moto Maine

I love Maine. The state, the sea, the magazine. Above is my illustration that appears in the August issue for a wellness column about surfing in Maine. Something I’ve always wanted to try, but meanwhile it’s hard enough to squeeze in time for even one hobby, motorcycling.

We like to take moto trips to celebrate our wedding anniversary, and since moving here in ’92 we’ve generally stayed right in Maine, exploring this big ole state. This year we didn’t go far. After a detour to Street Cycles to get new helmets, we stopped back in town at the Blue Spoon for lunch, where I had this lovely backdrop for my sweet GB 500.

We rode down the coast past marshes and shorelines to the Cape Arundel Inn. Arriving a bit soaked by a late afternoon shower, we were nonetheless delighted by the gorgeous gardens and views.

Somebody made sure there was a bouquet of roses awaiting! The best part was having leisure time to draw them the next morning, with sunshine. Thank you, Marty!

Next on the agenda was some art viewing. The Ogunquit Museum of American Art is an amazing destination, perched overlooking Narrow Cove, and surrounded by an unforgettable sculpture garden.

A striking installation by ceramicist Susan Schultz focused on a theme I’ve encountered a lot lately:
what washes up on the beach. In her series called Plastic Ocean, she collects flotsam, then creates porcelain pieces based on actual plastic shapes, and makes sculptures of them.

Here’s a close-up:

Interesting when it’s all one color, a la Nevelson, it captures an unlikely beauty that the real trash does not. As one who walks the beach daily, I find my share of flotsam. I pick it up and put it in the trash bin where it belongs. This artist has a whole different approach, painstaking, altering, and altogether dramatizing.

With whales on my brain, I walked out to the garden and spied this, by Cabot Lyford.

I’m just finishing “The Whale: In Search of the Giants of the Sea” by Philip Hoare. It’s a sobering read, about the centuries of whale hunting, and the current pollution of plastic and sonar that continues to threaten whales. Yet the unseen mystery of whales enthralls me.

The next day, we toured the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge in Wells. It’s a mostly shaded walk along a salt marsh, educational and sublime.

I am mesmerized by the undulations of tidal creeks. This is a pastel I did a couple of years ago, titled “Sanctuary.”

I think I need to do more, based on the vistas preserved in the name of Rachel Carson. But first,
back to the drawing board, and humpbacks.

Also, tomorrow I am reading Seven Days of Daisy for the final program of the Peaks Island Library’s summer reading program. Jellyfish sandwiches, here we come!