New Hampshire, Alberta, Wisconsin, and Airplane!

Spring has come at last. We are in Colburn Park in Lebanon, New Hampshire. I had in mind to draw the town library, the yellow brick building with columns. Not until I got there did I decide to include the trees, the Veterans’ Memorial, and the swing set. Urban parks have intrigued me for a long time. This one is square, surrounded by a street, and around that are some fine old buildings. The park is used by people of all ages, and it serves a real community need.

I like the pathways in Edmonton, where our younger daughter and her family live. Our younger granddaughter balances on the round river rocks, on the left. A jack rabbit on the right watches us. (The plentiful wild rabbits are large and white in the winter, and turn brown in the summer.) He and his siblings have nibbled the bark on the crabapple trees. That is why they are yellow. He had a good reason, as it was a long cold winter and he got hungry. The snow got very deep and he ate all the way up. I don’t think the bark has been permanently damaged. We shall see. The purple shape on the right is a roof line not a mountain. Oh, that we could see the Rocky Mountains from here. They are a four hour car ride west of Edmonton.

This space is called Café o’ Play in Edmonton, Canada. Good snacks for the parents, and a fun experience for the kids. I drew our grandson three times, as he was everywhere. There were lots of other kids there too of course. In the background I included the mothers who come to meet other mothers. They are all holding their infants, and enjoying their conversations.

Our younger granddaughter again. I liked her black and white dress. Her hair is not really blue and pink and red. My colored pencils just pick themselves up and start to work. Her hair is ash brown with bluish tones in the shines.

Our older granddaughter, aged 8, drew these sunglasses. I thought she did well. I give her drawing lessons sometimes, and talk about observational sketching.

My sister is very kindly making me a pair of earrings. We chose the beads together the day before. Her house is made from a barn that was on their property. It was taken down, numbered, cleaned, moved, and reassembled at 5/8th size, I think. The diagonal beams were in such a configuration in the barn. The windows were added. I love the oak trees on their property with their wavy branches.

Another room in the barn house. Their cat Alibi watches the bluebirds outside. The lilac bushes are all in bloom now. The scent is divine. My sister and her husband maintain bluebird boxes on their land. We opened them up and peeked at turquoise eggs and grey fuzzy newborns.

I saw this sunset from the airplane window. Below is Lake Erie, one of the massive lakes that form the border between the U.S. and Canada. I drew it on an iPad. It is fun to paint with light.

Another iPad drawing. This is the moon as we flew over Chicago. The lake on the left is Lake Michigan. The city’s skyscrapers hug the shoreline. The blocks on the right are of low rise buildings, on the flat Illinois land, with yellow street lights. I come from the East Coast where the roads twist and turn around the hills. I prefer to live in a hilly landscape, but it is fun to see the regular square shapes of light as I fly over the earth.

One more iPad drawing. I love these colorful songbirds. They occupy a very large enclosure in the Ingleside Nursing Home in Wisconsin, where my mother lives. They make nests and have babies. And quarrel and sing and entertain the residents and guests. I try to imagine them in their native habitat.

New Hampshire, England, and Alberta!

Once a month, I believe, the First Baptist Church of New London clears floorspace on the second floor. Then they roll out their labyrinth. It really is purple, and it is available for anyone to come walk upon.

The design, painted on cloth, is a replica of the one at Chartres Cathedral in France. The path twists and turns, but you get to the center and out again without encountering any dead ends. Unexpected thoughts pop into your head when you walk a labyrinth. I recommend it to all. Some people find it spiritually enlightening.

I do not care for mazes though. Ever since we had to ask to be let out of the maze at Hampton Court in England. Funny enough, after I finished the labyrinth, I had a very hard time finding my way back out of the church building. It was too much like a maze.

And here is the church building that houses the labyrinth. I love the bell tower, with its Revere bell. I ran out of room for the weather vane atop the tower. This is the small, side door with the ramp for accessibility. I like this view for the differences in scale: the large white building, the small home across the street (in the same materials of painted wood), and Mount Sunapee in the distance with the ski slopes.

