|On the dock (r) with friends. Sporting stylish canvas sailor caps |
and bamboo fishing poles. Chris (center) shows her catch.
It was the place, as a child, I'd lay and look through the slats at the cool green water and its fish below. Lamenting the thought of fall's onset, my departure, and school's fast approach.
While painting, I recalled all this: the fresh water smell, the sound of water lapping the posts, the give and sway of the dock.
It occurred to me I haven't seen many wooden docks still in use. It became a worthy subject.
My surprise Valentine: a gift to myself from one who was there. Fond memories revisited in the form of a wooden dock. Maybe I'll paint this way more. And make some folk art assemblages for the show, too.