John's

I think his name was John. Day Four, Year Two

He has a place out on the water where he tinkers. He has a very slapped together, very OLD group of buildings and lots of airplane parts, airplane photos with history in them, and other odd pieces of art and photos. He is there welding a bike part. Next to him is the body of a small plane. He has a little room where opera music plays. Going into the building where the bathroom is smells just like my grandfather's garage. I think it's the wood, plus the humidity, and all the STUFF, there is lots of stuff... and age of the place. Smells are so powerful to the memory. But he is David's friend and says we can come out there any time and paint. David likes places where there is ample stuff lying around to paint.

He paints a dock with an aircraft carrier and a lighthouse off on the horizon. On the shore near where we sit, it looks like someone has dumped bales of hay into the water and they have become all soggy and are rotting. But on closer observation, I see that they are Maine rocks covered with some kind of sea weed --- something yellowy brown and stringy looking.

I consider trying the same scene he chose, just to see what would happen. I had tried to copy a couple of his paintings out of his book the week before I left.

It takes me a long time to settle on an idea. Using my camera lens, I finally decide, but I think I have decided just because I feel pressure to get going, not because I like my idea. I use big paper today. I know I need to learn to work bigger. I prop my new board up on my knees and use my rolling backpack to support the other end. Big sketch. It's gray and overcast again. I lay in my big washes. After several washes the paper will start buckling, but I can't get what I want. I mix too many colors and it look muddy to me. I paint a dock and a tugboat as one shape. I have poles framing the sides leaning into the picture. The water gets muddier. I put reddish brown into the sky to balance the dock and it looks awful. One of my classmates had told me he liked the sky right before I did it and he said "I'd leave that sky alone."

While waiting for my washes to dry, I paint a little sketch of the cement silos, one square and one round. It takes only about 5 minutes. They are HUGE and they are fascinating, especially since we are situated right at the base of them, making them all the more dramatic in size. There is a ladder way up there leading from the top of one to the other. I wonder how you get up there. I paint some very small windows in the sides of them. I take some photos.

Several people walk by and comment on my dock painting. I say I hate it and want to rip it up and start over, but I must keep going and see what happens. This is another thing David has taught us. If you have an idea, and it doesn't seem to be working, keep going anyway.

David comes by and I say go away. He makes some helpful comments and I am sorry that I am being childish and letting myself get upset with my work. I brought a sandwich today so I don't have to take time off to go buy food. But it starts to rain a little. In fact it dripped all over David's demonstration and he talked of some artist who has a painting in a gallery in ...was it San Diego? and the painting has spots like this all over it.

I put all my things in a little carport like shelter that has a lawn mower in it so that I don't have to pack it all into my car and I drive off to find Dunkin Donuts. When I get back and drink my coffee the rain is over and we resume painting. Some are finished. I still don't like my work, but it did improve. People said they liked it. It's hard to accept a compliment when you yourself don't like it. I guess it was mostly the muddiness of the color that I disliked. And to define the pier supports, I had to go darker and darker till there was no darker left to go.

My 2 poles on the sides like parentheses look dumb to me.

One person who is not in the class this year came by and told me she thought it was David's demonstration painting. Now that is a high compliment to me and a grand insult to him.

It's Lobster Pound night and we all go out. I bring my Red Truck wine and share it with my table mates. We drink out of little paper cups but I see someone at the other table has brought wine glasses. I have on my plastic bib and someone must have gotten my hard shell because she comes out with only one lobster left and it's soft shell. OK I say and they refund me the difference in price which I put into the tip jar. It's good but it seems like I only get about 6 or 7 bites. The corn is not very good. But it's lovely sitting out there by the water and there is a beautiful orange lambswool sunset over the heads of my tablemates. One guy says hey we should rent one of those boats and go out on the bay. I say yeah, but we don't do it. Everyone breaks up and I drive home.