Rediscovering Drawing - A Conversation with the Landscape

My focus as an artist has always been painting. However, during my years of teaching in high school, middle school, and college, I developed many exercises, assigned year after year, introducing beginning classes to drawing. Personally, I drew when I was puzzling out a new subject, constructing a composition for a painting, or working outside.

That changed this year. I retired from teaching and had more time for making art, and for playing around with an idea before starting a painting. I began to appreciate my drawing as work that stands alone, and does not rely on a painting to give it value. And, after all those years of demonstrating and talking about making marks in my classroom, I have embraced those lessons myself, and transport my work easily into their language.

I wrote an earlier post about Drawing in the Desert
(/ninajerome/2016/03/drawing-in-desert.html) in which I described exploring unfamiliar landscape in Tucson, Arizona. Again, during my stay on Great Cranberry Island with the Heliker-LaHotan Foundation, drawing was a primary part of the process. I drew every day, sometimes in preparation for a painting, but often to identify my interests or to mark my presence in the environment, a kind of conversation with the landscape.

I drew from my studio - from the windows or in the immediate area.

Tree at the Pool, 11x14, charcoal

 Fog in the Cove, gouache, 5x8

Morning Fog, gouache, 8x10

I drew as an activity of recording what I saw as I walked along the shore on Long Point or at the south end of the island.

Beach at Long Point, charcoal, 9x12

Long Point, High Tide in Fog, water soluble graphite, 8x10

The View from Long Point, 9x12, charcoal

Toward Dead Man's Point, charcoal, 9x12

I drew both the land along the shoreline and the incoming tide, curious about how to capture the movement of the water as it coursed into the area of the pool and crept closer to the shore. Although there are paintings related to some, I consider the drawings to have their own identity.

Incoming Tide on Long Point, charcoal, 9x12

The work that most connected me to the drawing process were the pieces that I made on the Back Shore, a place I returned to many times to observe the chaotic jumble of rocks beside the sea. 

Back Shore 9/25, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Back Shore 9/25.2, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Back Shore 9/28, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Back Shore 9/28.2, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Each day when I returned to the studio, I hung the work completed that day. Gradually, the wall filled with drawings; drawings that I considered to stand on their own as a record of my curiosity as I explored the island. 

Studio wall in LaHotan Studio, varied materials

Studio wall, water soluble graphite on yupo

A Painting Residency on Great Cranberry Island

Poster for our slide talks during the first week of the residency

I spent the month of September on Great Cranberry Island as a resident at the Heliker-LaHotan Foundation. John Heliker and Robert LaHotan lived and painted on the island during the latter part of the 20^th Century and left their home and studios, located on The Pool, as a place for artists to live and work every summer.

The La-Hotan Studio

I shared a house with two other artists, painted in the La-Hotan Studio, and rode a bike (for the first time in years) to explore the numerous beaches and sites on the two and a half mile island off the coast of Mount Desert Island.  Every day, the entire day was mine for exploring, selecting, and responding. This freedom imposed the burden to choose well and to focus on ideas that would lead to compelling work. As the three of us sat at breakfast each morning, we enjoyed the calm of each other’s company until the decision had to be made – how to use this day?

After initial exploration, I settled into favorite spots. Long Point on the north side of the island provided views of Acadia to the north and The Pool to the south.

Painting in progress on the north beach.

Painting in progress at Long Point

September Light, Toward Fish Point, 16x20, oil


Fish Point from the Shore at Long Point, 24x24, oil on canvas, 2016

The Big View at the south end of the island looked across fields and multiple bodies of water toward Acadia National Park. It's a popular painting spot, and I had to take my turn. 

Painting in progress

24x30, oil on canvas

I loved the beach at Birlem Cove on the Back Shore, with its chaotic combination of jagged basalt and smooth, rounded pink granite boulders. 

