One Thing Leads to Another
As a result of posting about my last building portrait, and then after that post was shared on Facebook, I received a delightful commission to paint another beautiful and iconic building in Glens Falls, NY.
21 Bay was a pleasure to paint, from its small square stained glass windows to its intricately decorated friezes. The unique focus on just the entrance area highlights the features that make this building stand out.
21 Bay stood empty for quite some time before the current owners renovated and restored it, and now contains apartments on its upper floors and several businesses along the street side, another great example of grand old buildings re-purposed rather than wrecked, made useful, vital and glorious once again.
Nothing stops the process of packing up for moving like coming across my high school yearbooks. They practically leaped out, and lured me into going through them, page by page. Equal parts laughing and cringing, I spent my sweet time looking through them, reflecting on who I was then and who I am now. And knowing that, at the very core, I'm not all that different now.
I was then, as I am now, an artist. This is my cornerstone. There was a period of my life, being too busy with trying to support myself, I did not paint a single stroke. This is what I had to do at the time. Luckily for my creative soul, my circumstances changed and I was able to return to my art. Even though I don't do it everyday, at least I always have a painting or project going, set goals for myself for exhibits, and I keep art in my mind and heart at all times.
Our yearbook theme for my senior year was Changing Tides. I don't remember who came up with that deep one; we were a creative lot. As art editor, I scattered my pen & ink drawings of seagulls and seascapes throughout the pages. I look at those drawings done 30 years ago, and first of all think that my skill has improved quite a bit since then (one would hope!). I vaguely remember drawing them, but mostly I remember how good it felt back then to see them in print, immortalized (albeit for a small audience), a contribution to a part of time.
The yearbooks are all packed in a box again, to be looked at the next time I happen across them. My memories are tucked neatly back to where nostalgia lives, a place that should only be visited for a short time and infrequently, so the real living and art making can continue. Not to mention the packing and the excitement of setting up my studio in our new home.