The dazzling uncertainty of it.

Rural Maine’s changing landscape is this and more.

My cousin also favored words attributed to Mark Twain. “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute,” he’d say. 80 years lobstering, so I didn’t question him.

In February of 2020, I moved permanently back home to Maine’s Mid-Coast.

To make it official, we dug a big hole in the side of a hill for a house and art studio.

I overlook a “great” pond, one of the state’s literally thousands of lakes. Mine includes a view of Ragged Mountain, at least, on a clear day…

Breath in and then out and change your perspective.

The gentle rise and fall of your chest, even a single blink, changes what you see. Paint can do this for you: give you a number of moments, not just one moment, and coax you into experiencing those moments over time.

  • Cold glass shards in your lungs. The frozen pond, still in motion.

  • Early Spring fire vs. cold cool blues.

  • The scratchy earth beneath your feet still belongs to the winter, for now.

  • Soft, considerate dusk but only in the warm Summer months.

Ink blue skies. Moonlight’s green-gold tinge, splattered about. Values shaped by the landscape.