Last December I had the chance to spend a week painting, writing, and exploring in Port Townsend, WA. We stayed on the third floor of a grand old hotel looking out across Puget Sound to Whidbey Island. I didn’t have to go far looking for interesting subjects to draw or write about, starting with the walls in our room!
The view out our window was something I never tired of. I could watch the people browsing shops on the sidewalk below, the boats coming and going down at the ferry landing, and the birds out on the water and pilings. And then there was the light, ah the light. In the evening the sky became a mix of pink and gold and pale blue, sometimes dotted with a few tiny clouds or spanned by long lines of fog. The water reflected the sky, light blue to pink to gold and then light blue again, broken in places by the rippling dark reflections of the old buildings. The land in between turned a deep blue gray. It was such magic. An artist could spend a lifetime just capturing that same scene as the light transformed it throughout the day.
Inside, the hotel was so quiet, almost otherworldly. All the grand spaces seemed meant to be filled with voices and laughter and movement, yet when I walked through them, I rarely saw another person. One day I passed by one of the large common areas, a room filled with books, a fireplace, and a Christmas tree. They had music from another era playing, the singer’s achingly beautiful voice filling the room and bringing back another time. You could almost see her audience lounging on the sofa or mingling along the shelves, drinks in hand, all eyes turned her way. Just then, an older couple appeared, turning the corner at the top of the wide main staircase. They stopped for a moment to take in the scene, transfixed, just as I was. We all stood frozen for a long moment, watching silently as the scene played out in our imaginations, until eventually the spell was broken, and we smiled as we passed by one another and went on our way. Perhaps someday I will try to paint that moment, but for now words will have to do.
Instead, I spent the week painting a much more down-to-earth subject — tomatoes. The high ceilings and expansive view made for a great setting to let creativity flow, and for me that meant working with lots of bright colors. These two paintings started as rather unexciting watercolors of tomatoes that I marbled over back in the summer to try and spice them up. During the week in Port Townsend, I added to the marbling, using a mix of watercolor and acrylic, and turned them back into tomatoes once again. The painting titles are courtesy of my critique group. Enjoy!
Psychedelic Tomato, 2024, Acrylic & Watercolor, 8 x 6
Tomato Trio, 2024, Acrylic & Watercolor, 8 x 6