Back Shore beach

The Beach at Birlem Cove, 11x14, graphite

 Drawings and paintings of the Back Shore and other sites

Painting in progress on the Back Shore

I also worked from the comfort of my studio, where there was always something dynamic going on with shifting light and tide outside my windows or along the beach out front.

The Pool from the LaHotan Studio

Unsettled, 11x14, oil on paper

Painting fog from the studio

Breaking Through, 12x12, oil on canvas, 2016

Morning Fog, 11x14, oil on canvas

Shore Along the Pool, 24x24, oil, 2016

Open Studio on the last day of the residency

The light of this visually rich environment was varied and magical, providing continuous presence of painting possibilities. I began a series of paintings, a response to the shifting light and color that surrounded me, and completed more than thirty-five drawings, a short-hand gestural record of my daily explorations. Now, in my studio at home, I observe the paintings again, seeing them on their own, disassociated from the place I observed and enjoyed. Some require revision. I make decisions and resolve not to overwork, and to retain the visual concepts and sense of place that prompted them. 

I feel tremendous gratitude to the Heliker-LaHotan Foundation for this gift of time and place.

Sunrise on The Pool at the end of The Lane, the road where I lived for the month. 

Addison Summer

There is something about living in Addison, waking up and going to sleep surrounded by woods, water, and light that prompts me to work differently from my usual studio practice. While living in nature, I respond directly to what I see on a daily basis, challenged to select slices of the most compelling moments. In making those mysterious, creative decisions I know that the more intuitive, and less rational I am when making choices, the more engaged I will be with the process. I react and try not to direct, and consider each painting an exercise in seeing, recording, and marking my path through these warmer months.

In summer, combine en plein air practice with studio painting. Although small painting studies may be completed in one outside excursion, larger ones require either a return to the spot, or a more considered approach in the studio. Small paint sketches often provide resources for larger paintings.

Addison painting is coming to an end as I prepare for my month-long residency at the Heliker-Lahotan Foundation on Great Cranberry Island in September.

A selection of paintings from Summer 2016.

Lagoon at Loon Point, oil, 16x20

 Loon Point Lagoon Study, 2, acrylic on panel, 8x10

Loon Point Lagoon Study, 1, acrylic on paper

Sheep Island at Noon, acrylic and oil, 8x10

 Cape Split Meadow, oil, 11x14

Basin Morning, acrylic, 12x12

Wahoa Bay, Sawyer and Goose, acrylic, 12x12

Fourth of July Morning, acrylic and oil, 16x20

 Bickford Point Daisies, acrylic on panel, 8x10

Unsettled June, Bickford Point, acrylic, 11x14

The Freedom to Work Outdoors

I have spent the last month drawing and painting outdoors. I visited Monhegan Island for a few days to hike, explore, and draw, scouting out some favorite spots for my next visit. In Addison, generous neighbors have shared two of my favorite places to which I have returned at different times, tides, and weather.

Bickford Point - Wahoa Bay

Making a plan, organizing equipment, and moving around on the land helps to get over the initial hurdle. Considering different directions and observing shapes and shadows are part of the dance, but eventually I make a decision about the spot, the composition, and begin with one color. I know that I'm in when my brush begins to crave different colors and I lose myself in the process of contrasts and color relationships. 

Basin Road - Wahoa Bay

Some of the paintings are finished in one sitting. Some require a return to the spot, are resolved in the studio, or discarded. Being outside provides an immediacy of purpose and the process becomes pure focus.  

Monhegan Hilltop Drawing Study

Burnt Head, Monhegan

A Visual Season

Boston Take-off 1, charcoal, 26x20. 2016

There is a sense of euphoria in Maine at this time of year as we all begin to anticipate the warmth of a new season. For artists, part of the excitement is also the completion of winter work and its delivery to exhibitions. The last six months have been satisfying, as painting and related activity have expanded to fill my days after retirement from teaching. It’s an enjoyable challenge to adapt to a new work rhythm and I’m confident that it will continue to evolve as I settle into my own work.

