Showers on Great Salt Bay

I just painted through sunny, cloudy, and rainy weather all in one four day stretch. I didn't care.  I stayed close to Great Salt Bay in Damariscotta, Maine, loving every minute. 

   

One day I painted a row of large pine trees ...

Great Salt Bay Pines, 8x16 oil on canvas

The next evening I painted a pond and meadows as the sun set behind the distant ridge.

Sunset Study, 8x16 oil on canvas

Another evening a huge bank of clouds moved in and the pond had such gorgeous colors...

Evening Study, 9x12 oil on panel

 I love August ! There is a deep summer atmosphere going on. Even on a misty showery day it is very subdued.

I stayed near my car in case the clouds decided to drop a lot of rain.

It was bright, and the air was thick with moisture. 

The clouds moved steadily overhead. It sprinkled for a few minutes. 

I kept painting, laying in the muted soft colors I saw in the meadows, trees and distant ridge. 

Every now and then the sun poked through so I kept my hat on to prevent a sun burn.

By mid-morning I finished a painting of the hilly meadow with the trees.

Great Salt Bay Farm has a mile of waterfront. Walking trails cross all over the property.  I  planned to walk down to the shore to paint, but it started to rain.  

I always carry my binoculars with me....so out they came. They are so handy in a situation like this.

I could paint my chosen subject and stay right next to my car !

I worked on the composition by painting in all the masses of trees, bushes and grass and leaving my lightest water and distant shapes unpainted.

I love painting this way because this is how I actually perceive everything... 

as interesting arrangements of shapes, lines and masses of different colors.

A visitor ! My best friend Libby arrived bringing a basket of blueberries hoping I would pause and have lunch with her. It's not raining, therefore a perfect time to sit and munch.

Then it's back to the binoculars and paint brushes. 

I look through the binoculars and stare intently at the trees. I memorize what I see. I put the binoculars away and paint. Gustav Klimt did this for some of the landscapes he painted. That's where I got the idea.  

It's still threatening to rain, but I know I have go paint at Oyster Creek before I pack up the brushes for the day. 

I park near the bridge looking up the creek at a farm on the distant bank.

It is getting late now and I know I have to move fast on this one. I sketch in the shapes on a 16x20 panel.

The tide has turned, it is just starting to go out.  

I mix a batch of colors. I place the color notes and values, picking and choosing as I go, painting with a large brush so I can get this scene down fast! 

This creek is way up at the top of the Great Salt Bay. It's tidal but the land around it looks more like inland Maine.   

It's almost evening but I still have enough light from the high overcast sky.

I like the feeling of this open expanse of water. I wish I was painting this view on a bigger panel so I could put in more details .

The breeze started to pick up and create patterns on the surface of the water.  Is this a sign of rain coming?  

I put in a few more colors, packed my car and hit the road. I have enough blocked in to finish all these paintings in the studio.  And I'm coming back here to paint in October... guaranteed! 

FOR MY NEW FALL CLASSES see... PAINT EAT SLEEP

Tall Pines Late Light

I'm really beginning to think about why I paint en plein air... why, after 5 years of painting all most exclusively out doors its so hard to come back indoors... 

I get to be in the most awesome places... often with very few people around and with a great variety of wildlife. Once upon a time you only found fishermen and hunters in these places ... its clear to me that for them the "sport" aspect is only part of the attraction...

When I go out painting for a week or more, I don't bother with the news or internet. I call home daily to report on my travels and painting progress. If I'm not too tired, I read art books before I fall asleep.  I don't have a habit of watching TV.  Did I mention that I don't watch TV at home either? I don't miss it . Ever.

When I return home from a painting trip I can catch up on everything important in about 30 minutes...the bank crash of 2008 happened when I was out west in Idaho painting in the Teton Valley with Scott Christensen's advanced group... someone heard about it one night and told the rest of us the next day...

Did it affect our painting?  Can't say it did. We were totally immersed in painting the land and the challenge of doing it every day, trying to grow beyond our limitations...the world with all its information didn't disappear, it was waiting for us on our return home.

The perspective I gain from this process of entering and reentering the landscape is one that is a connection that lasts beyond the temporary...The earth is old. It was here before I was  and will be here after I'm gone, I'm visiting for a short while ... 

I am very lucky. I can leave my house, drive 10 or 20 minutes in several directions and arrive in a quiet place where nature dominates the landscape. I'm not saying I don't like painting in cities. I sometimes do. Its just that on life's journey I somehow ended up in this beautiful place called Maine.

  

And I'm glad I did.

The photos above are from my recent trip to Vinalhaven, an island off the coast of Rockland, Maine. The last twilight picture is a view from the west side of the island looking toward the mainland with the first lights coming on in Rockland, Maine. 

Tall Pines field sketch 11x14, oil on canvas panel.

More paintings at PAINT EAT SLEEP 

Painting the Perfect Maine Island

The ferry ride from Rockland, Maine to the island of Vinalhaven is about an hour and 15 minutes long. When you get there you feel like you've traveled back in time about 30 years.

You can't figure out why. Its a funny feeling you can't quite put your finger on.  First of all there are only about 1300 people on the whole island.... the town is full of old New England houses and the views are quintessential coast of Maine. 

 

I went here to paint as a friend recommended it as "untouched", "the real Maine".  I've been to Monhegan painting ... this is the real deal...a Maine plein air  paradise!

  There was so much to paint.  It was a visual overload.  Every view had that wonderful Maine flavor.  Old granite docks, fish shacks, houses clustered against the rocky hillside, a multitude of  tiny islands strewn across the bay and those spiky pine trees everywhere.  

When we arrived on a Monday afternoon- the Main Street was quiet & empty...  No people, no cars.   The ferry terminal gave us a map so we could find our way around.  Good thing as there was no one to ask if we were lost...

The town dock and the harbor were the only places that showed signs of life.  Boats were coming in with the day's catch and  pickup trucks were all lined up at the dock waiting for their owners.  

I headed off immediately to scout out painting locations.  The island is sprinkled with old granite quarries. It's famous for its granite. The Washington Monument, the Brooklyn Bridge and the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine are built of Vinalhaven granite.

It has this wonderful variety of islands of all shapes and sizes. 

Pointy dark green pines grow on any bit of earth on top of all this rock. 

Docks and wharves are built of solid granite making you think you are walking on land then you realize its a man made peninsula...

Every jagged edge of coast line around the southern protected harbor is full of fish shacks and busy docks. 

Big round boulders of granite sit on ledges and are scattered across islands.

Every paved road turns into a dirt road that becomes a dead end with a gorgeous view of a harbor, another island or the mainland.  

At low tide Carvers Pond empties into Carvers Harbor and makes a sound like the rapids of a big river. 

When evening comes the town is dark and quiet, only one third of the houses light up.  That's when you see how few people there really are here...