One Very Fine Week in Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

This is one of the paintings that will be in my upcoming art show. It’s not the best painting, in my opinion, nor is it the largest painting - by any means - yet it’s my favorite. And here’s why:

It was painted from a photograph one of my kids took of me on Little Corn Island in Nicaragua. Our youngest son D and his wife, A lived in Nicaragua. Son G and his wife M along with daughter D and I went down to visit. They hired a little plane to take us from the Pacific side of the country to the Caribbean side where we landed on Big Corn Island. From there we got on a Panga, it’s the biggest open boat I’ve ever seen, which seated about 40 people, and it carried us some 15 miles across to Little Corn Island.  Once we landed there we had to walk along the island’s edge on the west to the east side of the island where there were little cabins. There are no cars and no golf carts. The only way to get around on this island is to walk!! Its population is 7,400 English-speaking residents, and the place we stayed had a chef from the Culinary Institute of America. Every meal, including breakfast, was a gourmets treat. There were hammocks on the beach and hammocks on the porches of the little cabins. So very relaxing and a wonderful treat each day. I think of it as the best vacation I have ever had in my life. Loved it. Love the photo and especially love the painting! Come see it?

Barn Painting and Sailboat Racing

My last blog post was about what sailboat racers do when the wind stops. As I thought about it and some of the paintings in this show I could almost apply these same thoughts to creating paintings. I especially had a hard time with one of the paintings which I’ll share with you. 

This is a photo my nephew sent me of our family’s barn and granary. I know this scene well. It was taken from our house where I grow up. I drew the scene on the canvas and did a quick lay-in. I was very happy with it. On the next pass, I painted the granary and the foreground along with the road. I left the studio that day very happy with the direction this was going. The next day, I did the trees and a quick painting of the barn. Oops… the barn didn’t look right. I talked to some painter friends and they pointed out to me that my perspective on the barn of off. I tried to correct it and asked for help again. Still something was wrong. I painted it again using their advice and sent a photo to my brother. His answer back to me was “Your barn isn’t right!”

Back to the metaphor of sailing when the wind stops… awareness, preparation, possibilities, calling for help and so on. Yes, I was “sitting in the middle of Puget Sound” as it were… I had to go through the same process as those sailors have to do when the wind stopped them. I also know that in painting, sometimes you just have to let it “rest”… or maybe, it was me who needed the rest! A couple of weeks later, I mixed up some colors, painted the barn, stepped back, and called it done. Am I happy with the painting? Well, I liked the barn better as it was in the lay-in. Which is what you see in this image here. That was the best barn, in my opinion. Pretty darn good barn!! Very painterly and loose. But sometimes you just have to let it be as it is.

You will see this painting in the show and you can give me your opinion. Of course, the lay-in barn has been painted over several times. But perhaps you’ll remember this image when you come to my show. You’ll be there… right?

Sailing: A Metaphor for Life

I titled my upcoming art show “When the Wind Stops". When I told someone that was the name of my show they questioned me about this title and couldn’t see how sailing and painting related and why did I see that some sailboats in the middle of a body of water could represent life or painting, for that matter.

Here’s the photo that my friend, Elizabeth took during a sailboat race she was in. They were about halfway through the race when the wind just stopped. All the boats are sitting idle in the middle of Puget Sound with their sails all out. I asked her what they did when that happens!! She talked about awareness. They had to be aware of the most subtle signs, such as the small ripples as possibilities, making preparations for the wind to return, scanning the weather radios, checking radar. All these things went into making a decision as to whether they were going to wait it out, or call for help, or motor back to the yacht club. 

Haven’t we all had things happen in our lives that stopped us in our tracks, sent us wanting to hide under bed coverings, or to the doctor, or into a depression? Well, it’s really what we do with these same terms… awareness of possibilities, preparation, scanning or checking on things, isn’t it, that makes the difference? I’m using the boats stopped in the water with no wind blowing in as a metaphor for my life.

Hope you will come to my show and see my painting of this scene. Such a great photo!

On February 21 and 22, I Am Having a Solo Art Show Called: "When the Wind Stops"

In just over 3 weeks, I am having my first ever solo art show. I’ve titled it “When the Wind Stops”. As I was deciding what the show would be about, I decided to give myself a chance to examine the significant stages of my life. I described these stages to my support team and they thought each area was notable enough that a show could be built around them. I actually think of them as unique lives. I believe it’s common for us all to have distinctive segments to our lives, but often we don’t take the time to stop and examine them. Putting this show together was illuminating for me. Working on this project for the last year has given me an opportunity to look back over my own life in my oil paintings.

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We come into this world excited, learning, exploring and generally trying to find out why we’re here. So here’s my beginning: my childhood was spent on a farm, with loving parents and a Quaker background. This stability left me with the sense that I was prepared for life. The wind was at my back and I was ready to sail through life. 

It wasn’t until my family circle was broken and I lost both my daddy in 1966 and my little brother in 1967 that I first felt the wind stop.

I worked hard at getting my bearings and learning to navigate once more. (Although, I’m not sure I’ve gotten over these first losses even today.) Five years later the wind stopped again, this time with a divorce. As I thought I had done before, I adjusted my course and started anew, looking for the meaning of life that was mine. 

As I begin sailing again, I was letting the sails out with full speed ahead. I was winning the race; life was good. I had met and married the love of my life. I had found my true NORTH. Even as I naturally adjusted my course from time-to-time, things felt right. I was happy… we were happy... life was good.

As it is for most all of us, life handed us hard lessons. Tragedy came in two parts: First, 12 years into our marriage, my Love was diagnosed with cancer. Saying that the final years of his life were not easy would be a gross understatement. Slowly losing the joy of our happy life together required many adjustments in every area of our lives. Second, the ultimate death of my soulmate left me with the most lingering sense that this time, there was no adjusting the sails… because there was no wind.

The next few years forced me to look at all of life in a way I never had. To move forward and feel life was worth living again, I had to learn to make a major adjustment. I had to recreate “a life” from the ground up… that was ultimately when I found oil painting. I look back now and see that learning to paint was my gift from God. Yet the transition to living life as a painter was so slow that at times I thought it may never happen.

One day I realized I had found that reason to enter the race again and this time I had learned to sail again as a painter! Even as I raced forward within this new beloved artist’s life, starts and stops continued, as it always will in all of our lives, immersed in the human condition. There have been health issues, the loss of my mother, and other family needs that represent additional times the sails struggled to find that wind.

I have tried to turn these reflections into a tangible offering of this journey which was mine. I am very proud of the paintings I’ve been able to create over the past year. Sure, it’s only a reflection of a few of the points in my life. But they were meaningful points and together they reflect a life… my life. I hope you will come and enjoy them with me.