Here’s a schedule of some upcoming activity and places where you can see my work this summer. I’m excited about being able to show in these inviting art spaces, with thoughtful gallerists and curators, in Maine and beyond.

Solo Exhibition

July 16 – August 21

George Marshall Store

140 Lindsay Road

York, Maine

Land Marks – On the Move

http://www.georgemarshallstoregallery.com/

Hackensack River Intersections, oil on linen, 30x30

Group Exhibitions

May 28 – August 14

Peters Valley School of Craft

19 Kuhn Rd, Layton, NJ

Making Matters: Fresh Perspectives in Fine Craft

https://www.petersvalley.org/html/gallery_exhibitions.cfm

 Marsh Harbor Afternoon, 18x24, oil on linen, 2015

May 15 – September 30

The Gallery at Somes Sound

PO Box 203, Mt. Desert, Maine 

http://www.galleryatsomessound.com/home

 Bald Mountain 1, Acadia National Park, 16x20, oil on linen, 2016

Memorial Day – Columbus Day

The Turtle Gallery

61 North Deer Isle Road
Deer Isle, Maine

http://theturtlegallery.com/home.html

Penobscot Bay Looking South from Great Spruce Head Island, 12x24, oil on canvas, 2015

Ongoing

Elizabeth Moss Gallery

251 U.S. Route 1

Falmouth, Maine

http://www.elizabethmossgalleries.com/#!nina-jerome/cqvj

Teaching - Drawing and Painting Workshop

July 29-Aug 2

Peters Valley School of Craft

Layton, New Jersey

Seeing Natural Spaces - Working with Marks and Color

http://www.petersvalleyworkshops.bigcartel.com/product/seeing-natural-spaces-working-with-marks-color

Painting Residency

September 2016

Heliker-LaHotan Foundation

Great Cranberry Island, Maine

http://www.heliker-lahotan.org/residency.html

Drawing in the Desert

Via Raposa toward the Catalinas - March 15
Conte crayon

During my two week stay in Tucson I drew on an almost daily basis. In March the Sonoran Desert is green with abundant vegetation of varied shapes and textures. The sun-drenched landscape contrasts greatly to that of Maine and loses most of its shadows by mid morning. To my eye variations of light on mountains assume the role in the Arizona landscape that light on the sea takes on in Maine, and whereas Maine feels weighty and bold, the desert feels airy, delicate, and textural. I drew to see and to learn about these differences.

Saguaro National Park East

Santa Catalina Mountains

As I worked, the space I saw prompted changes in process. I began with familiar materials, toned page and charcoal, but gradually adapted to the landscape, shifting from dense areas of dark to more minimal marks.

March 5, 2016

March 7, 2016

Light areas seemed to dominate and description of space required fewer, less dense marks.

Via Raposa and Wasson Peak - March 14

Water soluble graphite

A piece of conte crayon taped to a stick, held at a distance from the paper insured less control and looser marks. 

Backyard Garden - March 12

Morning View Toward Tucson and the Santa Rita Mountains - March 15

Water soluble pencil - line and value. 

Moving through Autumn Landscape - Discovering Paintings

My landscape painting practice depends on regular outings, physically moving through space and absorbing the structure of the land and its visual qualities over an extended time. It helps my painting reflexes when my eyes and body have experienced the panoramic space, climbing over rocks, passing through shadows, and feeling the warmth of the sun.

Each fall a friend and I put aside a day, usually a Friday, for a hike or a day-long outing. We compare our schedules in September,  and "protect a day". Then we hope for good weather for what may be our final hike of the season.  In October we picked Mount Desert Island as our destination and decided on Parkman and Bald Mountains for our excursion. It was a cold morning and we wore layers that were gradually discarded, but were greatly needed at the windy summit. There was a mix of sun and clouds, and the mountains were covered with brilliant red growth along their ledges.

