The Grand Tour

Welcome

2008-11-14T17:41:00.006-06:00

My on-the-road studio

This blog is no longer active. But I encourage you to read the posts anyway. These posts trace the paintings I made on the road during the time I toured as a singer-songwriter and the stories behind them. I bought my field kit in Holland during the fall of 1996 and used it for all of the paintings on this blog working out of the tiny knapsack pictured above.

These paintings cover some years of my European touring right through to my Walden Pond series in late 1999. You can see paintings from Germany, France, Italy, Monaco, Holland and Belgium as well as the ones I made in South Carolina and New England.

Just browse through the sidebar contents or start from the beginning of the blog and work your way forward.

All of the paintings are for sale and a few are still available as limited edition, signed prints on Arches watercolor paper. You can email me for a list of what's available.

You can listen to and learn more about my songs by visiting my main website where you can also see my more recent watercolors.

Thanks for visiting. Enjoy your browsing and, if you have any questions, feel free to get in touch.

from Original House Site, Walden Pond

2008-10-05T01:15:00.017-05:00

from the Original House Site, Walden Pond
Concord, Massachusetts
3 October 1999
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
Sold in set of all 5 Walden Pond original paintings
$1500 (including USPS Priority Shipping)

After walking around the Pond, I sat myself down in front of the site where Thoreau built his cabin and made this painting. A good way to complete the set. It was a great pleasure to make these paintings and I hope you've enjoyed them. Read Henry David Thoreau's writings when you have a chance. Walden is short and sweet. Visit the Pond if you're in the Boston area. It's well worth the trip and, if you're a swimmer and it's warm enough, it's one of the great swimming experiences.

This post brings my Grand Tour paintings to a close.

Come visit my current painting blog Landscape into Art to see what I'm making now.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Main Beach, Walden Pond

2008-09-28T01:15:00.015-05:00

Main Beach, Walden Pond
Concord, Massachusetts
21 September 1999
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
Sold in set of all 5 Walden Pond original paintings
$1500 (including USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

A personal favorite, I clambered off the trail to make this painting. It was a perfect day and everyone at the Pond knew it. What fun to capture the beach goers in little blobs of color on this Tuesday afternoon in late September. I remember the patience I enlisted to work on this while anticipating making my way back to the other side of the beach where I would, finally, start my swim across.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Thoreau’s Cove, Walden Pond

2008-09-21T01:15:00.010-05:00

Thoreau's Cove, Walden Pond
Concord, Massachusetts
19 September 1999
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
Sold in set of all 5 Walden Pond original paintings
$1500 (including USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

For this view of Thoreau's Cove, I worked my way a little further along the trail around the Pond and settled on a rock at Little Cove. You can see that spot on the Walden Pond Map and how it afforded me a nice view of Thoreau's Cove.

I think this must be called Thoreau's Cove because it is the spot on the Pond directly in front of Thoreau's original house site. I'll have to go re-read Walden, but I imagine that this is where he entered the Pond and probably the reason he selected the site to build his cabin.

Next week, I'll show you the view I painted from Thoreau's original cabin site.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Emerson’s Cliff, Walden Pond

2008-09-14T01:15:00.013-05:00

Emerson's Cliff, Walden Pond
Concord, Massachusetts
5 September 1999
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
Sold in set of all 5 Walden Pond original paintings
$1500 (including USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

When I next returned with my paints to Walden Pond, I was suddenly struck with the idea of working my way around the pond, making paintings of particular sites. I studied the pond map and settled on the better marked points. I had to leave the trail now and then (a no-no) but figured it was for a good cause. Looking at the map again, I notice that I was actually in Lincoln, Massachusetts when I painted this — just over the Concord town line.

Here is a link to a photo of a view from Emerson's Cliff about 100 years ago. Now it is all closed in with trees — I wasn't able to see the pond at all.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Boat Launch, Walden Pond

2008-09-07T01:15:00.020-05:00

Boat Launch, Walden Pond
Concord, Massachusetts
29 August 1999
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
Sold as set of all 5 Walden Pond original paintings
$1500 (including USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

In July of 1999, I moved back to Boston for a little over a year. There, I recorded my Christmas CD, Out Under the Sky and taught my Basic Drawing and Watercolor Workshop almost every weekend through October. As often as I could, I drove out to Walden Pond to swim. Primed from the intensive teaching schedule, I brought my watercolor field kit along and painted, too.

The spot from which I painted the Boat Launch at the Pond is where I would always park my towel and bag before setting out to swim across the Pond and back. It was the perfect place from which to start my watercolor series of Walden Pond.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Tiverton Flowers

2008-08-31T01:15:00.008-05:00

Wild Flowers
Tiverton, Rhode Island
17 July 1999
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
Sold

This painting was made the day after I taught a private workshop on a friend's property in Tiverton, Rhode Island. I had missed my friend's wedding and sending a proper gift. I was so delighted with the results of this painting that I gave it to her and her husband for my long overdue gift. It is one of my favorites.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Folly Beach Sunset

2008-08-24T01:15:00.008-05:00

Folly Beach Sunset
Charleston, South Carolina
June 99
Sold

The fifth, and final, installment of my Folly Beach series. Hope you enjoyed the views!

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Folly Beach Marsh

2008-08-17T01:15:00.011-05:00

Folly Beach Marsh
Charleston, South Carolina
June 99
Sold

The fourth installment in my Folly Beach series.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Folly Beach Inlet

2008-08-10T01:15:00.011-05:00

Folly Beach Inlet
Charleston, South Carolina
June 1999
NFS

The third installment in my Folly Beach series.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Folly Beach Wash

2008-08-03T01:15:00.008-05:00

Folly Beach Wash
Charleston, South Carolina
June 99
Sold

The second installment of my Folly Beach series.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Folly Beach Rocks

2008-07-27T01:15:00.008-05:00

Folly Beach Rocks
Charleston, South Carolina
June 1999
Sold

Before I left Charleston, I made sure to put in some time with my paint kit at Folly Beach. Beginning today and for the following four Sundays, I'll post the sketches I made wandering down the south end of the beach and around to the inlet.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Colonial Lake

2008-07-20T01:15:00.017-05:00

Colonial Lake
Charleston, South Carolina
17 May 1999
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat +; backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

If I had a nickel for every time I walked along Colonial Lake, I'd be rich! I've said it before, and I'm saying it again, one of the great pleasures of living in Charleston was being able to walk just about everywhere. On my way to and from the post office or almost anywhere in a certain direction I would make a complete round of the lake almost daily. The lake is hedged in by pink and white Oleander and often, someone would be fishing in the lake, though God knows for what. One time I saw a man reel in a giant eel. After asking him if he planned to eat it (no), I suggested that he might want to put the eel back in the water. I'll never forget the look in the eel's eyes as it was being yanked out of the lake.

One of my favorite stops between the lake and the post office on Broad Street at Savage was Burbage's Self-Serve Grocery where Mr. Robert Burbage was usually having a smoke at the register or making use of the broom. Because that man always had something really interesting (or funny) to say, I would often just go in to say hello and gab with him a while then buy one of his extremely rich broccoli cakes to eat for no good reason except to add a bunch of calories to my system.

