Thursday, November 2, 2017

Near Rutland




Near Rutland / 10x10

As I drove into Vermont, I found myself doing a thing I'd found myself doing already on this trip - traveling roads I know, going to destinations I've loved.

I hadn't planned on doing this, and in fact, it came as somewhat of a surprise to me, though now, looking back, I react with an amazed "duh."

Why hadn't I thought I'd visit my old haunts? Why hadn't I thought I'd go back to places that I lived, homes that I loved, areas that I knew?

I think that when I was planning the trip, I simply wasn't focusing on my past, or on myself. I was focusing on the present moment, and the trip, and places to go to make paintings that would delight all of you.

So when I found myself choosing to go toward Bolster's Mills, in Maine; choosing to go to Plymouth Union, in Vermont; choosing, in fact, to go to New England in the first place, when I look back at it, it surprised me - and made me look afresh at these places I once knew so well.

Rutland and the area around it is one of those places. I found this farm and made this painting on a road I'd never known, but in a place whose light, whose breeze, whose landscape I knew intimately.

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Scenes from the Road

Yes, it has finally happened - the pre-Halloween Christmas tree. 
And guess what store I was in when I found this display? 


Above, a big sneaker on the road in Springfield, MA. 
I bet it has something to do with the fact that basketball was invented in Springfield? 


This is the Augusta Civic Center, in Augusta, Maine - and this is basically all of the civic center. It is so tiny, so dinky, it sort of amazes me, and thought you might enjoy seeing it. 

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Dog of the Day


Really, I do have fun with the Dog of the Day. This rooster and three happy, fluffy chickens live at the farm in Massachusetts where I painted with the Joneses.
This guy squawked nearly the whole time we were painting.

***
A Final Thought

"Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable ...
the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street ...
and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese." 
- Hal Borland



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