The hike was a challenge for me, but we were rewarded at the top by expansive panoramic views studded with moving shadows. We stopped often to enjoy the views and to question the location of certain landmarks. One of the joys of looking down on a region one knows is to to identify favorite places. 

That day has stuck with me, and my photographs provide resources for the paintings. The photos prompt memories of biting wind, blinding light reflected on the surface of the rocks and sea, fast moving clouds, and vibrant red, all of which fuel the painting process.

Bald Mountain 1 and 2, oil on canvas, 2015

Bald Mountain 3, 18x24, oil on linen, 2016

Bald Mountain 4 (in progress), 30x60, oil on canvas

                                               

Summer Bays - The Gallery View

Borestone, Looking North in October, 48x60

Exhibiting ones work offers surprises and rewards. Summer Bays opened at Elizabeth Moss Gallery on October 8. As I entered the gallery for the opening of the show, my large Borestone Mountain painting greeted and surprised me. Borestone 2 hung in the smaller adjacent gallery, contrasting with the cool hues of the summer coastal images. Both of these works with their warmer palette and larger scale, although not part of my current series, let me see the new work in a different light.

Double Beaches and Hicks Creek

One of the highlights of a show is seeing the work hanging together in a clean, well lit space. There are also new contexts that result from a different arrangement hung by an objective third party. The placement and rhythm of work on the gallery wall, creates new relationships that I may not have previously seen. I like the sequence and the movement between these familiar pieces.

Varied views of Great Spruce Head Island and Addison, Maine

Penobscot Bay from the South Meadow, 18x72, oil

Wahoa Bay and Marsh Island, Addison

Three morning kayak paintings from Great Spruce Head Island

As is always the case, once the paintings are up on the wall, they have been liberated from my painting process. They now exist on their own, paintings that I have made. I think about them in the past tense. It's a very strange feeling to know that while I was working on THAT PAINTING, it was all that occupied my mind, perhaps obsessively for days at a time, and now I have let it go. I stand back to see the paintings as they are now. I will never be completely objective about them, but with passing time, I will see them differently.

Four views Great Spruce Head Island

Dawn, Great Spruce Head Island, 24x30, oil

Drawing with Paint - New Paintings on Exhibit at Elizabeth Moss Gallery, October 8 - November 14

Thirty paintings will be on exhibit in Falmouth at Elizabeth Moss Gallery from October 8 - November 14, with an opening on October 8 from 5:00 to 7:00 PM. Addison landscapes will be paired with work inspired by a residency on Great Spruce Head Island in June. I'm always amazed by the variations in coastline characteristics in Maine and enjoyed discovering new spaces in Penobscot Bay. However, the approach to the landscape is similar in both subjects. My work has evolved toward a more immediate and direct approach with paint, a change from a slower process of transparent layers that I have used in the past.

I draw with paint. I make marks with paint to build the structure of the landscape through their color, direction, and contrast. At close range, one sees the marks and feels the path that my hand has taken across the canvas, building layers that allow previous marks to show beneath the surface. I believe in process, and avoid hiding the steps that I have previously taken beneath a polished surface.

Bickford Point Ledges, 18x24, oil on linen

Detail, Bickford Point Ledges

Witchwood Island, Wahoa Bay, 18x24, oil on linen

Detail, Witchwood Island, Wahoa Bay

In addition to surface, the marks and colors build the structure of a space that becomes more apparent from a distance. I often observe my paintings in a mirror behind me so that I can consider the development of the space as I work. Selective marks seek a balance between surface and space. 

