Back Where I Started

Maine said goodbye in the same way it greeted me in May: With rain and mist and a sigh.

But before that, things were a blur of activity. Some teaching, some drawing, some socializing.

Rockweed, leaf, and crab carapace

What's Maine without lobsters?

Blueberry, beard lichen, plant life

View from the Queen Mary deck

I've been back in Colorado for a couple of days now, but am finding the transition a little bumpy. I've had to hit the ground running-- shipping sold work, framing and ordering frames for upcoming shows, plowing through three months of mail and bookkeeping. My internet service was reinstalled this morning... and slowly but surely I'm finding my feet again.

Evening comes to Hog Island

I'm anxious to get back to work on linos... in fact it's imperative that I do so soon. I'm scheduled to give a demo at the Woodson Art Museum's "Birds in Art" exhibition in less than two weeks and I have nothing started. Eek. Tomorrow will be one more day of "other stuff," but Monday it's back to the studio! Hooray!

Still, it's hard to listen to the sounds of town and remember that for the last three months I've had seabirds, loons, waves, and boats as my background soundtrack. But as Dr. Seuss said, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." And I've got a lot to smile about.

One more sunset from the island

Fieldwork...umm... Wednesday?

It's Tuesday evening here in Muscongus Bay. I'm still on Hog Island, where Family Camp began this evening in a deluge. We have big rain forecast all night, so I battened down the hatches at the Cottage and came in to camp. Everything is quite snug out there, but I'm on deck to teach a workshop in camp tomorrow and depending on the weather it might happen first thing in the morning. It seemed prudent to spend the night here rather than start my day hoofing it in through rain and mud.

I've been finding a rhythm out in my little cabin in the woods. Sketches are being made, albeit slowly and without much focus. It's been a long time since I let myself draw any old thing that appealed to me, so here's a peek at what's been catching my eye.

Beach pea and driftwood on the rocks below the Cottages

A chicken skeleton in the bio lab

Crab leg twelve ways. (Embiggenable with a click)

View across Porthole Cove to the Helm cabin.

Mayflower, starflower, and something I don't know. Also embiggenable.

Red spruce

Suddenly my entire summer away from Colorado is almost over. Hard to believe I've been away since May, and harder yet to think of leaving the island in just two weeks. It's been a great adventure and I am not at all ready for it to end.

Shifting gears... again

The Writer's Cottage at the Bingham Cottage residency, Hog Island, Maine

August. Hard to believe that I left Colorado in May and am still away. I've changed hats yet again... from Program Manager to Euro-traveler to Instructor... and now Artist-in-Residence.

I'm still on Hog Island, but I've moved from the camp peninsula on to the main part of the island. I've made my own camp in two historic buildings, known jointly as the Bingham Cottages.

Millicent Todd Bingham gave Hog Island to the National Audubon Society in 1936, naming the Todd Wildlife Sanctuary for her mother and establishing the camp's mission as a teaching facility. What we today call "the Binghams" are the last two remaining buildings of the original 8 that were the summer compound of Millicent's parents, David Todd and Mabel Loomis Todd. Mabel's story is long and complex (and a bit scandalous), but she is probably best known as the woman who first edited and brought to publication the poetry of Emily Dickinson.

The cottages were restored in 2012 through the efforts of the Friends of Hog Island volunteer association. In 2014 both a writer and a playwright spent time working in these cottages, and the Bingham Cottage Artist Residency program came to an informal start.

Part of my tenure here is to help formalize the residency program, which we hope to launch and  begin taking applications for this fall. I'm staying in the cottages with one eye to potential residents who won't necessarily already have a connection to this place and its wonders (or quirks). A sort of shakedown cruise to iron out the wrinkles. If you're in to mixed metaphors. Which apparently I am.

The Main Lodge porch

Main Lodge interior. Photos of the interior as it looked during the
early 1900s are on the wall in the back.

The cottages are "rustic," which means no water and no power. Well... there's a small solar panel which provides enough juice to power a laptop or cell phone and a small light in the Lodge, but the Writer's cabin is strictly off-off grid. And yes, there's an outhouse.

But I have my own beach (when the tide is out), my own red squirrels, and from time to time my own bald eagles perched in the "yard."