I'm not sure if I burned enough calories walking around the lake to burn off my Burbage treat but I enjoyed the walk and made this painting as a memento for myself.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

St. Michael's Steeple

2008-07-13T01:15:00.002-05:00

St. Michael’s Steeple
Charleston, South Carolina
6 May 99
Sold

This is the twin to the St. Phillip's Steeple in last week's post. I made several paintings of St. Michael's, another National Historic Landmark, while in Charleston. Most notably was the one for the cover of my Christmas CD Out Under the Sky. That album originated from my performances on King Street for the city during the Christmas season. So many people asked me for a Christmas album that I decided to make one. At the beginning of the project, I thought I'd name it Carols from (or for) the Holy City but the eventual title (from the folk song I Wonder as I Wander ) won out in the end. Anyway, by the time I made the album, I'd moved from the Holy City.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

St. Phillip's Steeple

2008-07-06T01:15:00.003-05:00

St. Phillip’s Steeple
Charleston, South Carolina
1 May 99
Watercolor on Legion Aquarelle
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
Sold

Charleston, South Carolina is known as the Holy City because, if you look across the city skyline, you'll see an inordinate amount of steeples — all distinctive — sitting atop an abundance of churches. St. Phillip's Church is a national landmark and the oldest Anglican congregation south of Virginia.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

The Four Corners of Law

2008-06-29T01:15:00.005-05:00

The Four Corners of Law
Charleston, South Carolina
23 April 99
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
Sold

For the life of me, I cannot remember where I sat when I painted this but I must have wrangled my way into someone's upstairs window though I seem to remember sitting outside. In any event, this painting depicts an unusual view of the Four Corners of Law (named by Robert Ripley as in, Believe it or Not!).

The Four Corners of Law describes the intersection of Broad and Meeting Streets where you can pick up your mail (at the Post Office), pay your taxes (at the County Courthouse), buy your marriage license (at City Hall) and get married (at St. Michael's). In this painting you can see the roofs of all but City Hall, which sits to the left of the picture plane.

Because I had a mail box at the Post Office, I walked to this corner almost every day — one of my daily delights of living in Charleston.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

James Island

2008-06-22T01:15:00.004-05:00

James Island
South Carolina
21 November 98
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

As I had several good friends who lived on James Island and had to drive down the island to get to Folly Beach, I spent a lot of time there. It is, after all, part of Charleston proper anyway.

This painting is a glimpse of what I passed on a stretch of Folly Road on my way out to the beach. I must have pulled the car over one day around sunset when I had my field kit with me.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Sullivan's Island

2008-06-15T01:15:00.003-05:00

Morning Storm near Fort Moultrie
Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina
16 July 98
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 195 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

During the summer of 1998, I volunteered to scout for Sea Turtle nests on Sullivan's Island. I think I spotted one or two new nests over that summer. Sullivan's Island, Isle of Palms, Folly Beach and Kiawah all have Sea Turtle protection programs. Click on the link to learn more about Sea Turtles and the protection programs.

I brought my field kit out with me one day and sat down near Fort Moultrie to paint this after my scout walk as a storm was coming or going.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Kiawah Island Nature Center

2008-06-08T15:50:00.003-05:00

Kiawah Nature Center
Kiawah Island, South Carolina
Summer 98
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
Sold

I made this painting after class one day in the heat of a summer afternoon. This shows the back entrance of the Heron Park Nature Center at Kiawah Island where I first taught my Basic Drawing and Watercolor classes.

Another painting with no pencil. During this time in Charleston, I was also teaching after school classes in architectural drawing, watercolor, and guitar at Ashley Hall where I eventually taught a sixth grade music class for one year. I did a couple of watercolors of the beautiful campus that the school purchased, alas, before scanners were readily at hand. But I will show below one more painting I made on Kiawah as a demo in class that demonstrated my release from pencil and signified a development in my ability.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Kiawah Island Beach

2008-06-01T03:15:00.004-05:00

Kiawah Island Beach
Kiawah Island, South Carolina
Summer 98
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
Sold

I can't remember exactly how it all came together, but I was hired to teach weekly drawing and watercolor classes to guests at the Kiawah Island Resort. I could not have asked for a better way to workshop a class. The guests ranged in age from 10 years to 80+ with as wide a variety of backgrounds. We had a wonderful variety of scenes to draw and paint including this scene looking south from the board walk.

I looked forward to the beautiful and serene drive each Wednesday, down to Kiawah Island from Charleston. My two hour drawing class began at 8 AM at picnic tables on a deck surrounded by Cabbage Palms. Often, an entirely new group would meet for watercolor class from 10:30 to 12:30. After four hours of teaching, I'd eat some lunch, make a little painting (if I had it in me) and then take a nice swim and walk north of the stretch of beach shown in this painting.

One very important thing about this painting is that I left the pencil out of the equation. This was a natural result of my teaching and doing demos in class. For the longest time, I'd felt as though I was leaning way too hard on draughtsmanship in my paintings. Finally, I'd learned to fly solo with watercolors.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Charles Towne Landing

2008-05-25T03:00:00.004-05:00

Charles Towne Landing
Charleston, South Carolina
18 January 98
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

During the time I lived in Charleston, my friend, Carol, was the educational director at Charles Towne Landing so I made more trips to this destination than I might otherwise have. On most of my visits I spent the majority of my time at the Animal Forest which is where I made this painting of a crippled Great Blue Heron. Like this heron, many of the birds in the forest were injured, rescued, rehabilitated and given this safe home where they live out their natural lives.

In the Animal Forest I witnessed one of the most magical things I've ever seen. As I was walking along a wooded path, I watched a group of Black Bears lumber up to the fence that separates their area from that of the Red Wolves. As I came to the fence line, I saw a group of red wolves walking up to the same spot on the other side of the fence line. I paused and watched as the leader of each group walked up to the fence and sat down, very calmly on their respective sides of the fence, facing each other. The rest of the bears sat behind their leader as the wolves sat behind theirs. Observing the scene, I sensed a tremendous emanation of intelligence and nobility. I don't know how the interaction of wolves and bears works in the wild but this scene was remarkable and one I will always remember.

I noticed that the red wolves are no longer listed in the Animal Forest at Charles Towne Landing. I also noticed that Sewee Center at the Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge in nearby Awendaw is a refuge for the Red Wolf so maybe they were relocated there.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

City Hall

2008-05-18T12:56:00.004-05:00

City Hall
Charleston, South Carolina
4 January 1998
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat+ backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

Living on the Charleston, South Carolina Peninsula was a very pleasant experience, especially because I love to walk and could get myself almost everywhere necessary on foot. Charleston City Hall is across from the downtown Post Office (another historic building) where I held a mail box so I looked at the pale pink marble edifice almost every day.

While I lived in Charleston, Carol Ezell-Gilson, a very dear friend and wonderful painter, managed the art gallery of historic paintings in the Council Chambers on the second floor of city hall so I often tromped up the exterior and interior flights of stairs to visit her. Just across the hall from the art gallery sat Mayor Riley in his office. Mayor Joseph P. Riley, Jr. has now been the elected mayor of Charleston for 33 years. Really, that must be the record in the U.S., if not the world! If you click on the link via his name, you can see a photo of City Hall, the interior of the gallery my friend managed and a photo of Mayor Riley.

Another pleasant feature of life in the Charleston was the weather. I stood outside and painted this in early January with no uncomfortable memories whatsoever.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Folly Beach House

2008-05-11T03:15:00.004-05:00

Folly Beach House
South Carolina
23 December1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

It's been a long time since I was last in Charleston so I'm not sure if this house is still standing. When I lived there, this was one of the last beach front houses on Folly Beach remaining from the pre-Hurricane Hugo era. it seemed like a very comfy, old-timey place with the last stand of palmettos on the beach front. The house was my personal Folly Beach landmark because there was a small public parking lot along side it with a board walk leading to a good spot on the beach. Each time I pulled into the lot, I had a feeling of coming home. Part of that was arriving at the beach but part had to do with the feel of the house.

As you can see by the date, I painted this two days before Christmas. At some point in the painting, I dropped my tiny brush into the sand between the open steps leading down from the boardwalk and spent considerable time digging around for it. Found it, rinsed it off and got back to work.

I never saw anyone going in or out of the house and was never quite sure if it was used and, if so, how often. I am sure that in it's heyday, it housed some happy campers with sandy feet and salty hair. If I continue to muse on the place, I'll start longing for the beach...

