Scenes from an Opening

Here's Chris Rose, curator of the Lighthouse Gallery, in front of a wall of dogs. 

Here's a couple of the dangerous-looking types that haunt the Lighthouse Gallery... I'm married to the one with the beard... the other is Carden Holland, my partner in crime in "Places & Pets." 

Here's Chris again, in front of the Sams. 

"Rocky," "Giles, Goat Boy" and "How Now?"

These twin teenagers came with their dad; they spent a long time with my paintings, and it was great to watch them. Here, one of the twins is clearly suspicious of the lurker. 

A wall of dogs and cows.

The Lighthouse Gallery at night. It's a gallery in a strip mall on Long Hill Road in Groton, Conn., and to me, its everyday location is a real plus. It's a friendly place that invites everyone.




The opening reception at the Lighthouse Gallery was jammed; I stopped taking photos when the place got crowded - and I still didn't get to spend as much time as I'd have liked with some of the people who came so far out of their way to attend the opening.

I am feeling a little low, this snowy morning. I find this is something that happens after openings. I stretch myself to the edges of exhaustion, always pushing right up to the very last minute - and then it's over. I'm tired, I feel painted out, my direction at least momentarily unclear. None of my pieces sold, either, and while I expected that, it adds to the malaise, as does a rejection from the Connecticut Artists Show.

So went out yesterday, in the midst of a driving snowstorm, and attempted a plein air painting - but it was just too brutal, and the snow fell so fast, I couldn't keep the canvas clear. I came in and dried off, warmed up, and cooked, which in my opinion is one of the best ways in the world to spend a snowy afternoon.

Today, the world looks good again, and I can hardly wait to get out there and paint.