As a child, I often amused myself by playing with scale. For example, I remember lying in the grass with my eyes so close to the blades of grass that they could be imagined as jungle trees. And the ants were monstrously large beasts, carrying home food as big as a house. I was easily entertained!

Here is a fiber piece I made a few years ago, based on a labyrinth in Crete. It is wool, pulled through linen and about 14 inches square. It is meant to hang on a wall.

Ah, our April Fool’s Day storm (April 1). See the delicate evergreens weighed down with the heavy snow. This is the view from our kitchen window.

Hanging from the window frame are colorful glass ornaments. The grapes and the mushrooms are leaded, stained glass, bought on a trip to Meissen Germany in 2000. (We loved Meissen!) The round ones are made locally. They sure do brighten up the room on a winter’s day. Or snowy spring day.

I think I enjoy putting drawings online because the light shines through them, enlivening them. This blog is the best exhibit I ever had!

This is the view of Mount Kearsarge from Wilmot. We board our dog here sometimes. I was taken with the look of the picnic table, waiting patiently for a family meal once the weather eases.

The bare trees reminded me of tethered hot air balloons.

Another view of the hamlet of Elkins, near our house. One day I suddenly realized that this pile of sticks in the center is a beaver lodge. Their dam is at the far edge of the water. I would like to see the beavers swimming.

There is still snow. Next to the lodge are several grey granite boulders dropped there in the last glacier age.

The shrubs are starting to turn red and yellow as the winter progresses to spring.

Last week I was part of a small reunion of our University of New Hampshire dormitory, held in Greenland, NH. We sat around a table for hours and gabbed. It is good to reunite with people.

This was my view. After an hour or two, I got out my pencil and paper and drew it. I put in the color later.

We were near Portsmouth, near the ocean, so no snow! Just the greenish grass of the golf course. The water is Great Bay, and the mountain is a hill. I think I exaggerated the height because I liked the color of it. I don’t know what kind of trees are on the left with their curly branches. I would guess a kind of willow.

Spring Ledge Farm is our local garden center. We went this day because it was grey, cold and windy. I need color like vitamins. We went out back to see the newborn lambs, and the chickens.

Then I drew the flowers. Left to right: hyacinth, white Easter lilies, yellow Asian lilies, and red amaryllis. And a basket of potatoes.

Aha, a drawing of seeds in spring. Only one has sprouted so far. Under the seed box is a colorful sheet of wrapping paper. All this rests on a small table.

This drawing was done in 1983, in England. And the brightly painted table had just been made by our 7 year old daughter. (She is now a designer.) The colors of the table are accurate.

And here is our second daughter at the same time, 1983. She loved board games, puzzles, and rainbow colors. And still does.

Below are her children.

I made this drawing on our new iPad. Our two granddaughters hold hands, and look for springtime treasures to put into their bucket. They were 4 and 2 at the time.

I did this by looking at a photo which is now 4 years old. But I remember the day well. And the hats.

We will be seeing them soon at their home in Alberta, Canada, along with their little brother. Maybe I’ll have time to draw!

New Hampshire and Maryland

This is another view out of our front door. The beech leaves which cling on the branches until spring add a note of color in the winter. The color is quite a warm copper, with golden touches. The wooden bird is our doorknocker. The next day I saw a real woodpecker.

It has been a very snowy and cold winter. You see the massive piles of snow in Elkins, a part of our town of New London. Mount Kearsarge is in the background. Every day that I drove past here, I loved the looks of the red house against the purple mountain. One day, at 2:58 PM I pulled over and drew it.

One day, while we drove past our Pleasant Lake on the way to the Post Office, we saw a beautiful and mysterious aqua glow on the ice. For a day and a half, we had glacial type ice on a small patch in the middle of the lake. This dense, heavy ice absorbs all the other colors of light except this one. We have seen it before in the west, in the ice caves of Mount Rainier in Washington State and also in the glaciers of the Canadian Rockies. But I have never seen it here in New Hampshire. I drew this from memory.

