Leaving Alden Pond

This morning in the beautiful warm sunshine, I walked slowly to the pond to say goodbye. Another thing to love about J. Alden Weir is that the man built this pond when he sold a painting. More later. Have miles to go today. Thanks to all the people and the rocks and the trees and the creatures that made this such a rich experience.

Take Five

This is a three and a half year old I met at the Brubeck Brothers concert yesterday afternoon. The concert was a fundraiser for Weir Farm Art Center and the crowds came rolling in with picnics and chairs.

Anaia is a sweetie pie for sure, and, get this - she's the great granddaughter of Dave Brubeck, who lives in Wilton and had lots of kids - five sons, one daughter - many of whom play jazz like their dad.

I love her matter of factness and that bow at the center of her dress.

Wired Landscape

Okay, so this was a fun Friday afternoon. I was allowed into the mesmerizing old wire factory in the town of Georgetown. A massive place. Can't imagine how many souls once worked here. Hundreds if not more.

I loved the urban/industrial scene....wreckage and smashed windows and brick containing nothing but air and rusted debris. The forest is beautiful, but so is this landscape of a time past.

This image is a view through a hole in a window, which is a subject I could build an entire show around.

Dreamy

This patch of beauty hid like a secret by a gravel driveway. I discovered it during an afternoon visit to a nearby garden I'd had my eye on since arriving two weeks ago. I was surprised by how many magnificent grasses were planted here and there.

The Neighborhood

This is a beautiful neighborhood. No doubt about that.

Tonight I enjoyed an easy dinner with a lovely woman I met when she was out walking and asked if I wanted to join her. She knows herons well and when she said how much she liked this image my spirit soared.

Thank you Adair. You lift me.

Stardella

Another reason to love J. Alden Weir - he nailed metal stars like this one to the ceiling of his studio.I love the show of time here, the star and the shadow of the star. Time present and time past moving in tandem.

The other day chatting with two National Park Service rangers here, Allison and Cassie, we all confessed to having a crush on J. Alden Weir. They both became a little wowed when I mentioned that upstairs in my cottage there's a life-sized photograph of Alden standing on the land, palette and paintbrush in hand.

"It's a nerdy historical figure kind of crush," Cassie laughed, "but we can't help it."

No, no we can't.

Discovery

This is the beginning a series that's exciting. More to be unveiled, but I am exhausted in the best way possible. So much creativity and newness and excitement. I woke up at 4 this morning just thinking and thinking about working with the woman suggested here.

After the Rain

This morning I was sitting at the desk, drinking coffee, writing a few things down. I paused. I looked out the window and realized I was doing the exact wrong thing. It was time to get out the door and into the morning light that shimmered with the heavy rains that fell overnight.

Within 30 seconds, I stripped off the nightgown, grabbed the nearest clothes, snatched my camera, and ran like I was trying to catch a train about to leave the station.

That little tree in the foreground is part of what I'm playing with right now. I tend to be a little too neat and fussy, and the forest, let's face it, is neither and is helping me to have fun getting a little messy.

Life is Still

Okay, I finally found some models up in these here hills. They were good collaborators and seem to get along well. Like a family on vacation.

Formality

There is still some spring in the fall up here in the elegant quarters of lower New England.

Today was bright and in the low 70s and I swam outdoors in a 50 meter pool. A heated pool. I thought about aiming for a mile, but then I just didn't want to count laps. I hate keeping track of numbers when there's sky and water, movement and breath.

The lifeguard said the bubble goes up over the pool Saturday.

For Real

This is a funny little moment that looks like Disney. Did I ever say I wanted to "shoot" wildlife?
Nope, but that's happening here and there. Fur real.

A Tone of Memory

I've been reading interviews with one of my favorite photographers, Sarah Moon. She's incredible and inventive and darkly romantic.

When asked about her images in color and black and white, she said something I really like:

"I feel that black and white has the tonality of introspection...it's imprecise because it's more about feeling than image. It's probably a tone of memory. Color is a more open language."

Nod Hill Road

Walking down the street where I now live temporarily, Nod Hill Road, I spotted a rare dash of color in the sea of green and brown. I played with the depth of field, a la Keith Carter, and felt pretty happy with the dangle and the blur.

I will post the black and white version, which I think I'm liking more, though that circle of cherry red is kind of irresistible.

Inspiring Aldens

There is so much to say. To begin with, I consider my greatgrandmother, Ada Alden, to be an abiding inspiration. My creed is wonder is just a thumbnail of that great Ada wisdom.

Now there's another Alden in my life. The man for whom my artist in residency is named, J. Alden Weir. Weir was an academic American painter who traveled to France for five years of study. While there, he saw a radical show by the then-unnamed group later known far and wide as the Impressionists. He hated them. In fact, he walked out of their show within fifteen minutes.

The work was too loose. Too undisciplined. Slightly primitive.

Well, jump cut forward by about ten years. Weir returns to New England, barters for this big plot of land in Wilton, Connecticut, and begins painting outdoors in the forests and hills that make up his parcel of paradise. Voila, he discovers impressionism - American style.

Looking at this pond today, it's easy to see how such a conversion occurred.

Disorientation

Exploring the forest and wild of Weir Farm is disorienting. There's the National Park Service area, the Ridgefield open land, and the Weir pasture - to name three entities that make up this vast expanse of unspoiled property.

I am set up in the newly created studio (I am only the 4th artist to use it) and have all the machines humming. Next, I will begin. This image suggests movement. I await mine with curiosity.

Into the Wild

I'm heading into the wildness soon. It may not look like this Virginia forest where I spent a lovely part of the Labor Day weekend, but it will be a tangle of possibilities, a web of light and dark.

This image reminds me of a funny little thing that happened this summer when I showed my sister-in-law tons of new work. There was a long period of silent looking. The portfolio book was closed. Finally she said, "So, you don't shoot trees anymore?"

Every time I remember that line, it makes me laugh. These trees are for my beloved Pam.

Mad Discipline

Well, here's a woman to know. Mary Ann Zotto. I had a great conversation with her during a memorable interview a couple of years ago. We are still talking. It is still memorable. Each time.

Here's an excerpt.

DG: What quality do you admire in other artists?
MAZ: Insatiable curiosity.
DG: Which artists do you admire?
MAZ: People like Walter Anderson, who are completely mad and irrevocably disciplined at the same time.