Watch Hill Dock. Oil on stretched canvas, 4x8
At our house, Sunday felt like summer. It was 30 degrees at 7 a.m. when I took the dogs out, and I wondered whether I should start looking for some shorts. By mid-afternoon, it was in the 40s, and I started thinking about putting the top down on the Miata when I went out to paint. Theories of relativity, eh?
In Watch Hill, Sunday was not quite so summery. All the stores were closed, and the streets deserted. The bay was frozen, and the wind that swept over it picked up its chill. But around the pilings on the docks, aerators bubbled, keeping the water open.
I was captivated by the way the water opened in s-curves around the dock footings, and I made two paintings before I was too cold to go on. I haven't captured that open water precisely to my liking, but I'm going to go down to my basement studio today and take another stab at it. I do like the way the reflections of the pilings look in this painting.
Chris Rose, who runs the Lighthouse Gallery in Groton, sent me the postcard for the March show he's mounting, of my work and the paintings of Laura Maiolo. He's got a great idea for the show, I think - "Places You Know - small pieces" by Laura and me. I'm pretty excited about it, and plan to spend this short month painting small, lovely landscapes. As my mother would have said, jingle your bells for me, would you, please?