Main Street, New London, New Hampshire. In the background, buildings on the campus of Colby-Sawyer College. In the foreground, a row of very old and weather-scarred sugar maple trees, being tapped for spring sap. A sharp, hollow spike is driven into the bark; then the sap drips into the buckets. The mildly sweet sap is collected, and boiled down into maple syrup. The little peaked roof just keeps out the rain. This an encore drawing from last year.

This drawing was used as an illustration in the publication Kearsarge Magazine. The article is about a hotel in nearby Bradford known for its healing medicinal waters. This is my first magazine illustration in color. I had to do a little bit of research on fashionable clothing for the country, in the 1880’s. New Hampshire had many large hotels in this era. Families from the cities of Boston and New York would take a train, and then a steamship across a lake in some cases. And spend the summer. Most of the hotels are gone now, lost to fires and changes in travel trends. But this hotel still exists, I read, although it has been moved to Antrim, New Hampshire. I should go there and draw it in its present form. Maybe next month. I am waiting for the snow to melt.

This large brick building is in Baltimore, Maryland at the corner of North Patterson Park Avenue and Baltimore Street.

When our daughter and her husband first moved into the city to this street, a few years ago, the corner building was missing its turret. But the new owner replaced it! That is unusual and commendable.

The umbrella on the roof deck is just waiting for a summer day. To the far right on the blue slate mansard style roof is an object that looks a little like a clock. Actually, the L-shape is a design in the slate tiles. It must have been the original owner’s initial. When I was a child, (and my last name was Lapierre), I was always looking for Ls in architecture as well as nature. I guess I haven’t changed much.

Across the street from the above building is this unusually large brick edifice. Buildings near parks tend to be showy. The architect did a great job with theme and variation. I love the roof lines.

A class of school children came along while I was drawing. They were singing their way up the street, with a teacher at the front and another at the rear.

I did this drawing in a huge hurry as my husband was packing the car for the trip home to New Hampshire. This white painted brick row house is across the street from our daughter’s house. This is the side view. Built about 1900, it has the common flat, step down roof, covered in tar paper. The dentile molding is a design in the brickwork itself.

A lot of the ornamentation you see is wooden trim edging the cornice. The corner door near the sign has more wooden trim. The owners run the building as a small home day care business. I drew an Easter egg, and made an attempt at the rabbit window decoration.

Spring comes early in Maryland, and in the few days we were there the little newly planted cherry tree popped out into lovely blossoms. The color is quite an intense shade of pink.

I believe this is the original gate to Patterson Park, in Baltimore. We are looking down Lombard Street to the downtown. I like to picture fancy carriages coming between the white marble columns. (There are poles there now to prevent this.)

Notice the children’s drawing. Some one was playing hop-scotch. It was drawn in white chalk, but I had to interpret it as black lines so it would be visible.

New Hampshire

Here is my drawing of Dinner With Jack Frost on the New London town common last month. I drew in pencil by the light of a small reading light clipped to my paper. I added the color at home with colored pencils. It was dark, cold, snowy, and fun. The yellows are bonfires, torches, a street light, and the moon. The right shape is a tent with a live band, the rest are left to right the town hall and the band stand. Children are bundled up and pulled in sleds. Various restaurants offered great food in many locations.

This is me, with my small paper, and small light clipped to the paper. It was dark, but the flash of the camera makes it look quite bright.

And here is a 9” x 12” painting on canvas, based on the pencil drawing. I didn’t try to replicate the grey of the graphite pencil. The winter people were fun to paint, as all had big hands, heads, and feet.

I did this drawing of the Theophilus Stanley Tavern (1791) in Hopkinton very rapidly, as it was extremely cold that day. Many houses in this area are painted white. I chose a yellow one to contrast with the enormous piles of snow along the road. The buildings are made of wood. Next to the tavern which is now a private residence is a nice corner market called the Cracker Barrel. The word cracker means salted biscuit in North America. In times past they were distributed in barrels. Empty barrels were used as tables, so the phrase ‘cracker barrel’ means a gathering place.

After I finished a session as Picture Person in the nearby elementary school (ages 5-10), I stopped here for a coffee. The large multi-paned window offered many views of the world. I like to see red berries in the winter. For birds, they are freeze-dried snacks.

