- Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. Margaret Meade
In 1879 a small group of thoughtful, committed artists gathered together to create the Copley Society.
Ever since, undoubtedly with much challenge through the years, it been a quality venue for exhibition for many artists. The society is named for John Singleton Copley, a renowned American portrait and historical painter who was born in Boston in 1738 and died in England in 1815.
Recently renamed Co/So, the gallery is spacious and well presented. I am very pleased to become a member. The quality of the work is terrific, and the location is excellent: Newbury Street in Boston. I missed
It was a nice surprise was to see work by Sean Callahan hung next to mine. It's a small world, after all. He is a wonderful watercolorist whose work I have admired for years. Sean lives in Vergennes, Vermont, not far from here. His studio is called
"Dog Tired Studio." His website is very impressive too. Sean's work captures the spirit of the creatures he paints, and yet maintains a painterly transparency and luminosity that is quite lovely.This is the fourth year of Brandon's Art in the Snow, an event which began as a promotion by the local B&B's and Inns, and has now morphed into a very successful celebration of the arts in our town. This time of year is pretty cold and inactive in Brandon. We're little bit too far from the ski areas to be the first choice of places to stay, and the summer tourism spots are frozen over and buried under ice and snow.
For the first two years the event was...uneventful.
There were only 5 or 6 artists participating, and the elements conspired against us- there was no snow, or it was bitterly cold. Then master organizer, and fabulous fabric artist Judy Reilly took over! She and her band of merry volunteers organized the artist troops, the merchants, the town... This year 14 artists opened their studios or demonstrated in a public venue. More than 100 people traipsed through the Granary. There were surprisingly good sales of art all over town.
I have been waiting to get some photos of the wonderful special foods that were prepared before posting, but I'll just add them as soon as possible
If our entire society is to be revitalized, it will depend on what we as individual Americans are willing to do on our own, in association with others, and how willing we are to extend ourselves beyond our own personal interests. John D. Rockefeller III
My studio is in a large, airy, building called the Granary in Brandon, Vermont. The rooms are spacious & ceilings high. Just right for the canvases, and sculpture I'm now working on and the adult and children's classes I teach.
As far as I know the building is about 100 years old. My sense of the history is a little sketchy, but at various points it was a General Mills flour mill, then morphed into a feed store, and subsequently became a factory for those scratchy, woolen long-johns made from fine, Vermont wool. In the last 30 years two successful furniture companies have begun there: New England Woodcraft and High Pond Woodworks.
The current owners, Stephanie and Brian Jerome purchased the building thinking that they might need room to expand storage for their company which is right next door. The Visual Learning Company produces terrific videos and references for
The videos and DVD's they create are excellent. When the market focus shifted to compact DVD's requiring less space than videos, they decided to take a risk and turn the building into studio space.
Sheer Genius!
Painters, sculptors, videographers, printmakers, jewelers and folk artists now tromp the hallways that were once shadowy with sawdust and cobwebs.
But the Jerome brilliance extends even farther.
This holiday season they came up with a Win/Win/Win. Each year they devise a unique bonus for their employees, and this year they gave them a fistful of "Granary Green:" bright, green "bills" specifically to be used to purchase art from artists in the Granary.
The word is that their employees were delighted to be able to purchase original art from the local artists, and certainly those of us who have studios were happy to have sales that enable us to pay the rent!
Definitely a win/win/win for all.
“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not
living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in
our hand- and melting like a snowflake...”
Sometimes it's as simple as a shaft of sunlight that illuminates the petals on a peony; sometimes it's having the camera ready to click as an elusive creature emerges and disappears; sometimes it's catching a wave or the wind, or a smile.
Being in the right place at the right time is a gift.
A few days ago I happened to be in the right place at the right time to save a woman's life.
I'm still stunned.
She was drowning.
I could barely hear her cries for help as I crawled ashore into a tiny, stony cove after struggling against a surprising current on the seaward side of Water Lemon Cay. A week before I had effortlessly floated around the exact same spot, barely kicking, delighting in the staghorn coral and hordes of curious sergeant majors in both yellow and blue phases. Green turtles and an octopus. That day I was immersed in a nonchalant, benevolent wilderness.