Blowdown 1, 12x12, oil on canvas

Detail, Blowdown1

Sheep Island, Pleasant Bay, 18x24, oil on linen

Detail, Sheep Island, Pleasant Bay

Blowdown 2, 12x12, oil

Detail, Blowdown 2

Great Spruce Head Morning, 12x12, oil

Detail, Great Spruce Head Morning

Morning Paddle 2, Great Spruce Head Island, 24x30, oil

Detail, Morning Paddle 2

South Meadow Milkweed #3, 12x12, oil

Detail, South Meadow Milkweed, #3

Marsh Harbor, Pleasant Bay, 18x24, oil on linen

Detail, Marsh Harbor, Pleasant Bay

Summer Painting Retreat - Great Spruce Head Island

I had no expectations about visiting Great Spruce Head Island in June, except that it would provide me with a new coastal environment, a change after years of painting in Addison. The island, one mile long and one half mile wide, contains more than ten beaches, meadows, woods trails, cliffs, a garden and and cluster of houses, a small harbor, and magnificent Penobscot Bay vistas. During my stay I experienced the clinging dampness of rain and fog, as well as the clear space of sunny days. The change was constant, and the number of possibilities for painting seemed infinite.   I painted on the porches, outside in front of the house, at Landing Beach, Double Beaches, and in the woods. When I wasn’t painting I was walking, trying to absorb the complete sense of the space in the limited time that I had. It was exhilarating. The island and house, steeped in their visual history provided a springboard for all of us. The paintings became a record of my week, living and working in the space of this small island, and attempting to identify its unique sense of place.

I began twenty paintings while I was at Great Spruce Head and have been painting subjects from the island almost daily since I returned. My goal during the past year has been to work with strong, contrasting gestural marks that build the image like a drawing. The plein air experience provided many opportunities for that. These are some of the paintings that I have done.

The view from the house was hard to leave. I worked through several variations of weather and time of day. 

Toward Butter Island, 11x14

Morning Fog, Barred Islands, 11x14

Overcast Bay, 11x14

Early Morning Bay, 12x24

We had fog and rain at the beginning of our stay. When the sun returned, I borrowed a kayak to paddle along the shore in the early morning. These paintings were done in the studio when I returned home.

Great Spruce, Morning paddle 1, 24x30, oil

 Great Spruce, Morning Paddle 3, 24x30

 Great Spruce, Morning Paddle 2, 24x30

 Great Spruce, Morning Paddle 4, 24x30

After days of rain I crossed the island through the woods to experience the South Meadow. These paintings document my walk through the blueberries, grasses, and milkweed toward the view of the bay and Bear Island.

 South Meadow with Young Milkweed 1, 12x12

South Meadow with Young Milkweed 3, 12x12

South Meadow with Young Milkweed 2, 12x12

Everywhere, thickets of blowdown edged the woods trails. 

 Woods study 1, 12x12

 Woods Study 2, 12x12

Double Beaches at the end of the island was the site of four paintings one day, and I returned for walks on many other occasions.

 Morning at Double Beaches, 2

Morning at Double Beaches, 1

Afternoon Meadow from the Double Beaches, 11x14

Winter Painting Commission - The Process

The light and warmth of late summer accompanied me through the dark days of winter in the form of a 36 x 60 inch canvas, a commissioned painting of the view of a neighbor’s shore. As is often my practice, I tinted the canvas before laying in the composition, providing an immediate blast of heated color that needed to be subdued. 

I had thought about the space and composition a lot before beginning, so getting started and blocking in the image happened quickly. However, the process of wiping out and reapplying paint soon became the daily routine as I struggled to balance and unify this painting with its long rectangular shape – an unusual format for my work.

Each day that I work on a painting, I try to achieve a quality of unity within it, to integrate another layer of complexity throughout the entire work. I felt that the apple tree upset this unity, and modified the right corner to achieve a better balance.

During the months of January and February while eighty-four inches of snow fell and sub zero temperatures prevailed, I felt fortunate to have this cocoon of summer at the studio. I worked on other paintings, but this project dominated my time. Some of my paintings are like sketches in their immediacy, but this one, although gestural in its approach, developed gradually, acquired many layers of paint, and kept the process challenging. 