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Angel Oak

2008-05-04T03:15:00.003-05:00

Angel Oak
John’s Island, South Carolina
17 November 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

Back to Charleston after the tour. I was finally able to get the keys to the apartment, paint the interior and, wonder of wonders, move in. Once settled, I started hustling work performing in restaurants and hotels and making short excursions to perform elsewhere. My idea was to try to work locally as much as possible. It had been clear for some time that touring was not good for my well-being.

In the meanwhile, I took Charleston to heart, examining every bit I could.

Early on, I visited Angel Oak Tree with paint kit in hand. A massive structure, I remember sitting back a bit, trying to take it all in. But no matter how many times I started the underlying drawing, I could only seem to capture a section of the tree so finally surrendered and painted just that, a section. After having looked at the painting over the years, I feel as though I must have been sitting just under the tree within its branches.

Touted as the oldest living thing east of the Mississippi, maybe the venerable magic of the tree naturally envelopes its visitors.

Be sure to visit The Tree if you're ever in the Charleston area. It's a one of a kind experience.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Eindhoven Roses

2008-04-27T03:15:00.004-05:00

St. Rochusstraat 37
Eindhoven, Netherlands
2 October 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

This was painted my second year staying at Ad and Ankie's apartment in Eindhoven where many, many fellow singer songwriters have been hosted and a number of beautiful albums have been recorded and produced.

The light is exceptional in this 3rd floor room and I'm afraid that I came nowhere near to capturing in this little painting the way the light played on the roses. Determined to paint something, I included in this little arrangement a small teddy bear given to me once by a club owner who insisted that the bear must go on tour with me. That very moment, I placed the bear in my guitar case where he lived throughout my touring years.

I think of this painting as the beginning of my working relationship with Ankie Keultjes who is largely responsible for my albums Ephemera and The Glory. She also beautifully produced and performed on The Watchman (Ad van Meur's) albums.

Most of old Eindhoven was destroyed during bombings in the 2nd World War so, though the city was established at least by the end of the 12th century, it has a very modern feel. There's an enclosed graveyard near St. Rochustraat with a large wall listing columns of names of people (some entire families) that were killed in a terrible Allied bombing. (See A Bridge Too Far for a good description of the ridiculousness of war and its tragic mishaps.)

Eindhoven also boasts the largest park of any city in The Netherlands. This park includes a theater, lake, organic farm, prehistoric village, stream, walking paths, gardens, aviary and more. Fortunately, Ad and Ankie live about two blocks from the park and I spent at lot of time walking there, often with Blaue the Border Collie (and a well-worn frisbee).

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Be sure to visit my other blogs where you can see my current paintings, sketches and posts on art and life.

My songs and CDs

Rathaus from across the Mach See

2008-04-20T03:15:00.003-05:00

Rathaus from across the Mach See
Hanover, Germany
9 October 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

The short version of this story is that I'd performed in Dresden at some weird spot decorated as a 1950's Americana Diner with disco balls. I'd picked up a bug on my way to Hamburg and by the time I arrived in Dresden, my voice was almost gone. I pleaded with the booker but he pleaded back and my sense of wanting to fulfill my obligation won out. So I played and sang as much as I could until I had no voice left at all at which point I was able to go to the hotel where I broke into a full-blown fever with all the drama of chills and shakes and sweats and I won't go into any more detail.

The next day, my agent invited me back to her place in Hanover to recover. I tossed and turned in her guest bed (or maybe she put me in her own bed and moved herself to the living room - I forget now) for a few days and finally had to get out of the apartment and into the air. So I did and took my paints with me and walked to this man made lake then followed the trail around. I think that Hitler had the lake built and on the beautifully overgrown landscaped trails around it, there are sculptures of fine examples of Aryan youth in vibrant poses of strength and health.

It was chilly and windy but I settled down for a bit to paint this and am glad that I did. It's just about all I remember seeing of Hanover!

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Along the Rhine

2008-04-13T03:15:00.003-05:00

Along the Rhine
Germany
28 September 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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In Köln I played at a basement club referred to by the owner as a puke hole. I think it was mainly a punk club but I played completely unplugged and could have heard a pin drop. I was relaxed and the gig was fun though the spots were blinding. George, the owner hosted me overnight in his apartment with a fabulous view of the spires and Dom, the old tithe house and Cologne-Rodenkirchen suspension bridge. After a good breakfast he put me on the train down to Heindenheim.

I think the ICE train along the Rhine was called the Friedrich Schiller. I'd been on the route before and would travel it again. Good thing because it was really a delight to watch the castles, vineyards and little towns slip by. Although I made this painting in one sitting, I was traveling on a high-speed line (ICE) so it was a composite of several scenes flying by.

When I arrived in Heidenheim I learned that my agent had neglected to make arrangements for a room but everyone was very kind and someone came up with a solution. I performed by a large poster of an American Indian with a quote of a Cree Indian prophecy:

"After the last tree has been cut down
Only after the last river has been poisoned
Only after the last fish has been caught
Only then will you find that money cannot be eaten."

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Offenberg, Germany

2008-04-06T03:15:00.003-05:00

Offenberg, Germany
26 September 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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On a beautiful morning after a delightful night performing in the Gasthaus Schwabenhans (I'm not exactly sure where), I took a walk in Haslach along the edge of the Black Forest where the air was fragrant, flowers spilled out of boxes at every charming window and at least eighty percent of the people I passed were outfitted for serious hiking in Lederhosen, good shoes, thick socks and sporty hats.

I was given a lift up to the Offenberg train station and, with a couple of hours to wait, walked around in the very hot sun until I spied these black swans on a milky green waterway. I sort of remember being slightly hung over and was probably dehydrated so the railing I worked on was welcome support. Studying the shade over the water kept me cool. Though I thought the painting was a bit rough in execution, it was charming in its own way and gave me a sense of accomplishment before heading up to Köln for a concert that night.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

from Rue de L'Orient

2008-03-30T03:15:00.003-05:00

from Rue de L’Orient
Bruxelles, Belgium
21 September 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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This was the first and last thing I saw on the way in and out of Europe my first two tours (although I'm sure the crane was not up the whole time). In fact, I first arrived in the dark so this was my first view of Europe from Monique and Arnaud's apartment on the Rue de L'Orient. I painted this just before taking the train up to Eindhoven for the beginning of my 1997 tour.

I am so fortunate to have such dear and generous friends in Brussels who always met me at the airport, provided a warm bed and bath after landing and before take-off, and an open, family welcome on each visit. Visiting with them each year (and then with their new addition, Ignaz) became such a regular part of my life for a while, that I sorely missed them when I quit the touring. They loved and accepted me through jet lag, head colds, awkward disorientation and crankiness.

The life of an independent traveling musician is largely strung together between the ports of these sorts of households along the road. Monique and I were friends long before I ever started to tour and when I went over to Europe, we had the opportunity to reconnect after many years, her husband and I became acquainted (he's a darling) and I was able to meet their new baby and see him grow into a young boy.

The people who open their homes to musicians do a great service by making certain kinds of live musical performance viable in a world where such activity is becoming increasingly rare and difficult. I'll take this opportunity to thank each and every one of the many, many lovely people who hosted me throughout the U.S. and Europe during my touring years. It was a privilege to be invited into the private domains of strangers and make acquaintances in p.j.s over breakfast and to learn a bit about their lives.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Dunes in Bloom

2008-03-23T20:33:00.004-05:00

Dunes in Bloom
Isle of Palms, South Carolina
28 August 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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There is nothing quite like coming upon sand dunes in full flower. These dunes lined the path to the Isle of Palms beach where the little pink house sat.

