There are places here at home where I go, again and again, to paint. Harkness is one of them.
Sure, I'm interested in the gardens and the house and the beach, but it's really the inlet and the marshy ground around it that fascinates me. I love the way the water sneaks in and curls around. I love the grassy lands that spring up around the Sound's incursion. I love the colors that the grass and the water pick up, especially as the sun goes down beyond them.
I paint this same scene over and over, and I don't tire of it. It compels me to experiment, to try new things, strive in new ways to capture this essence that so moves me.
Partly, I'm sure, I love this place because of the memories attached to it. How many times we picnicked here, as a family first, and then just Mom and us kids. How many times I ran here. How many times, as a teenager, I came here with friends and boyfriends, and alone, to walk and muse, and move toward growing up.
Now I am moving toward growing old. There's no denying it. And still, this same place calls me, with its big sky and its warm fields and its lifetime of memories.
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