What I don't have is a lot of success yet with drawing. Mostly I keep trying to tackle things that are entirely too ambitious, too complex. When I sit down and draw the things I've been carting around in my pockets, no problem. But what I love most about this landscape is the intricacies of ferns and mosses and the ridiculous shades of green. When it comes to drawing, this landscape does NOT love me back.

Seed cones of white pine and red spruce, spruce branch with lichen

At least not yet.

Remains of an old rock wall

Of course part of the "problem" is that I've set myself up to try to accomplish entirely too many things while I'm here. The project I arrived wanting to do has already morphed into something else. And there's the residency to hash out. And some interp displays to get started on. And a couple of little sessions to do at Family Camp next week. And of course there's still a social schedule. ;-) So I'm constantly distracted. And while I'm seeing a zillion potential linocuts, that's not what I thought I would be doing, so of course I didn't outfit myself for it. Ah, well. I'll figure it out.

Until then, I'm enjoying many beautiful sunsets (doesn't this look like a good potential lino to you?) and the companionship of waves and seabirds. Not a bad way to spend my time.

There and back again... and again.

Um, yes. Life has been a bit surreal lately. And if you read this entire post, your life may take on a strange aspect, too... since this will be a longish narrative. But there will be nice photos, I promise.

Hey, that's me! Sketching ancient rocks in a French meadow.

After a week in the Netherlands I traveled to France, first to visit friend and colleague Jean-Louis Verdier and his wife Dominique. It was great to see more of Jean-Louis' work, which has run the gamut of science and science fiction illustration. I was most familiar with Jean-Louis' insect paintings... sometimes enormous, and always intricately observed.

Jean-Louis is also one of that interesting breed of Frenchmen who is (and I say this without exaggeration) mad about American "old time" music. He has an amazing collection of antique banjos and mandolins, and was kind enough to indulge my request for a private concert. (You can watch a Sigrove Stompers video here.)

 

Together we visited the Jardin des Sens in Coutières. It's a special place, not only for its lovely gardens, but also because it filters water for the entire community through a "natural" system.

From the countryside around Fomperron I traveled to the coast of Bretagne, wherein I made my one and only train mistake (and I rode a lot of trains). I missed my stop and ended up at the end of the line on the last train of the day. With much gesticulating I was finally able to convince the Chef du Gare to call my friend Denis ("Oui, he speaks French"), who was waiting in the place I was supposed to be. I felt a bit foolish, obliging Denis to drive further to retrieve me, but in the end it turned out to be a good mistake. We drove through the marais salants as the sun set, watching the paludier at work and getting to see marsh owls and baby avocets.

The trip to Mesquer was the impetus for the entire trip. Not the grand art or great food of the Continent, but a birthday party under a big tree in a garden by the sea.

It was so great to spend time with friends old and new, including a few I hadn't seen in 16 years. (!!!) The birthday boy, Denis Clavreul, and mutual friend Robin D'Arcy Shillcock (both outstanding artists, of course) have been my friends, colleagues, and confidants for almost 25 years. Our in-the-flesh meetings are infrequent and all-too-brief... but each time we pick up as though no time has passed and sharing a table is the most natural thing in the world. Which it is.

Dunes and beach at Mesquer, France

But with a blink it was over and I was in motion again, first to spend a day in Rotterdam with my dear friend Nicky and then overnight in Amsterdam for my flight back to the States. In Rotterdam Nicky and I visited the new grand Markthal... an astounding indoor market building. (With apartments all around the top and sides.) I didn't take photos of the exterior (you can see plenty if you follow the link), but here's a panorama of the interior. (That's Nicky looking at the interp display in the lower right.)

Markthal Rotterdam - click to embiggen

One of many cool things about this building is that it has interpretive displays! During the excavation  for three levels of underground parking they uncovered many layers of Dutch historical artifacts. The escalator to the parking levels is itself an exhibit... a timeline of Rotterdam history as you travel up and down.

Markthal escalator with timeline.

At each level's landing there is a door to the parking garage, and just outside the door is an exhibit of artifacts discovered during the construction.

It's fascinating stuff, and really thoughtfully done. (In both Dutch and English, if you're wondering.)

After the Markthal we stopped in the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, which has fantastic collections of old masters and modern oddities. I spent a lot of time in the print room, which rotates its displays of work on paper every few months. One can also sit on the bench and access the collection digitally to check out works that are not currently on exhibit. (Images are projected on the wall opposite the bench.)