All things considered, even though my life was in flux and I was making do out of a suitcase in strange temporary quarters preparing for another European tour, I was a quick drive to a very nice beach and that alone made all the difference. That, and my little box of paints.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Isle of Palms

2008-03-16T03:15:00.004-05:00

Isle of Palms
South Carolina
17 August 1997
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat + backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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From about 1985 through 1990, I painted architectural portraits on commission, mostly of homes. I take a lot of pleasure in drawing and painting houses.

In 1985, beginning with a study made for a mother's day card, I painted the small Mediterranean Revival house where I lived in Sarasota, Florida. That became the prototype for a larger project over the following year. I selected twelve examples of different historic residential architectural styles from the city's master site file, hunted them down, made a watercolor of each, did research on the buildings, architects and early residents, then wrote up my findings. All this just happened to coincide with Sarasota's centennial celebrations so I was able to conclude the project with a show of the paintings and research blurbs at City Hall and later, at Northern Trust Bank. Within a year of my project, three of the buildings were demolished.

During my limbo period in Mount Pleasant, as I explored the stretch from my temporary quarters to the nearest beach, I scouted good painting subjects and spotted this brand new, pretty little house on the beach at Isle of Palm. This was the first house built on a particular stretch of beach that had been decimated by Hurricane Hugo in 1989. Soon, it was hemmed in on both sides by other new houses.

Snee Farm

2008-03-09T22:16:00.005-05:00

Snee Farm
Mount Pleasant, South Carolina
16 August 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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I had to move from Tamworth, there was no question about that.

At some point, early in 1997, I was performing a gig or two in Charleston, South Carolina and was invited to give a presentation on songwriting at the Charleston Writers Conference. I did a lot of walking around Charleston and fell in love with the place. Who wouldn't?

During the conference I met an administrator at the College of Charleston who rented out the semi-detached back section of her home on the Peninsula and suddenly there was a plan in place. We agreed on a date. I packed up and drove down only to discover that my new landlord had changed the date and arranged for me to rent a room from a friend in Mount Pleasant. So I unloaded my U-Haul into said friend's garage and moved into a small room with a bath in a lovely home with a lovely host. From there, I would head out to my second European tour but in the meanwhile, suspended, unsettled, I explored and connected as best I could.

The house where I stayed in Mount Pleasant was in a development on what was once the Snee Farm Plantation where the early American politician, Charles Pinckney built a house in 1754.

After recovering from the landing and unloading and having somewhat oriented myself, I threw my paints in the car one day and pulled over not far from the house and made this painting on a part of Boone Hall Creek as an afternoon storm rolled in. The longer I worked on it, the darker the sky, the more I had to work to capture the darkening sky until I finally realized that the painting would turn black if I didn't quit while I was ahead. That or be drenched by the storm.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Walden Pond

2008-03-02T01:15:00.003-06:00

Walden Pond
Concord, Massachusetts
29 June 1997
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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I can say without question that my favorite thing about living in the Boston area was driving out Route 2 to Concord, parking the car off Walden Street, grabbing my towel, padding down the road to the beach at Walden Pond and swimming across to the far shore and back.

I'm a swimmer since a very early age and I can definitely say that there is nothing in the world like swimming across this pond, inhaling the deeply fragrant woods and listening to the commuter train rattle past on occasion. Upon reaching the center of the pond, I'd roll around, enjoying the feeling of space and depth. Any fatigue at the end was mitigated by the sense of accomplishing the very long lap.

This view is from just off the main beach which is usually where I parked my towel. I painted it after one very long lap.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Week's Pond

2008-02-24T19:02:00.003-06:00

Weeks Pond
Belmont, Massachusetts
25 June 1997
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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In June, I spent some time back at Anchor East in Watertown which lies directly next to the comfortable and sedately charming town of Belmont.

Whenever I was in or near Belmont and had the time, I would park off Pleasant Street, walk up Somerset then cut off down an unmarked path to Week's Pond. I have no idea how I first found my way there. I probably just risked the cut through the woods. Week's Pond is part of the Mass Audubon Society's Habitat Wildlife Sanctuary though separated from the main acreage by private properties.

I've never learned the history of Week's Pond but would guess that it was part of a private property donated to the Mass Audubon Society at some point. It's quite hidden away, home to many, many bullfrogs and species of plants that may have been planted in the 1920's or 30's, definitely before 1940. There's a little island in the center of the pond where I would not be surprised to find fairies in residence.

During high season, you can not only see the ripples through the water made by vibrations of frog songs, you can feel them right through your own internal organs.

Week's Pond is a little bit of land, not a very long walk from the road, through the paths, around the pond and back again, but at any time of year, it's a magical place.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Victim

2008-02-17T08:46:00.003-06:00

Victim
Tamworth, New Hampshire
8 June 1997
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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Just after painting the violets shown in last week's post, there was a familiar flurry of chaos in the house. One of the cats had captured yet another chipmunk for tortuous play. I managed to rescue quite a few of these feline playthings but alas, this one was doomed, but immortalized!

A companion piece for Quinn, a percentage of the proceeds from this painting will go to HSUS, The Humane Society of the United States.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Violets

2008-02-10T06:30:00.002-06:00

Violets
Tamworth, New Hampshire
8 June 1997
Watercolor on hot press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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Surrounded by nature, almost always within sight of Mount Chocorua, I fell in love with Tamworth, New Hampshire where the heavens shone clear at night. Unfortunately, the living situation there turned out to be impossible and it was just as well that I worked on tour during most of that time. I traveled for what I thought would have been the snow season but returned in March just in time for several feet. On April 1st, I left Boston as a few flakes were falling and arrived in Tamworth, driving 2 mph up the Chinook Trail in full white out conditions. I was never so relieved to pull into a garage. I learned to love the snow and even discovered an untapped passion for shoveling!

Spring came very late and, when the violets finally popped up, I put a few aside after weeding for this painting.

The song I wrote that winter (with a nod to P.B. Shelley and Conrad Aiken) captures an essence of my Tamworth experience.

This song is featured on my Ephemera album and can be purchased through cdbaby.com or downloaded through

West Wind

West Wind sang September night
accompanied by the leaves in flight
stirred the birches with a solemn rub
teased the clouds across the moon above

Caught me in its fragrant air
stung my eyes, played with my hair
brought the first frost of the year
Winter is near
Winter is near

I listened to the lyrics of the song
the words were clear and the meaning strong
In darkness they declared the mighty rule
no thing would dare to fight

The garden could not disobey
the warm air, the birds flew away
the hunters killed all that remained
The weather changed
The weather changed

Silent snow descends and comforts the cold, hard ground
Secret snow encircles me with an oath unbound

A fist of gust against my face
pushed me into the saddest place
across the freezing season line
and there a voice roared through my mind

“Take me in like I am your breath
Like I am your lover, like I am your death
I will instruct and you will learn
The lessons are hard but worthy to earn

I will teach you to stand alone
How to walk tall with a strong backbone
How to greet your enemy on the road
How to heal your weakness and atone”

Silent snow descends and comforts the cold, hard ground
Secret snow encircles me with an oath unbound

I built a snow girl in the wilderness
I formed and smoothed the icy mess
Up to my knees in a creamy drift
I stood alone in the flaky mist

And I stood alone in my little life
and all I could see was white on white
and all I could hear was the singing wind
bitter cold but my closest friend

Silent snow descends and comforts the cold, hard ground
Secret snow encircles me with an oath unbound

Spring shall come again
Spring shall come again

©1997 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP) (STIM)
All Rights Reserved

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Quinn

2008-02-03T23:34:00.003-06:00

Quinn
Tamworth, New Hampshire
6 May 1997
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4 x 6", archival mat & backing to 8 x 10"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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If you've been following this story from the beginning, you'll know that I lost my beloved cat, Willi while I was on tour in Europe. He wandered into the New Hampshire woods one dark and stormy night, never to be seen again. When I finally returned, I immediately papered the White Mountains with Lost Cat fliers. A woman who had found a stray resembling Willi’s photograph called and invited me over to see the cat. He wasn’t Willi but he was exceptional. I brought him home, named him Quinn and discovered that, like Willi, he played a mean game of fetch and retrieve. In this portrait, I captured Quinn with a superball, his favorite fetch toy.

