So I have moved from a garden by the sea to a garden in the woods not far from the sea. It’s another hobbit-like house built into a hill with a half acre of cleared land for gardens and about 2 acres of forest and brambles. There are wild berries and herbs hiding in there somewhere and I’ll find them eventually. C.P. and I have made a small dent in setting up new gardens just in time to put them to bed. Freya loves it here. I’ve never seen her so relaxed. Nemo is still pouting. I think he misses his ocean view. I don’t. When I look out of any window, all I see are trees. It’s so peaceful and much warmer. The ocean is a 20 minute walk instead of a 20 second walk. This beach has more rocks which also means that there are fewer people. Not bad at all.
The old shed has electricity and running water so with a little patience and labor I’ll have a new studio by next summer.
There are water pipes everywhere and a well.
The view from the front and Freya’s favorite new spot.
My flying carpet. Mine!
The entire contents of my studio and library, old book pages, works in progress, and art supplies, are still in boxes and bins waiting to be moved and reorganized. I’ll have to content myself with garden photographs, beginning with the ridiculous amount of allotment pictures from a recent trip to Boston. The light, the sky, the weather, and the scarcity of other wandering bodies made it a perfect day for taking photographs. There are a few more in my previous post and a full set on Flickr.
A collection of well tended allotments is a magical place. Although I would never again wish to live in a city, I have a fascination with small urban gardens and allotments. There is such an abundance of charm in small gardens with their clever use of structures and strategic plantings. The victory gardens on the Fenway create an oasis in the midst of crowds, cars, and chaos.
I love the rusty nails and thorny branches all over the posts and gates. I know they are there to discourage vandals and thieves but I find them so beautiful and sculptural in this context.
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I did not rest on my birthday after all but I did take a much needed break from renovations and moving. I wore myself out walking across Boston from one end to the other and back again and was rewarded with inspirations aplenty. C.P. McDill and I made a rare visit to the city for gallery hopping and window shopping. We strolled from the Commons through the Public Garden and down the full length of Newbury Street, stopping to admire the hand carved cabinets of Jenna Goldberg and the incomparable paintings of Goxwa at Axelle. We wandered through the exhaustive maze of allotments at Fenway Victory Gardens working up an appetite for the amazing Thai cuisine we had for dinner. We ended the evening by winding up the main street, returning to the Commons in time for sunset on the pond and a carousel ride. It was a perfectly lovely day capped off by reading many generous blessings and good wishes for which I am thankful.
Photographs, of course, do not do Goxwa’s work justice. There is so much light in these paintings. I recommend that anyone near Boston visit her solo show at Axelle Gallery on Newbury Street. These are just details taken with a digital. The full compositions have more impact.
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I’ve been completely lost in the limbo land between buying and selling a home. It seems as if all we’ve done this spring and summer is work on one or the other house or garden and move objects between them. Cats are confused. I am exhausted. My blog has been neglected. I’ve been painting walls and longing to paint again from a palette rather than a can. I am excited to move into my new home though and I love it madly even though it’s stolen all of my time. The most challenging and emotional part of all this has been moving the gardens, deciding which plants to keep and which to leave and where they go and all that jazz. These photos were taken last week at the beach house garden. Everything has changed dramatically again. Faded irises have given way to an explosion of daisies, coreopsis, and foxglove. So much inspiration. So little time.