Art In Sixes   11/18/17

Thrilled to be part of Art In Sixes once again this year. It's a small works show featuring an array of mediums and over a hundred artists. Needless to say, the opening was packed. Me, almost a recluse these days, had a fantastic time. Guess I needed some serious socializing! Plus, I felt proud of the pieces I submitted, probably my best group of work so far. All black and white photos and I loved every one of them. I can honestly say that I'm finally coming to grips with the fact that I'm a good photographer. Yes, I still have lots to learn but I'm losing much of my self-deprecation when it comes to my own work. Amazing positive feedback at the show, also sold one photo that of course gave me a boost. Actually, it was extremely touching for me because an artist whom I greatly admire bought it.

Art In Sixes is a yearly event at the DVAA - Delaware Valley Arts Alliance in Narrowsburg NY. A truly wonderful group of people keep this organization afloat and I suppose it's their incredible energy that made the opening super fun.

Below is one of the photos I chose to submit. It's a house I've photographed often on Block Island. An Edward Hopper feel for me. Love this house!

Traveling

Seems like I'm filled with the urge for going these days. It doesn't even matter where. Just want to be on the road. Of course, one does need a destination. Aimless wandering is probably not such a great idea.

This past weekend I went to visit a good friend in New Haven. My friend Maryanne has a lovely rambling old home just minutes from Yale. She's a retired professor and super fun. 

Left early Friday morning and got caught in a completely unexepected snow squall. At times visibility was about zero and I contemplated turning back. That didn't feel like fun, plus I had just put snow tires on my car.  I put snow tires on my car so I can drive in the snow, NOT stay home! Despite the snow mess, I still made it to New Haven in about 2 1/2 hours.

I want to focus on Stonington CT now. Yes, I went to an exhibit at the Yale Art Museum (it was fantastic) and a photo exhibit in Mystic (loved it!) but then there was Stonington...

I've been to this town many times on my own. Mostly in the early morning to shoot photos.  Still feel like I haven't captured it properly.
Stonington is about a 4 mile drive from Mystic. It is not a resort/tourist town and there's not much there. But I'm drawn to it in an inexplicable way. There is something. And if you feel it, well you know what I'm talking about. My friend Maryanne fell in love with Stonington. We had driven there for dinner but as we walked to the restaurant she mentioned wanting to spend the entire day there. She gets it. I was thrilled. Because there isn't much in Stonington. A handful of shops (maybe five) and a couple restaurants. Nothing much to do, but the town itself - understated charm.That is, if you feel it.

This is the story of Stonington, well at least what I can glean from reading and being there. It's very self-contained. Only a few blocks long, less than one square mile. Population about 1200. Many intellectuals and wealthy urban folks have settled there. One would think snooty perhaps, but I only find friendly. And the beauty. Hard to put into words. There is simple and palatial. One sees old fisherman's cottages sandwiched next to each other with barely any property and then the pillars of houses across the street on Fisher Island Sound. Those houses are wedged rather tightly together too.
A lone commercial fishing fleet still exists in Stonington and I've heard it's considered the heart and soul of the community. The old and the new co-existing. In harmony so it appears.
A writer once said of Stonington, "It's gray and lonely in winter, but those are perfect condtions for a writer." Perfect conditions for taking photos too I think. Ah, another winter destination.

I didn't get too many photos this time around. I've discovered that taking photos is a solitary project for me. Of course, Maryanne would've been fine doing something else but I found myself trying to shoot photos as we were walking and talking. That's tricky. But all ok. Everything about Stonington was close to perfect. I will return.
All these photos were taken with my $80 point and shoot. For some reason, lighter felt better.

The beginning - it got worse! But then got a little better...

Taken from a cafe in Mystic - insanely blustery and cold outside but sun shining, drinking coffee!

House, Stonington

Sunset, Stonington

Stonington






These photos are  from a few years ago, when I first stumbled upon Stonington.

Lighthouse

Time change and more

I'm probaby one of the few people who actually like the time change. I love morning light. And I don't mind the night's early darkness. Makes me want to crawl into bed with a book or a good movie. Getting into hiberation mood.