Quinn became my walking partner while we were together. At first, he could only accompany me a short distance into the woods or up the mountainside. But after some conditioning, he built up his cardiovascular system and was soon by my side for good long walks.

A portion of the sale of this painting and the prints of this painting will be donated to Save Our Strays, a marvelous no-kill rescue organization in St. Petersburg, Florida.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Anchor East

2008-01-27T21:51:00.004-06:00

Anchor East
Watertown, Massachusetts
26 December 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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The rest of my European tour was interesting but cold. From the edge of the Mediterranean, I moved up to the icy peaks of Switzerland. I think that my favorite gig was in Thun where I played at the very hip Club Mokka. On stage with me, amongst other intriguing items, was a large 1950's television set with a flying saucer floating inside the cabinet. I thought this was rather exciting because I'd written The Roswell Incident the previous summer and it served as a good visual aid to help set up the song.

After my last gig at the Rattlesnake Saloon in Munich, I was finally through. One day, I'll have to write about the places I've played. Each one was a story in itself. Anyway, I was driven, no, rocketed up the autobahn to the airport where I began my long journey home. Ah, but if only it were home. In fact, it was a rented room in someone else's house. If you've been reading since the beginnings of this tale, you'll remember that all was not well on the home front. At the end of the days it took to get back, between the bus stop and the house itself, I was informed that my initial upset at losing the second of my cats (the first had disappeared just before I left) was unwarranted because it was, after all, just a cat, and that it would probably be best if I looked for another place to live. I had only actually been in the house for six weeks before leaving for Europe and it was now just before Christmas.

So, for Christmas, I went down to Watertown, just outside of Boston, where I was graciously hosted by my friends Mark and Kit at Anchor East, Mark's musical home. Of course, I showed them the paintings I'd made and one afternoon, Kit asked if she could watch me paint. I don't think that I'd ever made an entire painting with someone watching over my shoulder but I was game and set myself up by the piano in the living room (where Mark hosted many wonderful house concerts by many wonderful musicians), and got to work. By the time I finished, it was almost dark and I could barely see the painting.

Three years later, I lived in this house for half a year. I recorded my Christmas album Out Under the Sky at the bottom of these stairs. The acoustics were marvelous and I recorded late at night when it was quiet and city noise was least likely to interfere. There was a Japanese student living up the street while I was there. She was studying English in Cambridge and we'd pass on the street regularly and promise to make dinner together and finally did. After dinner, I played her a little of the album and she said "I have heard this music! In my dreams!" I didn't realize that the whole neighborhood could hear me recording — which is just as well. I'm glad we didn't hear any complaints!

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Antibes Juan-les-Pins

2008-01-20T19:42:00.004-06:00

Antibes
France
1 December 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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This was my last day on the Côte d'Azur and, as you can see, a glorious day it was. I spent the afternoon in Antibes Juan-les-Pins where I ate lunch and wandered aimlessly around the old town. I poked into Heidi's English Bookshop, found the most wonderful lavender oil at a little street market and walked by the Musée Picasso which was, you guessed it, closed. Finally, I settled down on the sea wall where I watched some old men play bocce ball before pulling out my paint kit.

After an enjoyable session, I was very pleased with the results — especially with the way the pigment and water formed a perfect ear for the little dog, and with the yellow color of the walls (one of which is the Picasso Museum) against the blue sky. The old men broke from their game and a few came over to look at my work. They looked, laughed and told me "This is a very famous scene! Hundreds and hundreds of people come here and paint that exact same scene over and over again." I replied, in English, "Yes! But they don't have your friend and his dog in their paintings, do they?" This is my favorite painting of all which makes sense because it came after making one after another almost every day for about two weeks. Practice is the way.

Making these paintings saved me from the despair of loneliness and provided me with activity and purpose when I might otherwise have become terribly lost. The painting was also planting a seed that would help me find my way through this touring singer-songwriter lifestyle. As I read back through my notes from this time, it is clear that I knew from early on that the incessant traveling and lack of stability was extremely unhealthy for me but I was in it up to my neck and had four more recording projects ahead of me.

The next morning, after checking out of the Hôtel Pastoral, Monsieur Noël Dumas walked with me, helping to carry my bags, to the train station. I really should have taken a photo of him and Jasmine, his cat. He was very dear and made me feel perfectly comfortable.

Then it was on to the last leg of my tour, through Chur, Domat/Ems and Thun, Switzerland, then Langenau and Munich, Germany before returning to my darling friends in Brussels who have always generously provided me with comfortable, homey landing and take-off accommodations for my European tours.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Bust of Jean Cocteau

2008-01-13T21:25:00.004-06:00

Bust of Jean Cocteau
(before la Chapelle St. Pierre)
Villefranche sur Mer, France
28 November 96
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
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On the 27th, I hopped the train to Eze. The train stops at Eze Bord de Mer, right on the sea. Not really knowing where I was going (sound familiar?), I looked for some tourist information. The kiosk was closed so I looked around and spied a small sign that said "Chemin de Nietzsche". Ok, I thought, I'll walk the trail. It looked like it might head up to the main village of Eze. It was a very nice walk although I must have turned off the trail at a certain point because suddenly I was in the brambles and climbing a very steep incline. I looked back and was surprised at the height I'd reached. It seemed closer for me to reach the top then to head back down so I continued up the rough terrain. Finally I reached the back patio of a restaurant, turned around and realized that I'd just climbed a cliff! No wonder I was so beat. I wandered around the very interesting, very old stone village and finally collapsed for some lunch. All I wanted to do was hop back on the train, get back to the hotel and lay down. This was not a day for painting. When I went in search of a bus to ride back down to the sea, I learned that no buses were running till May. May? Taxi? No taxis here! So I walked all the way back down to the train station. By road that time. I was tired but it was a lovely day (once out of the wind at the top of the cliff), the streets were pleasant and the view, fabulous.

The next day was Thanksgiving. Alone, even on the Riviera on a beautiful, sunny day, I was feeling pretty low. I bought a copy of the International Herald Tribune (which I read every day in Nice) and headed to Villefranche sur Mer where there was a chapel that Jean Cocteau had painted. I was disappointed but not surprised to find that la Chapelle St. Pierre was closed for the month of November. So I sat down in the little stone courtyard next to the chapel on the edge of the sea and made this painting of the bronze bust fine coated with verdigris. Old women sat nearby on the sea wall repairing big fishing nets. The sun danced on the sea. It really did. A lumbering Golden Retriever splashed through the waves on the sandy beach behind me. I thought about Cocteau.

The painting did not lift my spirits that day which really added to my woe. How can I be sitting on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea on a magnificent day like today, I thought, and have my head and heart lost inside a black cloud? I swung my legs over the edge of the sea wall and glanced through the Herald Tribune. My eyes fell on an Art Buchwaldcolumn, Le Grand Thanksgiving. I read it. I laughed out loud. What good medicine! I was lifted out of the shadows and very grateful. When I got back to the states, I wrote Buchwald a letter telling him the story and included a CD. He wrote me back a very nice note thanking me for the CD and for telling me what was going on in my life. "I'm glad I could make you feel good." he wrote.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Maritime Alps

2008-01-06T19:32:00.004-06:00

Maritime Alps from Pointe de Bacon
Cap d’Antibes, France
26 November 96
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in. x 6in., archivally matted & backed to 8 x 10
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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On the 25th I woke to a rainy day in Nice and decided to head up to Digne, the lavender capital of the world. I could live without lavender but life would not be quite as sweet. Lavender is simply one of the greatest treasures of my life experience so you know I was looking forward to visiting the place where the best lavender is grown. Even though it was November and the lavender was harvested in August.

