Long Island Maine

From the top:

• My daughter swimming at Sandy Beach. Seriously, she would swim for 6 hours a day, I kid you not. (Note: I took a lot of family pictures, but I'm not posting them here. If anyone asks, I will, but I try not to make a habit of publicizing too much personal stuff online.)

• Fowler's Beach with sun breaking through. Love the specular highlights on the dark water!

• Friday began with some super-dense fog. It made these rocks at Shark Cove look otherworldly. But, when it finally broke I painted...

• Vaill Island - oil on linen panel, 8" x 10". Vaill is the barrier island on the south side of Long Island. It allows Sandy Beach to stay sandy and not erode away to granite slabs.

Like now, the weather was wet at times, but we managed to get on the beach all 7 days, regardless. The house, "Captain's Quarters" was just off the Harbor of Grace, so water was a 3 minute walk. Most of the time we puttered around in our golf cart, which is the standard mode of transit on the island. It is customary to wave to everyone you see. They will wave back if they are Islanders or regular Island-goers.

What a relaxing time. My wife, the kids and I all recharged our batteries, and could have easily stayed another week. Next year, we will block 2 weeks out, if possible. As I'd said, the weather made painting a bit spotty, but I ended up coming away with something that I feel really captures the place. I also have a slew of photos, and some have the potential to be paintings themselves. It is not difficult to get back there on a weekend, as it's only a $10, 50-minute ferry ride. In fact, I'm sure the future holds some more Long Island Maine paintings from yours truly.

Still Sipping Summer

Chenin Blanc: Kettle Cove - oil on board 7.5" x 8.5"

Just got back this weekend from Long Island (Maine, NOT New York - which I still feel I have to clarify since I'm from the latter, originally) and it was just fantastic. Of course, we're thrust into real life right quick, and there's tons of stuff on various plates that we must spin like circus preformers. Nevertheless, the week away was well worth it: much wine was sipped beachside, and much swimming and relaxing did also commence. I will post more on it soon; I have a painting to scan. I tried for three, but rain and poor light caused two of them to flop. I nailed the third on our last full day, of course.

More soon. But, FYI:

AUGUST 1ST: FIRST FRIDAY ART WALK
AT STUDIO BEREHAVEN
5-8 PM

I hope to see you there! I can only be in attendance until 7:15 or so, then my lovely wife Danielle will be there to close. She is far prettier than me, so I'm happy to have her there in my stead.

Summer Skies

Castles and Blueberries - oil on panel, 18" x 31" (and a detail shot)

The above is a typical summer's day on Cameron Mountain which is on the back side of the Camden Hills State Park. Fittingly, this piece resides in a home on Mountain Street in Camden, just a few blocks from one of the park's trails. You'll notice the similarity to the painting in my heading, "Sheeta's Tree." That's because it's the same place, just a different angle. I did two separate studies for this blueberry field, and "Castles" was the one to get the larger treatment. I wish I had a picture of the study for this one, but I don't. It was sold way before I finished this large version. "Sheeta's Tree" was sold, as well, but I didn't end up enlarging it. Both studies were small, maybe 6" x 11" or something like that.

The opening went as well as one would expect when 50,000 people (did the Press Herald get that figure right?) were on the other end of town watching fireworks. I sold a print, had about a half dozen visitors, and polished off a bottle of wine with my friend Chris. It's fine - there will be a lot more First Fridays. And I really should have some kind of official "opening party," but perhaps that's unnecessarily grandiose.

I've been blogging less of late because, well - it's summer, and I'm outside a lot. I'm playing a lot of tennis (the team got a wild card to Districts in August, so I have to practice). I'm trying to get some painting done en plein air, though I got rained out three times! And I must mention, I'm spending time outdoors with the kids, who just thrive this time of year. Here in Maine, we must take advantage of these short but excellent summer months.

I will be taking another vacation soon (thank God - work is more teeth-grindingly tedious as of late), and part of any vacation of mine includes painting. The family and I will ferry out into Casco Bay to Long Island for a week. We're renting a lovely little house on the Harbor of Grace. I plan on gleaning three to four paintings from this trip. We'll be totally unplugged: no car, no computer, no shopping - just a beach on a quiet, vehicle-free island. This is certainly not as extreme or dramatic as the Utah trip, but I'm totally into this kind of getting away, too.

Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer!