Picture Person is a program of art history, presented as a supplement to the regular curriculum. Right now I meet with a class of seven year olds once a month. We have fun, discussing lofty topics, then drawing. This month, the subject is John James Audubon.

Here we have our front hall. My husband had left early this day while I was still in bed. He kindly left a sign for me. Our house, built in 1972, has lots of glass. The door is all glass and to the left is a floor to ceiling window. The snow shovel is waiting out on the small porch. The snow has drifted over his footprints.

Some days, in a northern climate, you just have to buy a flowering plant for your table. The blue lines behind the plant are icicles hanging from the roof outside the picture window.

This is the view on a cold February day of the old cotton mill in Newmarket. The mill building now houses small businesses and private residences. New Hampshire has a long history of mills and manufacturing, based on water power. The mills closed, lay empty for years, and are now coming back to life, in new forms. The coffee shop, Crackskull's Coffee & Books, has an amazing array of items adorning their walls. Old typewriters, and musical instruments for example. The selection of second-hand books is fine too.

The snow shovel, next to the glass door, awaits the next storm.

I was driving around one day looking for something to draw. I went farther afield than usual, to Canaan near Hanover. I didn’t feel inspired and turned the car around, preparing to return to New London. When I did so, I immediately saw this peak, Mount Cardigan, and was taken by it. Just when I had finished drawing, the two people on snow mobiles zoomed out of the woods and into my art.

I was standing in the street to draw this. In New London, at the corner of Main Street and Pleasant Street, at the blinking light. We are looking at Mount Sunapee, in the nearby town of Newbury. Clearly, it has a ski resort on its slopes. The road was a challenge to draw, as it is roller-coaster in feel and goes way downhill, then uphill and ends at a t-junction. There are houses hidden by the trees. This mountain view is seen from all over town, along with Mount Kearsarge farther east. In the summer time, the ski slopes are green with grass.

One more snowy picture. Here is the view from our upstairs bedroom window. As you can see, our house backs up to a very steep hill. At the top of the hill is an old stone wall, which does indeed constitute that edge of our property. This means sheep were grazed on this very steep hill at one time, in the early 1830’s.

Hard to believe, because of the pitch of the hill, the rockiness, and the fact that the land is completely reforested. There was a sheep boom and bust in this area in the early 1800’s. After the Civil War ended, the area lost half its population. Not through death of soldiers, but by young farmers heading to the mid-west (like Ohio) for an easier farming life. New England life stagnated for a hundred years. I read that in our town, there were almost no homes built between 1840-1940. Which is why it looks appealing now—a harmony of architecture.

I do love the way snow conceals objects. And reveals secrets not seen in the summer.

Maryland, Massachusetts, and France!

This is the central market in Dijon, France, drawn in December 1966. I lived in Dijon for two college semesters when I was twenty years old. From September to June. I took classes at the L'Université de Dijon and earned credits through the University of New Hampshire in Durham. It was the second year of the program and nine of us went. It was one of the most memorable years of my life. I was very pleased to recently find my sketchbooks from that year.

When I was growing up in New England, we bought our food and necessities in a small store or shop. If it was slightly larger, we called it a supermarket. Although some of my family members had gardens and swapped produce around, I had never been to a farmer’s market.

I remember now that I was especially attracted to the bright colors of Dijon’s open air market during the dark season of the year. Every Saturday I walked there, and then wandered in blissful stupification. Open barrels of spices, leading to hand printed kitchen textiles, on to cheap house slippers, then rows of hanging skinned rabbits with just enough fur left for clear identity. The sellers above are hawking piles of fabric and selections of warm coats.

My room was cold. I bought tea, coffee, pastries, cookies, and cheese. I gained twenty pounds. I lost it when the weather warmed up.

In another part of the market are the fruit stalls. Notice the clothing details I carefully included. People are dressed warmly, but formally. Long coats, fur collars, berets, stockings and heels. In the background I drew the ironwork roofs of the Victorian-era covered market.

This market was quite a walk from my room, and I learned almost immediately not to buy more than I could carry for long distances. I came here for the visual and sensory effects, and bought most items closer to my part of town.