I boarded the Chemin de fer early in the morning and off we went on one of the most rickety train rides I've ever taken. But it was fun and, as we ascended, snow began to fall. I didn't realize that I was headed into the mountains (another instance of deciding to head off to a destination with no plan whatsoever) but up we climbed and down the snow came. The landscape, the vistas, the snow were all beautiful and the rickety ride was sort of fun. By the time we got to Digne, I was ready to move my legs and see some sights but the snow had turned into freezing rain and the roads and sidewalks were all cold and slushy.

I was beginning to get the idea that if everyone in Paris heads to the south in August, everyone in the south closes shop in November. The tourist office in Digne was closed so I ducked into some little cafe and bought the single most expensive cup of tea ever. The café seemed to be the only shop that was open. I realized that lavender fields were out of the question. I had the address of Alexandra David-Néel's house and headed off to find that. All I managed to find were many, many puddles and suddenly it was time to head back for the train. Once on board, I took my soaking shoes and socks off and placed them over the baseboard radiators for the entire, miserably cold and wet ride back to Nice. Oh, well, I thought. I tried.

The next day, brisk but bright and beautiful, I set off for Antibes (again, with no plan). After coffee and a biscuit, I set off for a walk, having no idea where I was going. As it turns out, I walked the length of Cap d'Antibes. Fortunately. I did not walk around the entire shoreline but even the length of the peninsula was a hike albeit a lovely hike. I could find no place to stop and rest so, when I came upon a rocky outcropping, I sat myself there for a painting session looking back in towards the main coastline. As I worked on the foothills and mountains in the painting, I suddenly realized that I was looking at the first snowfall of the year in the Maritime Alps. The snow that had fallen as I climbed to Digne the day before.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Tombeau Grosso

2007-12-30T19:28:00.004-06:00

Tombeau de Famille Francois Grosso (1894)
Nice, France
24 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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After a stroll along the Promenade des Anglais on a sunny day, so brilliant it was almost blinding, I climbed the steps of the Colline du Chateau, a lovely park that rises from the sea to a magnificent view of the Baie des Anges. On the way up, I stopped by the Bellanda Tower and tried to read what the plaque there said about Hector Berlioz but could not translate it. [However, as Werner Pfarr points out in his comment, you can read the plaque translation on the Bellanda Tower link.]

At the very top of the park, I wandered through two cemeteries. I think that one was a Jewish cemetery and the other was filled with tombstones of angels. The largest angel statue was of the famille François Grosso. The engraving on the tomb described François Grosso as a prominent civic leader (there is a Boulevard named for him) who lost two young children within a year of each other. The statue shows an angel with a finger to her lips, reminding the cherubs to not disturb the children they are carrying up to heaven.

I fussed with the color of the sky back at my hotel room until I could not take it any further, then headed out to the Cathedral Notre Dame Saveur to hear a performance of the Bruckner Mass.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Palais Princier

2007-12-16T19:25:00.004-06:00

Palais Princier
Monaco
23 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
6 x 4", archival mat & backing to 10 x 8"
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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I am increasingly reluctant to write this posts. Not to post the paintings, mind you, but to write the stories behind them. I suppose that any sort of looking back has its own set of hesitancies. One part of me thinks that stories should be somehow cheerful or filled with interaction and plot and so forth. Why? Those sorts are rarely the stories I fall into as a reader. And what stories would those be, anyway? (I'll stop on that track now before riding away on the train of digression).

In fact, this solo touring was just that, solitary. And I was not in a very strong emotional state, quite the opposite. I felt isolated, bereft and worried. The settling in Nice for a couple of weeks took away the daily rush and distraction of travel and performance and I was left to settle into my own not very ebullient psyche. Of course, this was exacerbated by the fact that I was in a foreign country surrounded by the babble of a foreign tongue (perhaps the only time you will hear the fine language of French referred to such). At another time, even at another time of year, I may have easily slid in and out of relationships and semblances of conversation with residents and fellow travelers. But not that November.

Still, even bobbing up and down in my own little sea of depression, I managed to pull myself out of the lumpy bed each morning, pack my paints, look at the map and decide where to travel to explore and paint. Emerging from the hotel, I would keep an eye out for a coffee and brioche on my way to the train station. It was fabulous, really. With the Eurail pass I'd bought for touring, I was able to hop on the little train at Nice and be off to any destination I would feel like up and down the Côte d'Azur. What a treat. On this day, I picked Monaco, where Grace Kelly became a princess.

Kelly was a big name in Philadelphia where I grew up. Grace Kelly's father owned a big Brickworks and her brother was a city councilman. Both John Sr. and Jr. rowed on the Schuylkill River for the Vesper Boat Club where some of my high school friends competed "all together". My father was not in Vespers but rowed single skull on the Schuylkill for years.

I first walked down to Monte Carlo but it seemed shuttered and barren. So back up the steps to the palace. Monaco felt like a toy kingdom, diminutive and clean. In fact, I really didn't get the whole picture of Monaco. The day became increasingly raw and overcast and I'd read nothing and made no preparations for the visit, I'd only packed my paints. I could say that about each day really — I mostly let the painting lead me. The painting kept me company and gave me purpose.

Before the wind came up and temperature dropped any further, I opened my knapsack and set the paper block on a parapet along the city wall. Just as in Grasse, eventually my fingers were frozen stiff so I packed up and finished the painting back in my hotel room.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Vieux Grasse

2007-12-16T19:17:00.004-06:00

Vieux Grasse from l’escalier de L’Hotel de Ville
France
21 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in x 6in, archivally matted & backed to 8in x 10in
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

On my first full day in Nice, I took a bus up to Grasse, the perfume capital of the world. Before the perfume industry fell to products that smell like embalming fluid and every Tom, Dick & Harry had their own signature scent, I used to enjoy memorizing perfume scents and being able to identify them out in the world. Most perfumes developed in the last quarter century give me a brutal headache.

I thought it would be fun to tour the perfume factories in Grasse. Fragonard was the only one open and their tour was interesting enough, especially because we were able to gather around the perfume organ where the "Nose" sits to test the scents. You can visit the beautiful new International Perfume Musuem site and sniff around for yourself.

After that I kicked around and ate lunch in a garden looking out from high up over the Côte d'Azur, then kicked around some more beginning to feel bored with isolation until I found myself in the old city where the walls of the buildings were rubbed deep with rose and orange and yellow and peach. After climbing an old narrow staircase, I turned to find the perfect vantage point to study the Place de la Poissonnerie. Although I was out of the sunlight, the temperature was dropping, and the wind whipped around the stone walls, I pulled out my paint sack and started in to this one. At a certain point, I had to stop because my fingers were so stiff with cold that I was having trouble working. I seem to remember shaking a bit, too. So I finished this off back at the hotel room later in the afternoon and into the evening.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Nice

2007-12-09T22:26:00.004-06:00

Nice, France
30 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in. x 6in., archivally matted & backed to 8 x 10
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

It was a long night of a train ride from Milan to Nice in a very cozy compartment where every possible sleeping spot was filled. Lots of interruptions by border guards checking passports as we crossed from Italy into France then from France into Monaco and back into France again. I'd had cancellations and a gap in my tour for ten days so I decided to base myself in Nice for that period. After arrival I found my way to the tourism desk where I asked for the most acceptable, least expensive accomomdations. The two lovely women there said they had just the place and sent me off to the Hôtel Pastoral on the rue Assalit. I walked over and met Monsieur Noël Dumas who would be my host for the next two weeks. My room was perfectly simple with a sink and bidet, armoire and chair by the French windows looking over the roof where Monsieur Dumas hung his laundry by pots of bright red geraniums. The bed was sort of lumpy and sagged deeply in the middle but hey, for $14 a night in Nice, I was happy. Not only that, Monsieur Dumas had a bird. I couldn't quite figure out what kind of bird it was but every morning it whistled La Marseillaise. I kid you not. Monsieur Dumas said "He ees a nationaliste!"

