Working...working...working...

Hello! I am still here. Somewhere.

While I sit on my studio couch and write to you, I’m contemplating a painting of Cumberland Island, the bones of which I blocked in yesterday. Trying to figure out if I am on the right track, before I go any further. The questioning-second-guessing nature of an artist is in full swing these days.

I am now shackled to the studio each day from early morning to early evening, working on the 14 large paintings that will culminate the year long work of my grant project. There are a lot of paintings to be done in the next six weeks. I have eight paintings going at the moment, rotating them on and off the easel on a regular basis, four spinning around in my head and one that is finished… unless I find something wrong with it and put it back up on the easel. Normally, I would be over confident in the time I have left but in a spectacular fall ten days ago, I incurred a buckle fracture in my right arm above my wrist (and yes, I know, buckle fractures are rare in people over 12 years old; further evidence I am either immature or aging backwards) I have been painting unhappily in a brace since the first week of July and will be in it for at least another week I think.

It’s not exactly how I envisioned this going. Painting is complicated enough but trying to hoist big canvases on and off the easel, wield a brush and mix color has become at the very best uncomfortable and at the worst painful. Fortunately, most days it is somewhere in the middle of those two and each day I figure out new ways to do things. My left hand is having to assume roles it never anticipated and my right hand, enclosed in this clunky brace, is kept busy inventing alternative ways to apply paint since the normal ways aren’t possible. By the end of each day the muscles in my hand and forearm are cramping and I am cranky, exhausted and brain dead. My painting may be slower and grumpier but my neural pathways are improving by the minute. Back off Alzheimers!

I feel a bit like Wesley at the end of each day….

My intention to write on Substack as this adventure unfolded got away from me in late April. Big, big apologies for that! I have a life long tendency to overestimate what I can accomplish on any given day. I know this about myself but my enthusiasm always eclipses all practicality. As my schedule ramped up and I traveled and painted on eight islands throughout April, May and June, something had to give and I realized I had to let the Substack part go, at least until I could take a breath. Or at least until I was in one place long enough to think clearly. My journal is full to bursting but translating all of my notations and observations and wonderings and wanderings into something understandable and readable takes a lot more time and energy than I have had.

Speaking of energy, it takes me longer and longer to get myself back together after traveling. These have been hard trips. Exhausting physically and mentally. I appreciate the beauty around me, and overwhelmed and completely at a loss of words for it, but the reality is, oftentimes my exploration looks like this: head bent, eyes on the ground, putting one foot in front of the other in an all out effort to move my body from one spot to the next and cover as much ground as possible. I feel my age during those times. Not creeping up on me and sitting lightly on my shoulders but resting heavy in my chest. Then in the very next moment, I see something so beautiful, so magical that the years evaporate as if age and exhaustion were a bad dream. These wild places will do that to you.

Life doesn’t quit for a grant project and interspersed with all of the trapsing through the islands comes the bills that have to be paid and paintings that have to be painted to pay them. With so much less studio time over the last few months for my actual job, I have only been able to paint the bare minimum. Double the expenses and halve the income… you get the idea. I will be on the other side of this project soon so I have made concessions and tightened the purse strings as much as possible. Life as an artist is always tenuous when it comes to income. It is an up and down life, and not for those who need the reliability of a weekly paycheck. It takes faith in yourself, faith in your art, sometimes when there isn’t much else to go on.

Pushing through is a big part of this project. Pushing through the exhaustion, the cancelled trips, the unanswered emails, the bills that continue to pile up, the science I struggle to understand and the long hours with the paint, canvas and paper. I have to keep pushing, even when I am tired and don’t think I can do it anymore and friends and family tell me to stop. Some days, I’m not sure it is anything other than stubbornness that keeps me going. Thank goodness I have plenty of that. My mind is tired and my reserves are dwindling but I will keep working. Ahead is the promise of a finish. A chance to wrap up a body of work that I will never have the chance to do this way again… A once in a life time opportunity that I refuse to do no less than the absolute best I can. I just have to keep finding it in myself each day. Some of those days are easier than others but what I have locked away in my heart from this experience sustains me and keeps me going.

There is so much to write about these islands, so many beautiful spots and stories to tell and the amazing people I have been lucky enough to meet and spend time with. These last ten months have been a feast for my soul. The wilderness has spoiled me and changed the way I look at the world. I’m looking forward to sharing my adventures and discoveries with you. But for the next few weeks I will be painting instead of writing. Until then, I am posting a painting from my sketchbook each day here on Notes. So if you are interested in seeing some of my sketchbook work for this project please check in here. I’m not sharing much on IG/FB these days because the algorithm makes it feel pointless and is such a time suck for me. And I have no time to spare.

Thanks for reading and understanding and I will talk to you in a month. Take care and hold tight to good things! And don’t fall down! 😉