-century impressionist art colony of Old Lyme CT, 100 eager students embraced the seaside wind chill and intermittent rain and sunshine to paint among a few of the most recognized plein air painters in the nation. The instructors were Kenn Backhaus, Gay Faulkenberry, Louise Demore, Joseph Mendez, Ralph Oberg, Joseph Paquet, Ron Rencher, Brian Stewart, George Strickland, Linda Tippetts and Skip Whitcomb.

We're in a land of patterns and contrasts, with trees of saffron, terra cotta, and gold dust. With deep tones of copper and canary yellow against lapis lazuli skies, the cool October light and warm shadows reinterpreted the blues of the Connecticut River. This was the second consecutive year that PAPA visited Old Lyme. This year our group decided to come a month later to experience the fall foliage. We were deep in America's own Giverny at the most beautiful time of year, participating in a workshop with the highest caliber of plein air painting instruction.

Each instructor — with 10-15 students — had a designated painting spot for the week. The designations sent students to local homeowners' properties, to farms, marinas and nearby towns of Noank, Essex, East Haddam, Mystic, Guilford, and Clinton.

The workshop's opening day brought a westerly breeze that dropped the early-morning temperature to somewhere around forty degrees. A handful of other students and I set up our easels behind the Goodspeed Opera House in East Haddam.

Our instructor for the day, Ray Roberts — a plein air painter with an obsessive passion for finding the beautiful shapes in nature, assembled simple shapes like mosaics while demonstrating and lecturing about the fundamental truths of composing and executing a great painting. "When approaching the scene, it's all about patterns, light and dark patterns," Roberts explained. "There are infinite patterns in any given scene."

The following day, a whole new group of students worked at Lobster Landing in Clinton. George Strickland, our instructor and the current president of PAPA, explained to us that he focuses on what compels him to paint a particular scene. "I feel it's important for all of us to find that out." Strickland also stresses the importance of finding our own voices.

One day, the entire group visited historic Mystic Seaport. The instructors painted for three hours; then the students participated in a mass paint-out as the instructors offered critiques and advice. It was a perfect sunny afternoon of painting among the old sailing vessels and the nostalgic setting of the seaport museum.

Ralph Oberg spent a day at Griswold Point on the distinguished Connecticut Griswold family compound. The rains had come, but the wet weather was intermittent, so we toughed it out. Oberg quoted the late Russian impressionist, Sergei Bongard, "Paint the trees before the leaves and the dog before the fleas" and stressed that a good composition must be simple and strong.

Our rain soaked day was rewarded by a private preview showing of Plein Air Color & Light, an exhibition and sale of paintings by signature members of PAPA and dinner at the Hideaway Restaurant & Pub, the designated nightly hot spot among many of us for good conversation and drink with a few new friends.

On a cool crisp morning on Tiffany Farm, Kenn Backhaus demonstrated painting a cluster of barns receding into the fog. Backhaus explained, "When physics and poetry are combined in a painting, it makes a great work of art." By physics, he meant drawing, perspective, and value sense. Poetry he defined as the ethereal quality that occurs from being “in the zone” while painting. It quickly became another challenging day as the rain began to pour after lunch, but we stayed to work on our afternoon studies.

A raffle mixer followed the workshop at the Florence Griswold Museum. Our paintings were set up for viewing by the rest of the group, and we enjoyed wine, hors d'oeuvres and banter. As George Strickland called random names drawn from a hat, students roared with cheers as lucky winners received an assortment of gifts.

Saturday night, we were reunited again for the grand opening of Plein Air Color & Light. It was a fine evening at the Lyme Art Association. as wine flowed and paintings sold. Smiles and laughter prevailed in "America's Giverny".