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small painting with a large brush
Wednesday, December 24 2025
This morning our neighbor A came over with her kid, her dog Henry, her boyfriend Jamie, and her sister Catherine, the woman Gretchen and I met when we visited St. Petersburg, Floriday last winter. She's the one with the huge pit bull named Ricotta whom she pushes around in a stroller. We all sat around the woodstove drinking coffee and eating pumpkin scones Gretchen had just baked. Jamie was noodling around on Gretchen's guitar for awhile and then tuned up the yukulele I'd bought for $5 at the Tibetan Center thrift store. He was even able to accompany Gretchen on that thing for a bit. But then Gretchen had to go to what would be another manic pre-Christmas shift at the bookstore in Woodstock.
While Gretchen was doing that, I took Charlotte (who had just escorted our visitors back to A's house) for a walk, and again I overheated in my new jacket. I took Charlotte further than usual down the Stick Trail, going even beyond its junction with the Chamomile Headwaters Trail. But at some point I went off-trail headed west. I did this just inside the boundary of a large parcel belonging to the scion of the Gill Family, who'd sold their farmland in the Esopus Valley to Farm Hub. But they also own upland forest tracts, which aren't good for much more than logging or breaking into lots and selling. The plan for this lot seems to be the latter, though it won't be easy, since it isn't easily accessible and will require tens of thousands of dollars to build a driveway and hook up electricity. As an initial gambit in this direction, a narrow right-of-way has apparently been cleared, and I followed it all the way down to the Farm Road, marveling at how expensive it will be to make it driveable.
Back at the house, I did a little more work on the painting I've been putting on that pepper grinder Gretchen will be getting from the holidays, adding a moose and then covering it with two layers of acrylic varnish. Then I decided to paint another painting. Initially the plan was to repaint a photo Gretchen had recently taken of Charlotte. But there was something about it that made it impossible to paint, and, worse yet, her muzzle really needed to reach beyond the edge of the canvas. So I gave up on that, made it into a neutral grey canvas, and painted a picture of Neville. It was based on a photo, but I completely changed his posture in it, making up details for how his belly looks in it. Interestingly, I executed nearly the whole three by four inch painting using a fairly large brush, and I liked the results. Perhaps the unsatisfying nature of a lot of my paintings comes from using a brush that is too small and not sufficiently embracing the happy accidents inherent in painting with a larger brush.
Late this afternoon, I drove to Woodstock to meet Gretchen for dinner. The main drag through Woodstock was closed down for a parade when I arrived, so I had to find my way to near the center of the village via side streets. But I easily found parking. A rock band was playing various tunes from a float designed to look like a sleigh as I walked past on the little diagonal that connects Tinker Street to Old Forge Road on the other side of the village green on my way to the Garden Café, which was crowded. But we had a reservation and a very nice table for two in the corner. The special menu wasn't to my liking at all, so I had the Beyond Burger and the stuffed mushroom appetizer with a glass of Montepulciano. Most of our conversation seemed to be about another fairly minor conflict Gretchen had had with one of her bosses on the subject of paper bags, which stores in New York are supposed to be charging extra for as an environmental measure, one Gretchen very much agrees with.
After dinner, Gretchen and I drove separately back home and then watched the finale of the only season so far of Pluribus. From what I was saying as we watched, Gretchen wondered if perhaps I'd already seen it. So I had to dial that commentary back.
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