Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Oh My Gosh Corner might be the most famous piece of road up here in these parts, but the one that gets to me is about halfway along the access road where you veer a bit to the right, hit a little rise up and into a view of the mountain that really lets you know what kind of a day you're going to have up there - and "Holy Oh Shit" blows out of your mouth like a freight train, leaving you gasping for mercy.
Holy Oh Shit Corner • 8"x8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
I've driven the same stretch of Route 27 for about a quarter of my life now. It's not bad as roads go once you get past Augusta. The Belgrade Lakes region is lovely, as are the fields of working dairy farms through Farmington. The intervale running beside the Carrabassett River before you get to Kingfield is unique in this state as is the drive north along the river and up through the valley with its rolling ridges and some of Maine's highest and prettiest mountains towering in the background. If you cruise northwest all the way through Carrabassett Valley, you will pass Stratton, Eustis and Coburn Gore, and in to Quebec, Canada if you feel the need for a weekend hiatus from the hijinks of our great country.
I've seen some of nature's best along this route. I've also witnessed some of man's worst - like the slow and insidious erosion of Maine's countryside to strip malls with bright lights and acres of black asphalt parking lots. But until they all return to dust, there's a pretty little piece of Route 27 right around New Vineyard that is still in tact and I hope never changes. Even during the coldest, darkest and most colorless months of the year, there are still parts of the countryside that belong only to nature. I hope we see fit to leave them that way.
Route 27 Through New Vineyard • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
The only constant is change - I get it, but this city was way more interesting when it was authentically gritty and hard working, when gulls would fling dead herring at tourists on Commercial Street, when streams of sticky, smelly bait juice flowed under foot making a walk in some parts of downtown treacherous, when there were bars where you tipped more than you paid for your beer, and because of that, you likely got a "howdy ma'am" from a drunken sailor who couldn't help himself but be happy trying to find his way home.
The Way It Was • 8"x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250