Capitol Reef

Whoa, a LOT of pictures, sorry! Well, it's not just Capitol Reef, but the approach:
- The Gulch, from the beginning of the Burr Trail (a 4x4 road which is the southern approach to Capitol Reef and the Waterpocket Fold, stepping down through the Escalante Grand Staircase)
- The Henry Mountains, 11,000 footers standing alone out there in the Escalante)
- Compressed sandstone hills down in the Waterpocket Fold, near the Bitter Creek Divide (That's Mom's truck out in front. I took this with the phone while driving some pretty sketchy washboard)
- Rainbow from the Rim Rock Inn in Torrey, just north of the park. A thunderstorm followed us, and dumped snow at about 10,000 feet. The Henrys were white the next morning.
- Beginning of the Grand Wash Gorge. See those little holes on the bottom right? They're the entrance to old uranium mines, circa 1860. The cliff wall here is 1500 feet to the top, about 6700 feet above sea level.
- The open section of the Grand Wash Trail. There's a guy way back there in the middle of it, but he's too small to see, I think. I should post a high res closeup at some point, because he waved to me.
- The top of the cliffs from 2 pictures up. That's my foot. And that's 1500 feet straight down. That big boulder to the right is the size of a house, if you need more scale.
- Cassidy Arch from the Cassidy trail. Another mile to get there.
- Cassidy Arch. The bush to the left is only a foot shorter than me.
- Happy to be there, but there's no one to take my picture but me!
- My setup at the Reef.
- Finished! What a change in light!
- Capitol Reef, oil on linen panel, 6"x8"

It took most of the day just to get there, what with taking the Burr Trail and all. And, as I said, a storm was following the whole time - we were just ahead of it. Even though we could have taken a faster, paved route, I'm glad we went on the Trail, as I saw some fantastic ans sudden changes in geological forms all along the route. There were some pretty steep switchbacks down into the Waterpocket Fold, which provided for a serious 4x4 experience. The Blazer did fine, since I didn't plunge to my death or anything.

Once in the park, I scouted around for a painting site, while sightseeing at the same time. The big public campground was actually full (which seemed odd later on, for the following day I encountered NO ONE on the Cassidy Arch Trail), so we headed north out of the park to find the cheap but serviceable Rim Rock Inn, which had pretty awesome views of the Reef. That cold line of storms finally came across the Boulder Mountain escarpment to the west, so an inn was a fine way to go, I thought.

The next morning, I got an early start, and decided to mix it up by hiking first and painting afterward. Mom was taking her sweet time, so she told me to meet back at the visitor's center at 5:30 PM. I set my sights on Cassidy Arch, named for the outlaw Butch Cassidy, who holed up in the impregnable Reef from time to time with his gang. The trail itself starts along with the Grand Wash Gorge trail, but veers off and ascends pretty steeply for almost a mile. It was tough, but I enjoyed the workout, as the views got ever more spectacular as I ascended. I saw that I was making good time, so I veered off to find the cliffs one sees as you drive into the wash. I eventually found the dropoff, as you see above. I then backtracked to the Arch, and it's amazing how it comes up suddenly - a big hole in the slickrock. You could fly a good sized plane into it from the front. After hanging around the top for a bit, I literally ran down the trail, which was a fun reward after having slogged up in the dry heat. I had a lunch of jerky and cheese at the trailhead, and drove back out to the Scenic Road to a turnoff I had earmarked for my painting site.

Well, the view was great, but unlike the previous day, the wind had shifted and was now blowing down the Reef from the north at a good, steady 20 miles an hour, with at least 30 MPH gusts - right in my face. Great. I gathered some beefy boulders and fortified my tripod. It wouldn't budge, so I felt pretty confident. However, I was literally pushed away from the painting countless times, and I was covered in pink dust, a real desert rat. Fortunately, the painting wasn't exposed, so it fared well. I came away after 3 hours with a decent study. A full and fun day, to be sure!

I met up with Mom, and we drove a much more direct rout back to Beaver. Again, the landscape, the rolling sagegrass hills, the mountians, and even the cattle towns charmed me with their distinct beauty. The 2 1/2 hour trek passed in an instant.

Once back at Mom's house, I relaxed with a few drinks, sat on the porch, and looked at the mountains in the last light of that day. I had one full day of reorganizing and ease before the next big early morning drive back to Vegas and then the long flight home.

The trip was definitely a success. I got 3 good paintings out of it, I hiked alpine, canyon and slickrock, and I finally understood why everyone who has been to the monuments of the West urged me to see it for myself. I urge you, too, if you've never been. Imagine never having seen the ocean, and then suddenly you're at Acadia National Park. It's that dramatic. I don't think I could ever live there, but I am aching to go back, for it is now a part of me since I painted there. It really did affect me, I can't deny it. I think this is an excellent thing.