Wahoa Bay Evening, 36x60, oil on linen, 2015

Fall and Early Winter - 2014

Recently I've been working directly into the canvas with fewer transparent layers and thicker paint to capture the essence of the space with fewer details. I relate this gestural process to drawing with paint. I work until the painting feels resolved at some initial level, then leave it to be viewed during the next studio session. If satisfied with the initial effort, the painting is finished, but occasionally I edit with as few marks as possible. Paring down has been the theme of my work during the fall months.

Unfamiliar Territory at Turtle Gallery

Twenty of my paintings are on exhibit at Turtle Gallery from August 17 until September 6. The series, Unfamiliar Territory, was an opportunity to work with sense of place in other locations beyond Maine, developing new color palettes and exploring varied landscape structures.

Sonoran Desert, Valles Caldera, Luberon Valley, Tucson Shadows, each 11x14

Sonoran Desert, Valles Caldera  11x14

Luberon Valley, Tucson Shadows 1

Luberon Valley, Roussillon, Rice Paddies, Terraces

                                                             New Mexico Ridge, Stormy Sky and McClures Beach

Layers of Lyon, Shanghai Highways, Night in Shangai

High Road, Trucas and Snowing on the Catalinas, each 16x20

Working in Unfamiliar Territory

Unfamiliar Territory - Turtle Gallery, Deer Isle, August 17 to September 6

I moved to Maine in 1975 and initially explored varied painting subjects. Eventually, I was captivated by the landscape, and have been painting Maine spaces since 1979. Maine landscapes have taught me about light, color, and the forms of natural structures. They excel in imparting lessons about fleeting light and rugged contours. Their variations continue to capture my interest and have become my favorite visual resource.

That fascination carries over to other places that I visit. While traveling, the embedded triggers of light, layers of structure, color, and movement kick in at unexpected moments, when I notice, acknowledge, and document them with a camera. Eventually I begin to see unfamiliar spaces with the same eyes that see Maine, following the observation cues that have been developed by living and working here.

These paintings are selections from the series in which I have responded with paint to places that I have traveled. 

Shanghai Night, 11x14

Sabino Canyon, January, 11x14

Luberon Valley, Provence, 11x14

Sonoran Desert, Wasson Peak, 11x14

Unfamiliar Territory will be exhibited at Turtle Gallery in Deer Isle, Maine from August 17 to September 6.

Looking Back to 1985 - "Penobscot Construction"

I have been preparing for a presentation, looking through slides of paintings, and converting them to digital images. As I look back, I have been surprised to see how many ideas resurface, and have enjoyed following how they have morphed and shifted in each new series. It had been quite a while since I looked at the Penobscot Construction paintings, work that documented the development of Rt. 395 and the construction of the Veterans Memorial Bridge over the Penobscot River in 1987. Interest in roadways preceded and followed this work, and eventually resulted in paintings of aerial views of highways. When I look back, the persistence and continuity of ideas is both surprising and comforting. The Falls Road paintings (1979) led to Whiting Hill Construction (1984), which developed into a two year painting project, Penobscot Construction (1985-87). The idea of built structures interacting with natural forms was explored again in Penobscot Intersections, a six triptych public art project painted for the Penobscot Judicial Center in 2008-2011. My landscape interests have always alternated between natural and constructed, rural and urban. Years later it's satisfying to look back at one of their foundations . 

The Color of Evening at Elizabeth Moss Gallery

Nina Jerome Evening Landscape Paintings

I have worked for a year on this series of evening landscapes and will exhibit them from October 24 through November 30 at Elizabeth Moss Gallery, 251 US Route One, Falmouth, Maine (exit 10 off 295). The landscapes represent places within and surrounding Addison, Maine, a rural coastal village in Washington County where I spend the summer months.