I usually ate in the dining hall, as I didn’t really have kitchen privileges.

Here is the a small view of the large indoor market. I love the madames in their stockings and heels and rainhats, and the fleuriste in her rubber boots. I can remember my pleasure in drawing the flowers, the cheeses, not to mention the rows of sausages.

These are a kind of dry sausages called saucissons that don’t need refrigeration. Most are very garlicky and delicious. People buy them to eat on the trains for long journeys. I ate my first one on a train when my compartment seatmates offered me a slice. I was hungry, and thankful.

I have a special fascination with turrets. This one, of cream colored stone, is on a corner behind the Palais Des Ducs, or the Dukes’ Palace. It was built as a private residence, and still is I think. It is on Rue Vannerie, a medieval street in the heart of Dijon.

Dijon is a beautiful city, the capital of Burgundy. The powerful dukes’ lands once included parts of Holland. The dukes were very wealthy. And it shows. Absolutely nothing reminded me of New Hampshire.

This is why I went away from home for a year. It was a year of challenge, awe, growth, mortification (grammatical errors and incorrect vocabulary), daily confusion, and a growing love of travel, history, culture, food, architecture and people. In no particular order.

A turreted rowhouse in Highlandtown, a part of Baltimore. Eastern Avenue. This is a modest sized brick rowhouse. I think the builder (about 1900) added the ambitious flourish of the turret because the street borders Patterson Park. There is always prestige to facing open land.

Every corner house on this street once had such a structure. This is the only one left intact. The rest have lost their hats or roof peaks, and are now flat across the top. Even though I think it misses the mark architecturally, I still like it. It is exuberant.

The two street flags are attempts to entice shoppers to buy locally, rather than head for the large malls, or Ikea. The sign that says ‘Patterson’ was once a theater and is now an art center.

We searched out the Peabody-Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts to take in an exhibit about China.

But this is the room I decided to draw. It is a fascinating mixture of folk art, fine art, craft and painted furniture. Everything in this room had either a neck, feet, or both. It challenged me to figure out why each item was included in the eclectic groupings.

The large pot closest to the eye was done in 2000 I believe. The hanging chicken sign, the paintings and the furniture done in the 1800’s. The treasures were displayed on glass shelving. This is why the silver tea and coffee pot set appears to be walking through space.

The paintings of trained and self taught artists hung side by side. I have never seen this before and it was visually stimulating. I would like to go back to this room. It was a fun house.

I had in mind to go to the Baltimore Museum of Art to see some American porcelain. Well, that room was closed for the day, so I made do with a room full of British lusterware pottery.

As in the last museum, the shelves here are glass. I love this effect of floating objects meshing visually with items in the distance. In the background is an ornately carved chair.

Interestingly, these pitchers (or jugs) have references to the new country of the United States of America. The one with the eagle commemorates the presidency of Thomas Jefferson. The small one at the bottom with the copper luster glaze has a poem on the back about the need for the emancipation of slaves.

So, in the 1800’s, your dinnerware could serve up your political and social beliefs at the same time as your party food.

The Patterson Park Charter School on Baltimore Street in Baltimore, Maryland. The grey building to the left is the massive stone structure of St. Elizabeth of Hungary Church. To the far right are the small brick rowhouses of Belnord Street. I am struck by the strange disharmony of all the differing building styles. On some level, it is this disharmony which makes city life seem interesting and vital.

For many years, we lived not in Baltimore, but in a nearby planned city of Columbia. It was socially innovative, but an architectural snooze.

The school is being expanded which explains the yellow fences and general disorder on the right side of the brick building. I participate in an art fundraiser there each spring.

The cars are drawn even funnier than usual because my hands were so cold.

My artist friend Mary Jo Tydlacka is drawing in her studio in Maryland. I somehow forgot to draw her chair. But the form of her jacket (red with blue lining) draped over it indicates exactly where it is.

She is known for her paintings of outdoor Shakespeare performances, and her images of Ellicott City.

Our daughter Karin is cutting out pattern pieces for a Christmas gift that she will sew. Her iron is on the side of the table ready to press the seams open. The green squares is a cutting board.