Summer lasted into fall this year and all I wanted was to be outside. I sort of forgot about house chores. And things do pile up. So for the last three days I've sequestered myself inside this house playing catch up. Reorganizng my office, cleaning cleaning cleaning, hauling wood inside, making sense of everything in the garage...feels good. I see progress! I did have to dash out for a few very quick errands and of course, brought my camera with me. Plus, there's always sunrise to catch in the field across the street, sometimes still in my pajamas.

Planning another mini-road trip end of the week, part of the impetus to pull everything in this house together. Headed to an art exhibit at a gallery on the Yale campus in New Haven, then onto Mystic for a photography show. Life is busy and good! Oh yeah, an old friend is playing music in Parksville NY this Wednesday night. Hoping to experiment a bit with taking photos of people, something I rarely do. Trying to challenge myself. Always.

Sunrise

Down by the river, the Delaware

On Swago Pond

Red sky at night sunset.

Feeling like the end of summer in October - on Swago Pond

Love this sunrise shot. Subtle color through the thick fog.

Fog

Those who know me well, know that I love fog. I stumbled upon incredible fog as I was driving to work yesterday. I wanted to walk into the forest and stay there...maybe forever.

Meanwhile, I was running late for work and had to be satisfied with a few quick snapshots. Sigh...

Sharing anyway and this is TWO posts in one day - a record for me I think!
On another completely different note, I somehow volunteered to help at a Halloween party in my little town. I call it my "little" town but it's no longer the sleepy town I once knew. There are two Halloween parties side by side. Oh my. But I might just go to both.

Autumn

I have grown to love fall. It didn't happen overnight. In fact, fall was my least favorite season for many years.
When I first moved to the northeast from Key West, fall stood out prominently as the harbinger of winter. The season that followed only conjured up thoughts of bitter cold and tons of snow. It frightened me with my tropical blood. It took years for me to even figure out the right clothing. Finally have that one together!

Things have changed. I have fallen in love with fall and I'm no longer afraid of winter. I view fall as  a treasured season. These days I savor every moment, getting outside as much as possible. Lots of biking and walking. Loving the colors. I'm mesmerized even though this hasn't been our best year for colors. But the warm weather...wow!

Soon the snow. Sometimes the snow comes as early as mid or late October. But this year's crazy unseasonable weather has left us all guessing. Who knows what's going to unfold and I sort of love the mystery of it all. Haven't even thought of snow tires yet. Next week...

For now, some photos.

On Swago Pond

This...

My favorite house on Block Island. I've photographed it countless times but every time I seem to capture a different feel, another mood, the light, the position of the clouds in the sky...

I know this house in every season now, yes even in the dead of winter. And it's always beautiful.

More Block Island

Block Island is truly magical and this time around was no exception. Summer weather in October. It was unbelievable. When an old friend, Thorpe, came over to visit, we headed to the beach. He wanted to go to my favorite beach. Yay! There are LOTS of beaches on Block Island; his choice was serendipitous. Close to perfect. A handful of tourists still lingered on the island but we had the whole beach to ourselves, well except for the seagulls. The waves were huge, aftermath of Tropical Storm Jose. Thorpe body surfed a little. I could see even he (a super brave strong guy) was humbled by the gigantic waves, also a serious rip current not to be taken lightly. I mostly chased the waves, running in and out like a kid, racing away from the 10-12  foot waves. Afterwards, it was so hot that I found myself taking a cold shower. Loved it! Shades of my days in the tropics.  I didn't want it to end. But --
I do have photos.

Churned up sea.

Thorpe heading to the lighthouse. Fog beginning to lift.

To the lighthouse - the fabulous beach is behind the North Lighthouse, the most northern tip of the island.

Hard to capture the magnitude of the waves with my little point and shoot. They came in sets and once in a while a HUGE wave would just blow me away. The power of nature.

Loved sharing the beach with only the seagulls, no other people. Probably because it's almost a 1/2 mile hike to the beach after a 5 mile bike ride. Well worth it!

Block Island

Almost every year I head to Block Island for at least a few days. It's a pilgrimage of sorts and I usually go alone. This year a friend joined me for my last day there. My friend lives in Tortola (British Virgin Islands) part of the year. Most of that island was completely devastated by Hurricane Irma. My friend knew that his house on Tortola had been destroyed but while on Block Island he received photos of his house via email. That is, what was left of it. Not much. Those pictures painted the harsh reality. Terribly sad. Words failed me.

