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A Momentary Opening
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This tiny cut was a fresh one.  It opened up during an all-night storm off Hird Island in Southeast Georgia a few years back. I discovered it on an early morning solo boat run around the island.

There’s always new stuff to see after a storm. Little landmarks move, stuff floats in… and new opportunities open up.  Most of them don’t stay around long in a marsh environment, but you learn to use them while you can.  It’s an opportunity to get farther in – or farther out – than you’ve been before… to see an old familiar place from a brand new angle… and to experience how you feel in that place.  It’s a lesson I learned as a kid boating and exploring in the Keys and in the Everglades, and one I try to bring into the rest of my life now… off the water. Unexpected opportunities are great gifts. Try never to pass one up.

Summons
Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded.

 

Reading, writing and painting.
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I often find as much inspiration for painting in words as I do in the world around me. Sometimes mine, sometimes others. The 48x48 peice to the right was born of Robert Francis' poem Summons. I read it at a time when I was hoping someone would wake me too. It hit hard enough to start this painting. The poem is hand scrawled under the paint - first touch of brush to canvas.

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All images and artwork, © 2005-2015, Douglas T. Foltz

Waiting Again
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These two have started a new series for me.  Coastal birds are, without a doubt, the coolest birds in the world.  Incredibly specialized, intense – and big.  They seem to have a great work ethic - though I’m sure every landlocked robin or black-capped chickadee takes offense. The coastal world is just a little more harsh and requires a bit more from the folks that live there.  They’re also the first messenger – the furthest billboard  - I encounter when I’m water-bound.  You see them before most anything else…. as if they’ve come to let you know you're on the right track.  These guys however, are little bored, all out in their breeding plumage with just each other - just waiting – again.

Learning to look Both Ways
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The title really was the thought on this one.  Looking both ways – forward and backward (left and right is the easy stuff!) – is pretty nice.  Where you been, where you going… usually lots of good things in both directions.  We tend to get focused on one or the other and forget to use them both together – connect the two.

On the water – particularly around the marshes – it can be really important… not just in terms of a deeper, more whole experience, but in simply getting home! Sometimes knowing where you’ve been is the only way to figure our where you want to be going.

Tuning The Rig ..........................................................................
Have been a way for a while... not from painting, just from this page. Had to take a little time to strip things down... let go of the details and get a little more absract. It's essential to the soul that from time to time we look a little less outward and a little more inward - spend some energy Tuning The Rig.

Tuning the Rig - 14"x18" - study for a larger piece... skyward, under sail.

Hide and Seek l & ll
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Creating a piece for very specific place is always an honor... and a challenge. This pair, at 5x9 feet each, sit behind furniture, opposite each other in a room created by freind and designer Phillip Sides. Drawn from a poem by Galway Kinnell, the panels depict two complementary scenes - positive and negative space - form a grove of trees where I imagine the poet would have played out his game.

Hide-and-Seek 1933
by Galway Kinnell

Once when we were playing
hide-and-seek and it was time
to go home, the rest gave up
on the game before it was done
and forgot I was still hiding.
I remained hidden as a matter
of honor until the moon rose.

Hide and Seek l and ll, The Evans Residence
Northwest Florida.
Images from the September 2012 Issue of
Traditional Home Magazine

 

Haven
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We all need one once in while. This one comes to mind as we approach summer.
One of my favorite spots in Maine.

48x72, Oil on Canvas

Roots (Easterly) - Coming Home #26
[ Oil on canvas, 48" x 48" ]

The space that was your clear opportunity - your fuel to feather a little further out - begets a solitude ... always and only filled with a familiar need for things familiar. And you suspend, for just a moment of a moment... and then you push your grip as far as your arm will reach. You come about. Distance narrows a new view of the horizon. Contrast and color slides just slightly... and the sky rolls out before you. Your course marked... known... and purpose is renewed with a warm, creeping joy that knows no deadline. A new limit has been set, and... temporarily satisfied with this search, focus moves from aft to fore and all that only moments ago was newly found, is suddenly secondary to what was earlier left behind. Now... you are coming home.