I drew her in a sort of see-through version. She is bending forward to pin the heart fabric. You see her back and her pony tail heading straight up. Their living room, with the windows and door, is down some stairs and in the far distance.

I like this drawing. That I have to do this much explaining may mean the composition is not too successful. We could set up a discussion group. Maybe Facebook..., never mind, just kidding.

Lucy, our grand-cat, lives in Baltimore. Here she is in a Zen moment. Sitting in the sunshine, on a yellow pillow, on a blindingly bright orange chair. She is either staring at the back of the chair in a om moment, or shutting her eyes centering herself.

I couldn’t check on this. I had to grab my pencils and draw away. As soon as I finished, she jumped down.

New Hampshire!

The Wilmot Post Office is decorated nicely for the holidays. Besides the garlands and bows, there is a yellow train in the left window. This old wooden building used to include a general store as well. To the left is the recently rebuilt Wilmot Community Center.

The town of Wilmot is rather spread out, but this part of the small town is within 5 miles of our house. For last month’s blog post I drew the library and a mountain view. This month I participated in a craft fair in the red building, and sold cards including this drawing of the post office. And lots of other designs as well. I can turn any of the images on the blog into a card upon request! Contact me if you’re interested.

I keep small paper and drawing supplies in my bag at all times. I am always ready.

I was a printmaker for a long time. I printed etchings and relief prints on a large motorized press. I loved the whole process for decades. Then one day my arms told me that they had had enough of inking each print. I still like the idea of multiples, and now my husband prints reproductions of my drawings on our home HP printer. I do paint again now too.

Our town of New London has about 4,000 residents. We have a wonderful Historical Society. Each December there is an open house in the many buildings.

My favorite is the country store. It is nicely warmed with a wood stove, and serves hot cider, cheese sandwiches and cookies. I drew this decorated window sill in the country store building. I was so taken with its charming arrangement of clove-stuck oranges, pine cones, gingerbread cookies, and evergreens.

I sipped my hot apple cider as I drew. (In the U.S., cider is a non-alcoholic drink, unless otherwise stated.) Mount Sunapee is in the distance. The ground was still bare at this point.

Here is almost bird’s eye view of Mount Kearsarge and Pleasant Lake in New London, NH. I do like to drive up to Morgan Hill to get this panorama. It is fascinating to watch the colors change as the clouds sweep over the terrain, shifting the light constantly.

I hope it is clear that there is a very steep drop to the lake. I think the tops of the tall pine trees indicate that well. There is one little island, called Blueberry Island. Our house is in the woods off to the right, off the edge of the drawing.

One day I saw the firemen rolling out the canvas rink, and filling it with water. A few days later I saw my chance to draw some skaters. The background buildings are: a skate hut (a recent Eagle Scout public service project), the town offices, the band stand gazebo, two brick buildings on the Colby-Sawyer College campus , the town hall of New London, and the Baptist church. The snow has arrived in our hill town.

The tower on the far right is not really quite that tall. It is twice the height of the main part of the church. I left my architectural miscalculation in place. It seems enormous. And a feat for it to remain upright. All the buildings are of wooden construction except the brick ones.

In North American usage, the word ‘college’ means an institution of higher learning, granting undergraduate degrees, such as a Bachelor of Arts. Usually students are ages 18-21. When we lived in England this term caused us much confusion. Our town had a Ladies College, which seemed to mean a very selective high school, ages perhaps 12-18.

This is a toy that my husband played with when he was a child—a Christmas present from an uncle who was really good at picking out that sort of stuff for his only nephew. I got motivated to draw it after drawing a doll last month.

It is a metal steam shovel that is meant to be sat upon. Then you swivel, and pivot the shovel. Last summer we sat on the ground with our 2 year old grandson and watched large machinery like this in operation. Fun for all of us!

If only my father-in-law hadn’t painted it! We know from watching Antiques Roadshow that this greatly reduces the value. Oh well. We enjoy both the American version of the TV show and the original one from England. We lived in England for 3 years, so the show brings back all kinds of fond memories.