After dumping my bags and guitar in the room, I took myself out for a walk down to the sea. Bleary and a little sick from lack of sleep, I walked along the sea wall that wraps around the cliff you can see above. Delighting in the windy sea air I inhaled deeply just as I saw a humongous wave rise over the wall. It happened so fast there was nothing I could do but let it wash over me. And wash over me it did! Even my good Patagonia jacket could not protect me. It was such an outrageous thing to happen that I had to laugh! I was just across the street from an elegant hotel and in I sloshed with my sopping blue jeans, socks and sneakers, rivulets of water streaming off my hair. The concierge took one look at me and immediately passed a stack of lush white towels across the desk directing me to the rest room. That helped enough to get me back to the hotel without leaving a river in my wake.

As I sat down to breakfast the next morning and opened the Nice Matin, there on the front page under the headline was a photograph of some other poor fool about to be creamed by a wave in the same spot where I'd stood. I no longer felt like a freak.

I'm posting this painting out of order for the sake of the story. I made this on my next to last day in Nice when, after procrastinating much of the day, I forced myself to sit down where I happened to find myself on the beach.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Firenze

2007-12-02T11:51:00.004-06:00

Firenze, Italy
17 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in. x 6in., archivally matted & backed to 8 x 10
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

I stayed in Tuscany for a few nights. Mostly, it was very confusing and exhausting because mostly, no one I met spoke English and my agent had neglected to arrange for me to be met at the train station or for proper accommodation. In one instance, I boarded the wrong train going in the opposite direction of my destination. There was a lot of talking myself down from intermittent panic attacks and carrying on as best I could when I really needed a good, uninterrupted night's sleep.

One night I stayed at some sort of country hotel although hotel might not be the best word. It felt more like an empty convent. Very bare bones with cold terrazzo floors. The woman who hosted me did not speak English but I managed to understand from our conversation that in June and July, the place hosted children from Byelo-Russia who had been poisoned from Chernobyl. You can learn more at The Chernobyl Project and about these children through one of the rescue organization sites . That conversation put my mild discomfort into perspective. I took Pipo, the resident dog for a walk at dusk through the Tuscan hills. Then I was carted off to some incredibly loud and raucous bar where I was set up on the floor in the middle of the place. I could not hear myself think let alone sing but there was a crowd seated on the ground and standing around me paying rapt attention so I did my thing and ripped up my poor voice in the process.

The next day, I was off to Bologna for a radio interview and record store performance. I knew the DJ who'd set that up and he spoke English so it was good to visit and the day went pretty well. The DJ used excerpts from my CD for the interview to save my tattered voice. The most memorable thing about that day was the memorial in the waiting room at the train station for the Bologna Massacre. The effective memorial incorporates a massive crack in the wall and the hole that was left in the floor by the blast.

For the other nights I stayed on a Biodynamic farm at a Rudolph Steiner community. That was right up my alley. It was beautiful and interesting and the people were great — not to mention the food.

I was so close to Florence that as soon as I finished my duties and before I had to go on to the next gig, somehow, I got myself there. I don't know what day it was but not long after I arrived I discovered that the museums were closing at noon or one. I managed to duck into some Medici room and am embarrassed to say that I can't remember what that was. And somehow, I managed to convince the guard to let me just run through part of the Uffizi. That was sort of ridiculous because I really did not even have time to orient myself before I had to run out again.

The day was raw and rainy so I just walked myself across the Arne, leaned against the river wall and painted this picture as the skies gave way to a little late afternoon sun. It was an o.k. way to contemplate Brunelleschi at a bit of a distance, away from the long lines to get a look inside.

Before I left Italy, I performed at a fabulous folk club in Udine where everything — the audience, the host, the food, the room, the vibe — was exceptional. I also managed to run around Venice for a long afternoon on a day when the water was at its lowest mark in years. I'll go back there any time.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Vasto

2007-11-25T12:19:00.004-06:00

Vasto, Italy
14 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in. x 6in., archivally matted & backed to 8 x 10
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
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Vasto was like Brigadoon. A place out of time with a little bit of magic or historic curiosity around each bend. This ancient city has never been developed because it's built on a cliff subject to landslides. In the above painting, you can see one historic curiosity where the new and the old city walls attach with two different types of arches. Through this opening you are looking south past Vasto Marina, into the Adriatic mist.

If you missed last Sunday's installment, go to Amico in Vasto and Vasto Marina to read the first two parts of the story and hear my song on the experience.

Lino Salvatorelli was my host. He'd booked me into the Teatro Rossetti named for the poet and revolutionary, Gabriel Rossetti who, upon losing his cause, fled his birthplace of Vasto for England where his two children, Christina and Dante Gabriel were raised. It was a lovely evening in an old, old theater. As no one I met in Vasto spoke English, most of the audience had no idea what I was saying or singing but we enjoyed ourselves. Having spent the first couple weeks of this tour in the former East Germany where most people only spoke German or Russian, I was getting used to the scenario.

Lino owned a CD store called Kangaroo. He took me on a tour of the city and because everyone knew Lino, I met a lot of people, ate some great food and finished the tour at his friend Franco's sign making and sculpture studio. After Franco saw the paintings I'd made so far, he found me before I departed and sent me off with a gift of 4 pans of Lukas watercolors all wrapped up in tin foil. A very sweet and encouraging gesture.

It was difficult to leave Vasto but I was on to the next gigs in Tuscany, Bologna, Udina and so forth. I took the train north along the Adriatic coast and leaned out my open window watching the old beaches and beach towns slip by, wanting to stop at each place.

I left a piece of my heart in Vasto.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Amico in Vasto

2007-11-18T11:49:00.008-06:00

Amico in Vasto, Italy
13 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in. x 6in., archivally matted & backed to 8 x 10

I headed north up the beach till I stopped and sat down with my back against a big overturned row boat. There I made the Vasto Marina painting I posted last week. When I finished, I continued in the same direction to the end of the beach.

A large, white dog came down from the rocks and over to greet me at about the same time a man brought a dog on a leash towards me from another direction. As soon as the white dog had sniffed and licked my hand, he turned, bared his teeth at the leashed dog and both started barking and making threatening noises. Oh, Great!, I thought. Trapped on an Italian beach in the middle of a dog fight. The leashed dog was led away by his laughing master. The white dog came to my side and would not leave no matter what.

I did not want to get involved with another animal and when we got back to the overturned rowboat, I sat down. The dog lay down beside me and went to sleep. After a few minutes, I stood up very quietly and headed back towards the apartment. A few hundred yards up the beach I looked back just in time to see him emerge from the other side of the row boat looking in every direction. He spotted me and high tailed it in my direction. Except for the time I spent in the apartment, he did not leave my side for the next three days. I tried to bring him up at night but he was a confirmed outside dog and at night lay down in front of the apartment entrance where he greeted me first thing each morning.

I surrendered to his companionship because, after all, I really needed it. He was my friend, so I named him Amico. Language was not a problem. Eventually, I learned that he was a Pastore Abruzzese, a regional dog bred from ancient lineage specifically to guard sheep in the Abruzzi mountains. Naturally, I became quite attached and was heartbroken to leave him at the Marina beach when it was time for me to go up and perform in Vasto. Our little tryst inspired a song.