I didn't think she was serious at first. But when I recognized her panic I instantly dove back in to try to help, foolishly thinking that together we could fight the outgoing tide. After several determined minutes I realized that we couldn't, and it was entirely possible we both would drown in the treacherous turquoise water. She grabbed my neck in classic desperation, and I remember saying "Ma'am, if you don't let go of my neck I'll have to let you go."
Such strangely formal words. Ma'am? I never say Ma'am! How very odd.
But a shred of logic overtook her desperation, and she released my neck. I still wonder what I would have done if she'd continued to cling to me, dragging us both down.
She complied again when I asked her to float on her back and kick, but even with my most fervent kicking and her feeble efforts combined we were losing ground against the tide. It's amazing that there were still Castleton students in the sheltered cove where I had first heard the woman. When they heard my shouts, Matt Digan and Tom Denison immediately dove in and together, with immense effort, they got her to the shore with me struggling alongside.
Her lips were blue, her knees buckled uselessly beneath her wiry frame, her eyes rolled back in her head. She was unresponsive, but breathing. Matt had lifeguard training and assessed her as being in shock, but stable. He and Tom swam to a nearby sailboat to ask for assistance in getting her to the mainland. While they were gone she woke up enough to answer some questions... I told her that the men had gone for help, and she said "What men?" She remembered that I had been there, but not them. Her husband had turned back, but she was a strong swimmer and had decided to continue alone.
She works at the Library of Congress.
That sunlit, dangerous day was her 60th birthday.
I'm so glad I heard her, and that we were all there.
In the right place at the right time.
"for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
its always ourselves we find in the sea
- E.E. Cummings
We were constantly observing, identifying and responding artistically to the fauna and habitat of the reef and surrounding forests. But what an exquisite
I think I've finally figured out the various stages of Stoplight Parrotfish, and how to distinguish them from Rainbow and Princess Parrotfish. All of them, so brilliantly colored and elegant as they float with majestic serenity through the beds of contorted coral and sponges.
whose lives were spent in brutal labor until they were finally liberated.
are bats, lizards, frogs and endless buzzing insects.
No time for quotes or imagery today... I'm in mid-stride teaching a terrific course for Castleton College called The Art and Ecology of Coral Reefs. It is very intense (and fabulous.) Cynthia Moulton, a zoologist, and I have 15 highly motivated students. Needless to say, it's a ton of fun.
Days are spent snorkeling, identifying, drawing and painting reef creatures: fish, corals, sponges, gorgonians etc. Evenings we're painting in the classroom and seeing some excellent DVDs on reefs and art. I'm also working on the illustrations for a children's book that Cynthia has written.
We've done some strenuous, sweaty hikes through dry, thorny forest on the south side of St. John. Sugar plantation ruins tell the tale of colonial inhabitants, while the mysterious petroglyphs hint of previous cultures. The Taino were here before the Dutch. We're staying at VIERS, the Virgin Island Environmental Research Station.
The rich diversity of the reef is visually stunning... Color, form, complexity: all within a few feet of the surface of these balmy salt waters. Who made these things up? Bizarre adaptation of color and form. Scrawled cowfish, monstruously contorted octopi and spotted drums are my current favorites. Yellow Snapper and Blue Tang feel like old friends. Quite a few green sea turtles this trip too. It is astonishing to see their bulk flying so gracefully and effortlessly through the waters.
John James Audubon grew up on an island near here, though I can't remember which. (Ha! Saint Domingue- which became Haiti) No wonder he became an artist naturalist. The islands are resonant with cultural history, and the beauty of natural flora and fauna. Birds have been elusive. Lots of sound, and the inevitable pearly eyed thrashers and pelicans. All quite lovely of course. Antillean crested hummers are ever-so pretty, and behaviorally fun to watch as they battled over whose turn it was under the dripping trickle of a waterfall on our hike.
When I am home and have better connectivity (very slow here, and others are waiting for computer time) I will elaborate and add pix.