Thanks for reading. More news from the studio, and plein air in Maine - soon!

Bryce Canyon

From the top:
- Bryce Point
- Closeup of a hoodoo (this one is called "the Hunter")
- A raven at Agua Canyon
- A castle descending into Fairyland Canyon
- Boat Mesa, the Chinese Wall, and a thunderstorm (!)
- My setup at Fairyland
- Finally done!
- Fairyland Hoodoos, oil on linen panel, 8" x 10"

These pictures are a little out of sequence, as I hiked the 8 mile Fairyland Loop Trail after I finished the painting.

What an amazing place Bryce Canyon is! There are a dozen turnoff points along the main road into the park, and they are easily accessible, not to mention totally different from one another. At its highest, the rim is 9500 feet at Rainbow Point. The canyon is also known as "The Pink Cliffs" and is the highest "step" in the Escalante Grand Staircase. From Yovimpa Point in the park, one can look out to the White, Vermillion and Gray cliffs, stepping down ultimately to the Grand Canyon. It is a vast and varied landscape.

The crazy spires in all sorts of colors and shapes are called hoodoos. Some are shaped like statuary, others are more like giant rock crystals. Everywhere you turn you see something new and interesting. It's best if you hike down into the canyon to see the real scale of things, though. I chose the first turnoff, Fairyland Canyon (about a mile off the main park road) for both my hike and my painting.

I must admit, the painting kicked my butt somewhat, as the colors were so intense and varied. It was a bit difficult to not only get ahold of the new and crazy shapes, but also the saturation and hue shifts, not to mention getting atmospheric perspective into all of it. I went away half done on the first day, and went back to the campground where Mom and I set up our "car camp." She had been over at Sunrise Point looking around. She saw I was frustrated, so she suggested staying an extra day to finish. Fortunately, the conditions the next day were exactly the same, and I finished up at 2 PM. I was happy, as this was a tough subject!

After a quick bite, and getting my stuff stowed, I hiked down into Fairyland Canyon. It was wonderful and strange and breathtaking. The latter was doubly true, as I decided on a whim to do the whole loop trail. There's an elevation loss/gain of 2300 feet. At altitude, it was a bit tougher than it seemed. In my picture of Boat Mesa (above), you can see the thunderhead coming over. No sooner did I snap that photo when lightning struck the mesa. As you can see in the picture, I was pretty exposed. I wrapped up the camera and slid down into a gully, and camped beneath a hoodoo cave. It was time for a snack, anyway. I got my rain jacket on, and when the rain started slowly, I pushed on, only to find that it started snowing! Huge, chunky slush flakes noisily hit my jacket. I had to laugh - this was really strange! Then is shifted back to a light and steady rain which I knew would abate, as I could see clearing in the distance. When I crested the rim at Sunset Point, I had to hike 2 miles back along the rim to get to Fairyland Point where I had parked. This section was easy and bucolic. The best part of this end of the trail was when I descended a bit into a field and this gorgeous aroma hit me. It was the rain evaporating off the sagegrass. What a wonderful smell! I won't forget that for a long time.

So, it was back to camp after 2 days in Bryce, and we feasted on freeze dried dinners, Wasatch Brewing Company beers, and a celebratory Camaguey cigar I had brought with me from home. I was ready for the next drive down the Escalante to Capitol Reef! To be continued....

The Tushar Mountains

From the top:
- Mt. Belknap and Mt. Baldy from downtown Beaver
- Little Res (reservoir)
- Robber's Roost
- Delano Peak, Mt. Holly and Lake Peak from Puffer Lake, frozen at 10,000 feet.
- Finished painting at 3 PM
- Mt. Holly in Spring, oil on linen panel, 6" x 8"

After a decent flight, I arrived in Vegas at about noon. There was a bit of trouble with the rental car, but I was able to get into a Trailblazer (a 4x4, but like most big American cars, the steering, acceleration, and brakes were mushy) and hit I-15 for a 250 mile drive north to Beaver.

The desert just blew me away with vast, hardpan emptiness. It looks so very neutral, yet I knew it was ripe with strange life and the possibility of stranger death. Just over the Arizona border, the highway leads to a mass of cliffs, and suddenly one drives into the deep cleft of the Virgin River Canyon, providing a fantastically radical change of scenery after the desert. Then, once past St. George, Utah, the canyons and red tumbles of rock become more structured, raising up into peaks and valleys, with the latter becoming verdant with cultivated horse and cattle ranches. Then the peaks to the east rise above the snow line and become the Tushar Range. To the west are the smaller, but far more jagged Mineral Mountains. The valley is quite wide and Beaver appears on the east side of the highway.