Listen to the song

Amico in Vasto
(Pastore Abruzzese)

I freaked out in Verona
boarded the south bound train
my head was split with anger
and my heart was dulled with pain

Some fool had to leave a message
that my best friend ran away
the home I thought was anchored
floated off to yesterday

Lost and alone
so far from anything familiar
there was no one I could talk with
to relieve myself

Crazy with grief
the new moon cast everything in darkness
I tossed weightless in the strange air
like an autumn leaf

I arrived on the feast of San Martino
when the grapes turn into wine
it was summer in November
as the sun began to climb

The wind flew dry off the Adriatic
I was beckoned by the blue
I walked down to where the coastline changed
and that's where I met you

You ran to my side
as if you'd been waiting for my arrival
you leaned into my legs
as if you'd come back home

When I looked in your eyes
I could see that your love had found its mission
you were my guardian out of heaven
on a three day loan

Pastore Abruzzese
Amico, my Amico in Vasto

We stood in the waves and got sandy
I painted a picture of you
we climbed the palace steps together
and panted at the view

I bought you bones and cheeses
and I fed you at the fountains
I followed your gaze to the crescent moon
as it rose above the mountains

Steadfast and sure
you gave me the company I needed
and the unconditional love
that asks for nothing in return

I don't know where you came from
but I'm grateful that you found me
you saved a wandering soul
from drowning in the dark

Pastore Abruzzese
Amico, my Amico in Vasto

Where would you go when I left town
who would put food out for you
would you find some new soul you could shepherd
would they love you like I do

On the morning I was leaving
you appeared shampooed and shining
on a rope beside a young boy
who would love you like I do

Steadfast and sure
you gave me the company I needed
and the unconditional love
that asks for nothing in return

I don't know where you came from
but I'm grateful that you found me
you saved a wandering soul
from drowning in the dark

Pastore Abruzzese
Amico, my Amico in Vasto

©1997 Suzanne McDermott/Drexel Road Music (ASCAP/STIM) All Rights Reserved

For everything you might want to know about Pastori Abruzezzi, visit Marco Petrella.

A few years later, I told a bit of this story and sang the song for some nursing home residents in Philadelphia. Afterwards, one of the women grabbed my forearm and asked, "So? Did you bring the young man home with you?"

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Vasto Marina

2007-11-11T12:13:00.004-06:00

Vasto Marina, Italy
12 November 96
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

So, there I was in Pesina, with a few days before my next gig, drinking too much Italian table wine. The TV was always on in the kitchen. As the ancient neighbor made the morning Polenta, fetching newscasters interrupted Sissy Spacek and Whoppi Goldberg spouting fluent Italian in The Long Walk Home to advise of a pending rail strike. My host and Italian agent insisted that I immediately board the next train to my next gig.

Before I knew it, I was jostling along on the Italian rail system. After lots of personal space in the 1st class compartments on the orderly German trains, I was now shoulder to shoulder with chatty, freely gesturing compartment-mates. Not that I had any idea what they were chatting and gesturing about. The corridors were packed. We were rattling south along the Adriatic Coast but night had fallen and I had no idea what scenes were flashing past the window. It was a long ride with a lot of Italian coming at me and I accompanied myself with two glasses of wine. By the time I arrived in Vasto, it was very late and I was very weary. I had no idea who was supposed to meet me or where I was supposed to stay.

A very kind man found me at the station and while I couldn't understand a word of what he said, I went along with him. He took me to a bar with loud music, which did not help me understand the situation any better, and there we met some people who apparently discussed and decided what to do with me. I was driven to an apartment complex, let into an apartment and told something... I had no idea what.

Early the next morning, I woke up slightly hung over, wondering just what in the hell I thought I was doing. In the throes of despondent emotional thrashing about exacerbated by allergic reaction to histamine and alcohol, I happened to look out the window. Wait a minute! What's that? It's the beach and the ocean! I was out the door in seconds flat, not even checking for a landmark to find my way back. I was on the beach. My feet were in the sea. That was all that mattered.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

La Rocca, Pesina, Italy

2007-11-04T11:41:00.008-06:00

La Rocca, Pesina, Italy
10 November 1996
Watercolor on cold press Lana paper
4in x 6in, archivally matted & backed to 8in x 10in
US$ 295 (includes USPS Priority Shipping)
Email me to purchase

From Alkmaar, I traveled through Germany, night after night for a good three weeks. Most of those dates were in the former East and it was all very interesting and each stop in Jena, Weimar, Bautzen, Dresden and the rest was a story in itself. Finally, I left the order, clocks and chill of Germany (which I was becoming accustomed to) and boarded the train past Kufstein and the jade green Inn River, the darkened Alps, to Milano and then to Verona where I was met by Donato and Marina LaRocca. Donato, Marina, their full-grown son, my guitar, large suitcase packed with CDs and I crammed into their tiny car with Donato at the wheel and raced off (and I do mean raced) down the ancient narrow, curving roads up towards Lake Garda. I was already exhausted and now unnerved by the ride.

Not in the house ten minutes, Donato called that there was a message for me on the answering machine. I climbed the dark, narrow stairs and found my way into the unlit office, figured out how to work the answering machine and finally listened to the message. It was my roommate telling me, rather briskly, that my cat of seven years had disappeared into the White Mountains of New Hampshire one dark and stormy night. Sorry, she said, there was nothing she could do. And that was it. Between the incessant traveling, my exhaustion from the long journey of that particular day, the first year anniversary of my mother's death and the simple fact that this roommate did not call upon the sense god gave her to not leave such information on an answering machine in another country, well, I just freaked right out and began a head first plunge into a rather serious depression. Not the best start for the Italian leg of my tour. And being suddenly unable to control the flow of tears did not make me the best dinner companion but, somehow I managed to fulfill all of my performance obligations with a very good front, pro that I was. Everyone was very kind. Bob Neuwirth came to visit the day after I arrived and he sat and gabbed with me as I made the above painting of Donato and Marina's house. Later we split the bill at my house concert there. Of all people on earth, Bob was a good choice to show up at that particular moment.

My great fortune was that in my hands I held the tools for my recovery — the new little paintbox and watercolor pad. Those and a magical encounter, just around the bend.

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized posts by working your way up from the bottom.

Alkmaar

2007-10-28T11:35:00.003-05:00

It's Sunday and, as promised, it's time for my tour paintings post. Rather than start right off with the first of this series, I thought that I'd set the scene with my preliminary venture. I may be new to the painting blogosphere but my little secret (no longer) is that I've been at postcard (size) paintings for exactly eleven years.

Towards the beginning of my first European tour as a singer-songwriter, I performed at Atlantis in Alkmaar, Netherlands. Not too long before that, I'd landed in Brussels with a fresh head cold and was already exhausted from dragging around a suitcase filled with CDs, my trusty guitar on my back, and, as I was on my own except for the club folks, audiences and occasional host, lonely.

With plenty of time before catching the train to my next gig in Nijmegen, I took advantage of the gorgeous October day and walked around Alkmaar, enjoying the architecture and remnants of the Cheese Market. Turning a corner, I discovered the marvelous Theo Groothuizen where I bought a Winsor Newton field kit, small watercolor block and sketch pad. This morning, I dug out my journals from those tours and found this entry dated:

"16 October 1996. ...Bought field box of watercolors. Sat on bank of canal and made tiny sketch of house that caught my eye yesterday. Great fun. Got covered with little green bugs from tree I was sitting under..."

As long as I'm setting the scene, let me show you the studio that served me for a decade.

Closed:

Open:

A slightly later addition without which I could not work — a selection from my fine, old linen napkin collection:

If you go to Diary of a Studio you can watch as my present studio emerges. But for ten good years, I painted everything out of this little knapsack. Stay tuned for Sunday postings where I'll share many of them with you.

Alkmaar, Netherlands
16 October 1996
Watercolor and Pencil on sketch paper
available to select collector of Tour paintings

Every Sunday I post a new painting and story behind the watercolors I made while touring as a singer songwriter. Follow the stories behind the paintings of these serialized post by working your way up from the bottom. (This post is the bottom!)