We head up early to the lighthouse. I have been looking forward to this; it is a wonderful vantage point to see the entire town, and I suspect a great place to take in the sunset. Stan has made arrangements for the gear to come up in a small truck. I venture up the hill ahead of everyone and meet the gear and begin setting up, eager to start.
We all paint in a near vicinity; Stan does a "starting" demo on t'other side of the lighthouse and we watch. The strangest thing happens: someone, a tourist, comes 'round the building, says, "if any of you are set up painting over here, there is a seagull going after your paints." We all rush around and, indeed, a seagull has pulled all the paints out of Roderick's bag and has punctured the Indian Yellow; mercifully, it is in a plastic bag, but it is everywhere.
An hour later, I have stepped over to see how Cindy was progressing, and seemingly the same seagull has gotten into my bag, and is dragging away all of my paints in a plastic bag. I aggressively shoo it away, and discover that it has punctured my cadmium yellow, which is now everywhere, in its baggie. The clean up. No longer on friendly terms, I have a foe. It's every man or seagull for himself. Weirdest thing I have ever heard of; later that afternoon, I will hear a story that Monhegan artist, Kevin Beers, had relayed a similar story, seagull getting into his yellow. It's worth a study, I tell you, what is that all about?
Mid-afternoon the history center and art museum open for business and everyone has a break to view the many Monhegan artists on display. No Don Stone represented as you have to be a dead artist to be included. So they won't have his work for some time. It takes me only about half an hour to get through, but I still am excited to continue painting, and fired up seeing all this glorious artwork. I have decided to use tuneage today, and have my MP3 player and am listening to Peter Gabriel's "New Blood" which is perfect for top of the hill inspiration.
Later, people begin trailing back to town but I stay and begin another painting of the overlook, anticipating a sensational sunset. I get to a stopping place (I no longer can see anything as I am squinting directly into a vanishing sun), so decide to hike back to town the long way, by way of White Head, and Gull Rock. Wow!
Yesterday, we had ventured to Lobster Cove. There on the point sits the incredible Jamie Wyeth house, originally build by Rockwell Kent in the 20's, I believe. It's tough going, I have brought too much gear, including the wheel cart and the path is steep, full of rocks and crags. So I make several trips just to get gear out to the point, an exercise in frustration. It's extremely windy and I will be in direct sun all day. On goes the sunblock. Up goes the umbrella. Fifteen minutes later, still setting up, the umbrella and entire easel catches a gush and over it goes, spilling all of its contents, including canvas, into a pocket of trapped sea water. Well, this is fun. I re-set, no umbrella. All good, let's go. I decide to work big and loose. 16 x 20" and the subject is "Christmas Cove." I will learn later that there is a tremendous painting by Jay Hall Connaway of same. Again, I walk in the shadows of the greats.
Tomorrow is a free paint day to do whatever we like. We will lose two of our group to home, Joanne and Elaine. Joanne and her husband have a place in the Caribbean near St Martin's and said to me, if ever in the area, stop in to paint. Deal. I was able to enjoy a few slices of pizza with the group night before and really a swell bunch of people. All in all, a very good day.