Being such an Easterner, the town's layout seemed a bit alien to me, what with ramshackle horse paddocks mixed in with the typical Main Street of post office and pharmacy. Regardless, my mom's place lay northeast of town, about 4 miles up a rise, past larger ranches, nestled in a hill of pinyon pine. Just outside of town, I pulled over to get an overview shot of the wonderful expanse of clouds and mountains (above). A herd of a dozen rather large mule deer greeted me on the way up the North Creek Loop Road, giving me a bit of pause at their lack of care by the roadside.

Mom and her husband, Paul, live in a real, hardwood log cabin. It's older as far as log cabins go, and it is the most solidly built one I've seen. The view from the porch is basically a closeup of Belknap and Baldy, with hints of Delano Peak and some other heights in the range. Seeing the snow all across these 12, 000 footers, I knew the going up there was not to be for my amateur hiker aspirations, but I felt compelled to see them closer and perhaps pull a painting out of the alpine air. Route 153 out of Beaver goes up through a pass, and one can get fairly close, but the pass itself is cordoned off until at least June, due to the snows above 10K.

The following morning, with Mom as guide, we took my vehicle up to Puffer Lake, the last view available before the road closure. On the way up, there were more than enough wonderful sights. The Beaver River comes down in a sparkling rush this time of year, and it is harnessed by some well-engineered pipes in sections, and brought down to the ranches in the valley. There is also a series of alpine reservoirs, the most cozy of which is the "Little Res" (above), where one might cast for trout, though I saw an osprey there who would no doubt find such competition unwelcome. Once you hit 8,500 feet, some switchbacks begin, and wonderful formations like Robber's Roost (above) can be seen from the turnoffs. The snow was now earnestly deep as we neared the old ski area (now defunct) near Mt. Holly. Before the road ascends once more, a barrier ends our climb.

Puffer Lake is barely thawing about the edges, and from its western end, one looks straight up at the pointed peak of Mt. Holly, with Delano Peak behind and to the left, Lake Peak to the right, and City Creek Mountain to the right of that. The snow was crystalline, and hard-packed enough to support our weight as we tracked across to the spot I thought would be best for painting. Well, I did fall through to my waist in one or two spots, but future cave-ins were avoidable once I understood how to read the snow surface for telltale anomalies (a change in surface patterns due to spaces between buried boulders).

I set up and began painting at noon and finished at 3. Mom hung around, watching, as she had never seen anyone, let alone her son, paint en plein air before. I struggled a little bit with getting the curvature of the descending Aspens and Douglas Firs, but in the end, I began to read the landscape. Fortunately, the palette was pretty similar to a Maine maritime palette, so I didn't have to read into color too deeply. In all, I felt good about the work. So, while Mom ate a sandwich and rested in the truck, I hiked up into the woods past the lake, though it was slow going, picking my way over the snow. After an hour, I returned, and felt it would be more fun to hike over more stable ground.

We went back to the house, and my mom had to run errand in town, so I drove about a mile up the road to a place where I thought I could tackle Rattlesnake Mountain, an 8000 foot mound, a foothill to the Tushar proper (you can see it in the far right of the first photo). I did enjoy the hike immensely, though there were no discernable paths, and I began to run out of light before I could summit. At this point, I was rather hungry, and felt I deserved a beer or two after a successful painting day.

And anyway, I needed to rest up, because the following morning we were to head out early to Bryce Canyon. So... to be continued!

Well, I'm Back

Wow. What an incredible time! You can see by my face above that I was very happy to be in Bryce Canyon that day! As it turns out, my itinerary changed from my original plans (which weren't altogether solid, anyway). I ended up painting in the Tushar range, then at Bryce, then at Capitol Reef. My hiking took place in the lower parts of the Tushars (there was a lot of snow above 10,000 feet), Fairyland Canyon at Bryce, and the Cassidy Arch Trail at Capitol Reef.

I shot over 150 pictures, and I will sort through for the best shots to post here. My paintings just arrived back home via FedEx today, so I will get those scanned ASAP and post them. There's a lot to talk about regarding this trip, and at the moment, I cannot get into it as far as I'd like. And anyway, I plan to split up the entries into a couple/three parts, focusing on the three separate places where I concentrated my energies.

I would return in a heartbeat. I barely scratched the surface of what's out there. Just amazing...