That evening we walked to a quiet bar overlooking the sea. He read me this poem.


The Art Of Losing

BY ELIZABETH BISHOP

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

A 10 mile round trip bike ride to an almost completey deserted beach. Incredibly foggy. I was mesmerized. Huge waves lingering from Tropical Storm Jose. Fog lifted. An unusually hot September day. Like the summer we never had. I was in and out of the ocean. Ah, the salt air. Perfect beach day.

For Key West

Seems like Hurricane Irma is all I can think about. The devastation in some places in the Keys is hard to comprehend and my heart breaks for that beautiful string of islands. I feel deeply connected to Key West, the island I once called home. And to all the Keys where I once sailed, swam, worked, and lived a totally charmed existence.

In an attempt to get my mind on something other than Irma's aftermath, I began to stack wood today. Getting ready for winter. 

My mind kept wandering to my days in Key West. I remembered that leaving Key West was not an easy decision, but progress and too many tourists were changing the quality of life I'd once known. I finally made a terribly tough decision to leave Key West and bought a house in Pennsylvania, a completely land-locked area. I entered a period of confusion, which exists to this day.  I had lived in Key West for over twenty years and being near the sea, well that was home.

Shortly after I settled into my country home, a literary journal in Key West was focusing their first issue on the healing power of salt and the sea.  The confusion about my living situation prompted me to submit an essay for their first publication.

The journal didn't accept my submission, but they sent me copies of their publication for a long while. That was great because I fell in love with the journal and it kept me connected in a small way to my island home.  The journal was called "The Secret Of Salt."  There is a "secret," and only those who know the sea deeply can truly understand. 

Here's my essay: (posted once before in my blog, but bore repeating today)

Wood and Salt

It is only in recent years that I have been drawn to the remarkable quality of wood.  There is a certain allure with the smell of wood and the special warmth it provides me during the long cold winters.  These days I often feel that wood has healing qualities much like the solace I used to find with the salt and sea.

I don't recall how or when this happened.  I remember thinking that I would live on my island home of Key West forever.  I was captivated by that island like one is attracted to a crazy lover.  I was addicted to the tropical waters, my love of sailing, the wondrous feeling of dried salt on my body, and the scents and smells of a place that never quite leave you.  I had found a home that was closer to whatever I thought God was at the time.  I was a free spirit and wonderfully happy.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would find myself living on a remote hilltop in rural Pennsylvania some twenty years later.

Today it is early morning when that first hint of light is attempting to wake up the world.  I walk out slowly to the woodshed and gaze at the fresh snow that has fallen during the overnight.  Bitter cold hurts. Utter stillness comforts.  I gather as much wood as I can possibly hold to heat my little house for the morning.  My mind wanders to a time in Key West many years ago when I read about snow and silence in a small northeastern town.  I had secretly longed for this experience.  I wanted to hear the nothingness, to know this totally different world.  And today, the only sound for miles around is my boots crunching in this icy snow.  I have arrived. 

In the morning's quiet, I walk back to my house.  I quickly throw the kindling, newspaper, and logs into the wood stove.  I am proud of how adept I have become at starting fires. In only a matter of minutes, a roaring fire engulfs my small stove and the heat begins to make its way through the chill.  Soon I am surrounded by a warmth, which only one who knows a wood fire can fully comprehend.  I am totally at peace and want to be nowhere but here.  Yet tonight I will dream of Key West.

I feel the contrast of my life in this photo, the wood, the paddle, and the painting somewhat hidden - an island I once visited on a sailboat. Sadly, all my photos of Key West have recently disappeared from my computer (?)

Hurricane Season

It is September 7. We're in the height of hurricane season and Hurricane Irma is possibly proving to be one of the worst storms on record. Right on the tail of Harvey, which we 'thought' was our worst storm.

