On Christine

Peoples and Steeples

For me, keeping a sketchbook does not mean you have to know how to draw. Yes, I’ve gotten better with practice, but when it comes to people, I am at a loss. But you know what? I’m not going to let that stop me! Carry on, my wayward pen.

A Steamroller Named Milton

Full-on summer in New England, and the wherewithal to get out and enjoy it. It’s almost as if we have never been out and about, it all seems so fresh and new. ¶ Our tiny town has its commons at the top of the hill (about 1200 ft. altitude; we are a “Hill Town”) that sits at the center with Library, Town Hall, Post Office, and Church marking the corners. And that’s it for our town. But there are picnic tables and shade, and a directional sign marking the way from here. Shutesbury used to be called Roadtown, because its roads lead to so many other places. ¶ Maybe you’d like to come and visit. It’s a special place.

P.S. I’ve been asked about ‘pinxit.’ ‘Scriptsit,’ which you might know, means, ‘I wrote it’ (in the sense of the lettering … you’ll find it in medieval texts). ‘Pinxit,’ then, means ‘I painted it.’ And I did!

The State of May

A very good friend, Richard Jester, has left us. He was the art director at Oregon Magazine, where he caused me to be so much better at my work. Richard was special; I will truly miss the conversations we have had over the years, and my gratitude to him knows no bounds. Requiescat in pace, Richard.

Cape Ann

Blessed with better weather than expected, our first outing in 400 days, wondering exactly how long it had been since we’ve been to the beach, this trip was rife with possibility . . . but the world had changed; it felt weird out there. Masks in place, a smile has become a certain crinkle in the eye, or are we all still so very wary?