Evening Statement

Evening signals an interval of harmony and announces the end of the day. Color relationships become saturated and complex, shadows lengthen, and their movement accelerates. During midday hours light seems suspended and unchanging, making it easier to deny that time is passing. Evening is different. Look away for a moment and gray has overtaken the landscape. As a result, it has become my habit to be present and to witness with intense awareness the quality and variation of light during the hours between five and eight. I want to delay the transition, and hoard the color, but that would be like holding breath.

There is an aesthetic and psychological challenge to observing evening light that is often accompanied with both wonder and sadness. Pay attention when the tide is high and reflects the red sky, when the water has ebbed and the mud becomes violet, and when the clouds, rocks and trees catch the last gold. Pay attention to discern that moment when the color has finally faded to gray, when light shifts from sun to moon, and when artificial light dominates our space. Once evening has passed I am resigned to the absence of the day’s light and reminded that time moves forward.

Nina Jerome

October 2013

Paintings of the Season - Summer Work

Since mid June I have been living and painting in Addison, Maine, developing a series of evening paintings for an October exhibit. As well as working in the studio, I have made frequent photo excursions into the fleeting evening light as it saturates familiar local landscape. I have always been attracted to the strong physical presence of evening, to the color, contrast, and muted, cool light that cues us to the end of the day's activity. In painting this series, I have been surprised and inspired by the limitless and unique variations of the quality of evening that occur throughout the summer season.  

As August comes to an end I'm working to finish the paintings I've started, and hoping there will be time for a few more. Here's a sample of my summer efforts.

Moonrise, Doyle and Burnt Islands, 24x24, oil on canvas

Low Tide, Wahoa Bay, 18x24, oil on linen

Sparrow Island in the Shadows, 24x36, oil on linen

Marsh Harbor Evening, 16x20, oil on linen

Sawyer Island from the Shadows, 12x12, oil on linen

Back Cove Evening, 24x30, oil on linen

Sparrow Island, Incoming Tide, 24x30, oil on linen

Moonrise, Long Cove, 16x20, oil on linen

.

Silent Spring, George Marshall Store Gallery

My paintings from two different series will be exhibited at this show at George Marshall Store Gallery in York, Maine. The show opens on Saturday, June 8, 5-7, and will run through July 14. The show was curated by Mary Harding and marks the fiftieth anniversary of the publication of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring.

PROCESS: One Painting - Seven Years of Change

In 2006 I painted a series of landscapes as seen from the kayak. I loved the reflections, low point of view and constantly shifting profile of the land seen from this position. I was out early and observed this island as the sun was rising. The light was soft, but the sky was dramatic.

I dragged this challenging painting through many stages in which I lost the light and color, strengthened the structure of the land, reintroduced the color, but lost the painterly quality of the previous surfaces. Eventually, I decided that I preferred the earlier stages of this painting, especially the first and third. The painting sat untouched for several years.

In 2008 I decided to move forward with an idea that I had been considering to superimpose text about issues of environment and climate over the surface of the painting by painting words into the image. Although the words created interesting spatial and surface qualities, I was not satisfied with their integration with the rest of the image.

I returned to the painting last summer (2012) with additional layers, reworking and attempting to resolve surfaces, strengthen forms, and unify the sky with the land. The prominent text was eventually subdued.

I reworked the painting again last month (April 2013), layering across the serene landscape handwritten text expressing my questions about the environment. Below is its present and final state. Many visual qualities that prompted the original painting were altered when the concept changed. Such is the process of painting.  

"Questions I Ask", 40x30, oil on canvas, 2013.

I delivered this and a group of other paintings to George Marshall Store in York, Maine. They will be exhibited in Silent Spring, The Enduring Legacy from June 8 until July 14. 

University of Maine Museum of Art, I-95 Triennial 2013

I will have two paintings from my "Land Marks" series in this exhibit. "Hudson River Passage" and "Descent into Newark" have been selected for this show that features artists from five New England states. The show runs from April 5 until June 8. 

Hudson River Passage, 24x18, oil on linen, 2011

Descent into Newark, 24x54, oil on linen, 2011