Nicky returned home to Hardenberg and I found my way to Amsterdam and my hotel. The next day I flew to Boston (via Detroit, if you can believe it). I spent two nights at the Mass Audubon Museum of American Bird Art in Canton, where I had a chance to view an exhibition of watercolors by Don Eckelberry and to lead a couple of printmaking activities with children at the Museum's summer camp program.

From there it was back to Maine and Hog Island. Yes, it was one of those cliché weeks: Monday France, Tuesday Netherlands, Wednesday Travel, Thursday Boston, Friday Maine. It's now a week later and we have just wrapped up five days of programming for Educators' camp.

On Monday the next adventure begins, as I move out to the Bingham cottages and take up my role as Artist-in-Residence.

It's overcast and cool here today, and fairly quiet. All of the campers and most of the staff have gone back out into the world and those of us who remain are enjoying a more leisurely pace... catching up with email and laundry (and blog posts). Thank you all for indulging the travelog the past few weeks... I'm hoping to share some island field work soon!

View from.... The OTHER coast

It's been about a week since I left Maine and traveled first to Boston and then on to Amsterdam. From Amsterdam it was a series of trains and one bus to reach the neighborhood of my dear friend here in Hardenberg, but I arrived without incident.

And it was HOT! The Netherlands have been experiencing a record heatwave, just in time for my visit. It was at least 97 F here, and humid of course. Despite a month in the damp Maine coastal environment, this arid-country girl was melting.


But life goes on even when you're drowning in your own sweat, so when in Netherlands do as the Dutch and get on your bicycle.


With friend Nicky's guidance I quickly became master of the Dutch train system. Okay, maybe not master, but at least I'm not completely hopeless. Chipkaart in hand and bicycle at the ready I managed to find my way to visit artist friends in several different areas of the country, including sculptor Jaap te Kiefte. Since the last time I visited Jaap had completed and installed a commissioned portrait of the writer Simon Vestdÿk in the city of Doorn. A nice extra: there is a "secret" place on the sculpture which serves as a kind of geocache, where visitors quietly exchange one of Vestdÿk's many books for another.


It stays light here for a long time in the evenings, and it's easy to lose track of the hour. On one of my forays I found myself getting off the train in Hardenberg at almost 11:00pm. Cycling home from the station in the dark and quiet with my scarf blowing behind me is a memory that will stay with me a long time... Especially the part where I crossed over the river and had my reverie interrupted by a cloud of gnats. So much for idyllic moments.




Tomorrow the next chapter begins, as I travel to France to visit more friends there. It's a lot of moving about in a short amount of time, but I am determined to take every opportunity to connect (and reconnect) with people I don't get to see very often- To engage in conversations about art and the artist's journey, to drink wine and eat bread, to laugh, to learn about ourselves and each other. To be surprised by the things we have in common and the things we don't. Trying to sort out unfamiliar bird song and eating stroopwafels is icing on the cake.

Travel for me is not about sightseeing, it's about becoming a "bigger," better person. As Mark Twain said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.... Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."

Amen.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:The Netherlands

View from the coast #4: Triumph, tragedy, more travel, and even a drawing or two.

Unbelievable. Four weeks gone, just like that. We said goodbye to our fourth session of campers on Friday afternoon and have slowly been transitioning to two weeks without the flat-out pace we've been accustomed to.

I even took time to join the bees in admiration of the rose bush in the middle of camp.

Before our campers left we celebrated International Guillemot Appreciation Day. I bet you didn't even know that such a day existed. It does! And you should definitely celebrate it next year, because after all... it's not ALL about puffins. Mark your calendars now: June 27.

FOHI (Friends of Hog Island) volunteer Betsy adorns boots with red guillemot
feet for the IGAD celebration.

At breakfast our festively decorated (white, black, and red, of course) dining hall
was the site of a dramatic reading of "A Visit from the Guillemots."
That's me in recitation mode.

It's always hard to say goodbye at the end of a session, but our own Eastern Egg Rock-ettes help to ease the separation anxiety as campers get on the boat for departure.