Many of my friends are in Irma's uncertain path. Some friends have already seen their houses and precious island homes completely destroyed. St. Maarten (northeast Caribbean) and Tortola (British Virgin Islands) are both practically leveled with just about everyone homeless. Impossible to wrap my mind around. I struggle to find words to express my sadness to friends, only realizing there are no words for this.
Then there is Key West with a mandatory evacuation in place and still a handful of friends are staying. I worry for them but Key West has their stalwart residents. They will ride this out. Hopefully.
I have a few friends with places in Culebra, Puerto Rico. They're feeling helpless as they are here and their houses are in Puerto Rico.
One of my best friends who lives  in St Pete Beach drove to a safe place in Valdosta GA yesterday. A 10 1/2 hour drive that should've taken 4 hours. Many people trying to get ahead of the storm. Now coastal Georgia is evacuating. It's insane. My sister in Orlando is expected to get hit hard. I sleep with my iPad at night, watching Irma's track and holding onto hope for all those in Irma's path.
When I lived in Key West many years ago Jimmy Buffet was singing at the local bars. I remember he wrote a song, "Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season." None of us at that time in our young lives had ever witnessed a serious hurricane. A "hurricane warning" for us was just another  excuse for a party. I lived through many hurricanes with way too many parties. A few strong hurricanes that narrowly missed Key West changed the tone of our parties. All of a sudden many of us had evacuation plans. Parties were no longer in our hurricane repertoire. A hurricane was now a force to be reckoned with. And we began to take these storms seriously. Very seriously.
Today I am almost obsessed by tracking Irma. I am fascinated and humbled by weather. And afraid of this storm. Really afraid. How much more damage can it do?

I want to post photos today so decided to sift through photographs of the sea, the waves, storms...
Here's what I came up with.

Saturday, September 2.  Summer...still.

35 degrees this morning. Snug and cozy in my bed fast asleep at 5 a.m. Then my alarm went off. Oops. Forgot to turn off my cell phone last night. Gazing out my bedroom window I could see the outside world waking up. Because I love mornings, I made the decision to not turn over and go back to sleep. Well worth it. Gorgeous sunrise. Then I hauled in a few logs in my half sleepy state. Wood fire roaring now and house is wonderfully warm.

August 25

I love that I can see the sunrise from my bed when I wake in the early morning. Today's sunrise had me jumping out of bed to grab my camera. Gorgeous morning. Shades of autumn in the air but I'm okay with it. 

Got in two invigorating bike rides in the morning hours - one on the hills in my neighborhood (challenging!) and then another along the River Road in PA. No pics from the bike ride but I do have photos from the morning sunrise. Some days I love where I live! Today is one of those days.

August 22

Trying to post more frequently on my blog. Of course, that means I need a photo just about every day. I try to shoot pics daily, but sometimes I'm not inspired or it's raining too hard or... ah, there's a litany of excuses.

This was a quick shot this morning. I literally jumped out of my car and shot the reservoir in 2 seconds as I was running late for work.

This isn't one of my favorite shots, but I loved the fog.

Pepacton Reservoir, Downsville NY

and this - from yesterday morning

Morning Light

I noticed the early morning light yesterday from my living room window. Something about the mix of fog and sunlight. Ah, morning. My favorite time of day.

Summer's Harvest

Just finished making 2 more batches of pesto. Seems like a daily event for me this time of year with an overabundance of basil in my garden. At this point, I believe I have enough pesto for all of Wayne County, possibly Sullivan. My friends are growing tired of it. However, soon will come winter. Then will be a perfect time to pull the frozen pesto out of the freezer. Add a roaring fire and a bottle of fine red wine. We will fall in love with pesto all over again and maybe even winter.

For now, summer is upon us and well...it's beautiful.

Today almost felt like summer. The temperature hit 78 degrees, but still a lack of a serious summer feel with no humidity. I miss having a real summer.

Sunrise was a bit "dusty" this morning, a term I recently heard a  4-year old use at the lake when he walked out of the house on a super foggy morning. He looked around and stated, "It's SO dusty!" Loved it! My new word for fog. Yes, it can get quite dusty some mornings around here.

I'm rather obsessed with paddle boarding at the moment. Yep, my new passion. I don't want it to take over my photography but I doubt that I'll stop shooting photos. I believe the more you do the more you're able to do. I included a photo of me on the paddle board on my blog today - I never post pictures of me on my blog. An exception. Only for today. Taken by my dear friend Greg Adrian with my little point and shoot. 

Summer is beautiful despite the fact that it's not living up to its reputation. Come on summer!! Not much time left.

Another gorgeous sunset on Swago Pond

On Swago Pond - me.

sunrise -  a little dusty

Cow