When scouting inspiration in rural areas of New Hampshire and Vermont, I look for interesting scenes where architecture and landscape seem to coexist naturally. The barns, sheds and outbuildings built decades ago, now often abandoned, sit naturally where they have for years. They seem to be an almost organic part of the landscape, but have a definite presence that reinforces the sense that they are just temporary visitors. “Presence” 54 x 48
Martha’s vineyard is divided by two unofficial designations…up Island and down Island. Chilmark, Aquinnah being two of several Up Island towns, Tisbury, Edgartown and Oak Bluffs being Down Island. Whether up or down, the entire island is rich with old farms, many maintained to preserve how they looked hundred or so years ago. This piece is based on one such farm, one that I used to pass every day on my drive from up Island to down. “Down Island” 40 x 30
For three years, I lived on Martha’s Vineyard, year round. In any season, inspiration was unlimited, as the Island is one of the most scenic pieces of land you could discover. And as you would expect of any Island on the New England coast, lighthouses are plenty. I’ve painted the lighthouse at East Chop, West Chop, Edgartown, but never painted the most iconic of all the Vineyard’s lights…the Gay Head light, in Aquinnah. A few years back, it was rescued from the edge of the famous clay cliffs, and a documentary on that process brought back memories of having lived in Aquinnah (the westernmost point of the Island, called Gay Head when I lived there). The town is perhaps one of the most visited tourist locations, as the historic (and protected) clay cliffs are a geological marvel. Though you can’t see them in this piece, they erode like any coastal area, and that process put the light at risk. Moved back, and now secure, the light is safe for (they say) quite a few years. “Above the Cliffs” 36 x 36
When I lived on Martha’s Vineyard…a truly magical island in many ways…one of the greatest, and most magical, annual events was Illumination Night at the Camp Meeting Grounds in Oak Bluffs. If you haven’t seen it, you should, as it’s otherworldly. The small Victorian cottages that line the great circle around the Tabernacle cover almost every square inch of wall and porch with paper lanterns, of all colors. While finishing this piece, the light hitting the right side of the barn, as well as the overall varied color palette, reminded me of this annual event. “Illumination” 40 x 30
Most of our roads in rural New England are expanses of pavement that cover what had always been dirt or gravel lanes, created by cart, carriage, and then car. The deeper you go into the country, the less the roads are paved, and the more they remain as they have for decades. Came across this location while up in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire recently, and while the road is now paved, you could sense the existence of its unpaved ancestor beneath. “North Road” 24 x 24
There’s an old expanse of land along Cape Cod Bay, in Brewster, that was once part of an old Cape farm, but is now a public park. A reproduction windmill is a central focal point of the property, and serves as a backdrop to the farmers markets that are often held here. But further back, hugging the woods that separate the park from the marsh that connect land to the bay, is a small barn structure. It might technically be a shed, as it’s fairly small, but in the sparse landscape of this large, open meadow, it suggests the former purpose of this place, back when the Cape was home to farmers and fisherman. “Farmland” 36 x 36
The remnants of Hurricane Elsa and her storm winds whipped the Cape this weekend, but spared us of any considerable damage. Homes on the beach, or up on bluffs, were spared, though the wind would have continued to shift the dunes, which constantly move, storm or not. The stretches of fencing that crisscross dunes and beaches help redirect a shifting dune, but can never stop it from moving. This little place, that sits right on Nantucket Sound, was on the front line of the coastal winds, armed only with a small stretch of weathered fence. “Storm Fence” 16 x 16
This July 4th weekend has been a cool and rainy one down here on the Cape. But despite the weather, quite a few committed visitors and renters put down towels and umbrellas out on our towns’ beaches, undeterred. Similarly, the homes that line the shores of the bay and sound sides are all occupied and alive with summer activities. This old summer cottage, that hugs a bluff that gets a few inches closer each year, has seen decades of July 4th weekends, and does so without regard for the weather. “July” 24 x 24.
Once you get off the main roads and highways that connect the towns of Cape Cod, the bustle of activity (especially during the summer), dissipates, the quiet tranquility of the peninsula reveals itself. You just need to get lost to find it. “Cape Road” 40 x 30.
Color in nature tends to default to what we see most often. Grass is green. Skies are blue. While true, there are variations in those color that are visible if you look close enough, or at the right time of day, and in different light. On a recent morning drive through the local countryside, I came across an expanse of meadow grass that glowed a pale blue in the morning mist. It wasn’t green, nor was it solid blue, but somewhere in between. “Bluegrass” 34 x 20