All this silliness was unfortunately followed by solemnity and disappointment. Right in the middle of camp is an active osprey nest, the residents of which are internet superstars. (Hog Island osprey cam) Two osprey chicks hatched during the second camp session, but even here in paradise life can be dangerous. Last week a bald eagle started rushing the nest, but was driven off each time by the osprey parents. Unfortunately, on Friday afternoon the eagle succeeded in snatching both nestlings, to the shock and dismay of online nest-watchers worldwide. If you think you're up for watching the clip of the raid, you can find it here, with commentary by Dr. Steve Kress.

But now I turn my attention from seabirds and Maine, because tomorrow I'll be headed to the other side of the Atlantic. For the next two weeks I'll be visiting friends and colleagues in the Netherlands and France, returning to Maine midway through July. In preparation for that different mindset I took a little time to make a couple of sketchbook drawings of specimens in our camp bio lab. I felt a little rusty, but it was good to move pencil across paper for while.

Snowy owl skull.

Woody, twisted stick collected from the Bahamas.

Not sure if I'll be able to post anything from Europe while I'm away. Last time I was able to do a bit via my phone, but no promises! In the meantime... try to imagine either of these sketches as part of a future linocut and let me know what you come up with. ;-)

View from the Coast #3: Birds and boats

Woohoo! Week three is almost over! Time is zooming, as I knew it would.

But I'm finally getting to the point of having a few hours here and there to do something other than wrangling campers and their paperwork. Last weekend I went to New Harbor with friend and colleague "Puffin Pete" who is, among other things, the narrator on Hardy boat Puffin Watch tours. I tagged along on a trip out to Eastern Egg Rock, where I took a bunch of rotten photos in the rain but still had a great time being out on the bay.

Rainy evening leaving New Harbor

The next day our new camp session started, so things went back to their "usual" busy pace. We've a full house this week: 44 adult and 16 teen participants, plus about two dozen instructional and island staff. The weather pattern keeps improving, but certain themes are repeating: rain Monday and Tuesday, sun Wednesday and Thursday.

Today was a sparkling Wednesday and lo and behold there was space on the Snow Goose, headed out for another tour to Eastern Egg Rock. I got everyone situated here, got campers headed where they needed to be for the morning, and then hopped aboard for the trip.

Harbor seals loafing in the bay.

It turned out to be a great decision. The weather was perfect, the birds cooperative, and the company entertaining. I even scored at least one, but possibly three life birds! The definite lifer was parasitic jaeger, but I couldn't remember if I'd seen great cormorant or white-winged scoter before. I definitely saw them today!

Of course I took a bunch more bad bird photos. These were bad with a blue background, as opposed to the weekend birds, which were bad with a gray background. I suppose we could call that an improvement.

Linocuts come to the camp store.

There IS a little bit of lino-related news from camp. Long-time readers may recall that last summer my work was featured at the Project Puffin Visitor Center in Rockland. A few framed pieces remained there in inventory, and we decided to bring them over to the island and share them in the camp store. Eric and Juanita oversaw the installation.

One more day of this session and then it's prep time for the last session of my tour as Program Manager. Three days after that session ends I'm off to another adventure.... in which I will be looking at the Atlantic ocean from the opposite coastline. Stay tuned!

View from the Coast #2 : Finding a rhythm and some free time

We just said goodnight to our second group of camp guests and in the morning will see them back to the mainland and on their way. This week I finally found a rhythm that wasn't a constant dead run and the weather improved from ridiculously cold and damp to warm and sunny. My long underwear, which I was obliged to wear all last week, has gone back in the drawer where it should be in early June.

Life here on the island seems very far removed from the usual routines of Colorado and home, but once in a while I get little reminders of that reality. The reminders this week were all good ones! In addition to winning an award at the Colorado Governor's Invitational Show, all of the pelican linocuts that I made available to the exhibition have been sold! A great and happy surprise.

Still no chance to do any sketching (maybe this week?), but I did sneak out for a little rowboat adventure the other afternoon. Mostly I'm a klutz with the oars, but I did avoid being pulled out to sea with the wind and tide, so I guess that's something. I did best when I was just hanging out in the boat tied to the dock.

My stint here as Program Manager for Hog Island Audubon Camp is already half over, hard to believe as that is. At the end of the month I'll leave for two weeks and then be back in a different role as an instructor. It's been really great to get to know this place and this program from another perspective, and I'm looking forward to seeing what other discoveries await.