Last summer I had the opportunity to travel to “outer” Cape Cod. As any New Englander will tell you, the outer Cape is the REAL Cape: less crowded, more nostalgic, unspoiled. One feels the history of the place in the spongy turf under our feet, the smell of the salt air on the wind, the rippled patterns left behind by the receding tide. I spent days walking along the shore, fording streams looking for fauna and animal life unique to the environment, and of course eating the best sea food in the world. On day three of my journey, I happened across a most delightful place. Miles of sandy trails, causeways, bridges and boardwalks meant to carry me into distant places, through lush underbrush, and down steep embankments.
At one point I came upon an old bridge which spanned a marshy inlet. I attempted to shimmy down the side of the sandy edge to get a better look at the gorgeous blues and emerald greens of the shallow pool when I lost my footing and ended up knee deep in a pool of muck. The smell of raw earth hit my nostrils; I looked down to see I was caked in mud-what a time I had getting rid of the smell and that dirt! How I longed for those days during this harshest of New England winters.
The paintings reprinted here in situ (superimposed onto a stylized
background) are the result of my excursion to the outer Cape. I have blogged about the process I used to paint them with in the following posts:
painting process, painting process II.
If you would like to visit my studio and see what else I’ve been up to this winter, send me an email or give me a call to set up an appointment.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story,
Meg
