Where I Come From
We belong to places. We belong to the natural world. We are part of a story that began long before us.
It’s been hard to find much studio time lately. Maine summers have a way of filling every corner of the day, and I’m learning to be okay with that. I’m reminding myself that life supports the art. Sometimes the best thing I can do is live the experiences that will eventually find their way into the work.
So I’ve been stealing little bits of time for small studies with no particular agenda. Painting dogs always makes me happy, so they’ve become a wonderful excuse to play with brushwork, color palettes, and simply enjoy the process.
I finally found time to begin the first sketch in a new series of grandmother portraits. This drawing is my great-grandmother on my mother’s side, Anna Gelhard, and marks the beginning of a larger exploration of the women from both sides of my family.
I’ve gathered old photographs from my mother’s and father’s families, but I’m realizing I don’t want to rush through them. After finishing this first sketch, I think I’d rather spend time with one person at a time. Perhaps several drawings in different media. A few small paintings. Different approaches to the same person. I’d like to live with each portrait for a while and see what happens. I think, for me, it’s really about the attention. The artwork becomes a reason to spend time with one person, to wonder about her life, to notice details, and to imagine her younger self.
I chose this photograph of Anna simply because it made me smile. I was fortunate enough to know her, and drawing her brought back childhood memories. As I worked, I found myself making her a little younger than she appears in the original photograph. I don’t mind that at all. I have very few images of her as a young woman, and in some small way it feels like I’m getting to imagine that version of her. Looking closely at her face, I began thinking about who she was. I always remembered her as impeccably put together. This version feels a little lighter, a little more carefree.
That’s one of the gifts of drawing. You spend so much time looking that the person begins to feel present.
I’m also hoping to sneak in a few paintings inspired by the Maine coast before summer slips away. If I don’t, that’s okay. I’m collecting photographs, making mental notes, and storing away ideas for winter.
So far this summer we’ve enjoyed beautiful boat rides through Eggemoggin Reach and over to Castine. And we’ve been given an unexpected gift: humpback whales feeding in Penobscot Bay. Seeing them surface so close to home, day after day, has been one of those moments that reminds me why paying attention matters.
I hope you’re finding time to enjoy the season too. The work will wait. Summer won’t.
Cheers,
AnneMarie
p.s. I wanted to recommend another Substack I have recently discovered. The Bountiful Path by Dr. Lisa Belisle. I am really enjoying her writing.
What a wonderful way to "spend time" with your ancestors. Love the dog paintings too.
I saw the portrait before I read your substack, knew immediately who the drawing was. My grandmother Gelhard, my father's mother was special to me in many ways, but also we had conflicts. She was an accomplished woman, very involved in USO during the war years and after. Her four sons all served. I miss her and wish we had talked more about her life. Anna Weldon Moore Gelhard, 1898-1993.