Under an overcast sky

A quick sale.

A quick sale.

I’ve been pottering around Massachusetts and New York so much that I finally lost the thread. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to post, and I apologize that it’s so late.

Our house in Rochester closed yesterday, ending a 22-year chapter in our life. We were in Rochester during the closing but that was coincidental. Our affairs were in the very capable hands of our attorney, who hardly needed us around mucking up the works.

Class in the old studio in Rochester.

Class in the old studio in Rochester.

It was exactly one year and ten days between when we offered on the house in Rockport to when we closed on the house in Rochester. For all that time, we’ve lived and worked in a state of flux. Things in boxes, things out of boxes, contracts to read, decisions to make, shuttling between places.

It officially ended yesterday.

My Rockport studio.

My Rockport studio.

Later this week I will be announcing the start of weekly classes in my Rockport studio. I can’t help but compare the space with the one I had in Rochester. It’s substantially larger and brighter and far more accessible to mobility-challenged painters. But it sits in rather solitary splendid compared to my Rochester studio, which was filled with students and friends. It’s hard to imagine now, but the same thing will happen in Rockport.

Speaking of students, several of them met me at Schoen Place yesterday afternoon to paint. It was overcast and cold with 40 MPH gusts of wind. We walked around for nearly an hour trying to find a sheltered location, but the wind was fierce enough to explore every little cranny with fingers of cold. Finally, we gave up and went to lunch.

Today the sign went down.

Today the sign went down.

I’ve driven around my old haunts and walked in my former neighborhood, looking for twinge of nostalgia or sentiment. Other than the joy of being with my friends, the biggest thing I’ve noticed is the dark sky, which presses down on the Lake Plains with almost palpable force.  This morning I watched a band of mackerel clouds scudding to the east, while in the distance a band of fluffier cumulus clouds pushed westward. They were like rivers in the sky, and so close I could almost touch them. Wild and beautiful, these ever-present clouds are why we Lake Plains women have such flawless skin. However, they’re also deeply gloomy, and I have to admit that I don’t miss them.

Carol Douglas

About Carol Douglas

Carol L. Douglas is a painter who lives, works and teaches in Rockport, ME. Her annual workshop will again be held on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park, from August 6-11, 2017. Visit www.watch-me-paint.com/ for more information.