Heading East
10x10
I'm home now, and I'm glad to be here. It's great to be home, to be with my husband and our dogs, to see my friends and my hometown, sleep in my own bed, eat home-cooked food, be grounded again. The trip brought me to places I loved, and to which my soul responded. It brought me to a new level of painting. It filled me with joy and excitement, adventure and accomplishment. And it left me exhausted and depleted.
But I have slept and rested and slept some more. I've snuggled and been coddled and been given the best of welcomes. By now, the van is mostly unloaded, and the paintings are in the studio (there's a photo below of all the small ones, and a few of the larger ones). I've made a larger painting from the one just below, Near Manhattan. I'm scheduled to paint on site on Wednesday with the Eastern Shore Art League.
So life is picking up again, the rhythms re-establishing, the breath of life here on the shore going in and out like the tide, like the wind, like the seasons.
I'm glad to be here, and I need to be here, but I miss the West, the huge skies, the tantalizing colors, the thrill and pull of standing, small and insignificant in that monumental landscape and painting all day, until I couldn't make one more stroke, one more blend of colors, one more rich swipe at the canvas.
It came to me that in that landscape, with the views that stretch forever, and the sky that seems impossibly large, and the hills and folds and wrinkles in the earth that seem to have been there since time immemorial, in that vast and open landscape, life itself seems infinite. Though I feel like a speck of dust in the enormity of this land, I also feel invincible, connected truly and strongly to something eternal, a voice that calls deep into my soul, and expects an eternal answer. And my soul does answer, singing its heart's song, true and free, in echo and response.
Near Manhattan, MT
10x10
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Montana Autumn Stream, 18x36
This is one of the larger pieces. Made it near Dillon, Montana.
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The railroad apparently chose to put a town at Dillon's location because it made sense in terms of shipping gold from the mines. The rush began in 1862 and lasted into the 1930s. There are cattle a plenty in the area, and at one point, Dillon was a major exporter of sheep. Forbes magazine named it one of America's prettiest towns in 2010. I don't know that I'd go that far, but it is a nice-looking place, with wide streets and some lovely homes and commercial buildings.
If you make the above photo larger (and sorry for the tilt, it's one of the ones that I can't seem to straighten. Iphoto shows it straight inside the program, but when I export it, it ends up tilted again. Sorry! ) But... Below the "Welcome to Dillon" sign, and around the tipped scales of justice are the words ""Unfair City Government."
I just had to find out. So at 9:20 in the morning, I went into the bar and found it dismayingly full (below). I talked to Beverly, above, who explained that her husband John, who owns the bar, had wanted a lighted sign on the building. She said he went to city hall to get a permit, and was told they weren't allowing any more.
A few months later, McDonald's came to town, and got the same kind of sign John said he'd been denied. He went back to city hall and says he was told that McDonald's had slipped through the cracks and it was too bad, but he couldn't have his sign. So he had the wall of his bar painted, and Beverly says she thinks it was worth every penny of the $850 it cost.
I've been sober for almost 30 years by now. I wanted to jump up on the bar and tell these people to wise up and quit drinking before it was too late. But I didn't. I just said a little prayer of gratitude and got the heck out of there.
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All in One Place
Well, all of the 10x10s, and a few of the larger ones. I think it's exciting!
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Dog of the Day
It's Phillip, Dillon's town mascot!
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