Tonight at Wiawaka the lake sound is gently lapping, and Judy (fellow artist) just said she heard a loon call. The pandemonium of last night – fireworks, a literal flotilla of boats, vigorous wake waves, crowd on our dock – are gone.

The view from our balcony at the moment starts with three trees in the foreground – a tall white pine on the left, small balsam hugging it to its right, and a tall dead birch stand-offish on the far right. Beyond them the water is slate gray, the mountains black with little orange twinkles of lights at their base, and the sky starts yellow-orange, fades to a pale green-gray and continues on to a deep indigo. It’s 9:31. A stately little boat passes by.

This morning, my project was a little garden of hydrangeas, ferns and a cement bird bath. Rather than paint quickly, I wanted to draw carefully, since the subject was complicated. (General concurrence here: without a solid drawing, a painting doesn’t stand a chance.) Here’s the result of working on the drawing for most of the day:

swan drawing

I’m taking a bit of a risk by making the top of the bird bath slightly askew, which is true to reality but might not read well in the painting. I like the funkiness of it, but we’ll see if it works in the painting.

Mid-afternoon I took a break from the drawing to paint this mini of a potted plant hanging out next to me in my little watercolor journal.
painting flower pot

And tonight, while we listened to Trevor and Ninah sing on the deck (listen to them at, and read about them at, I did this quick little sketch in my journal of the view from the dock of the  waning day.painting lake

Remarkable experience here. I feel very fortunate.