A Story And a Painting

I have a story for you. Get comfortable, pour a cup of tea or a glass of wine, and sit back and relax for a few minutes. I know it's a busy time; a little quiet time will be good.

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On a remote peninsula of Ireland lives a tiny white-haired lady whose name is Mary. Her house is on the edge of the sea. There are stone walls bordering the long, winding lane that lead to her house. They are topped with hundreds of seashells. Here is a picture. You have to see it to believe it - several hundred yards of carefully placed seashells:

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I spent an hour wandering around Mary's house. I spent an hour wandering around Mary's house one afternoon last May. There are paths leading around big rocks and hidden patches of flowers - chickens high-stepping freely in and out of hidden clumps of wild yellow iris and foxgloves that reach almost to my head. Here and there are old benches where I sat for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet. Just me and the clucking of the chickens, and the soft sound of the sea and the occasional gull.

It seems as if time stood still. My mind wandered.

A few days earlier, I had been painting at a Stone Circle with several artists in my watercolor workshop at Anam Cara. I love the feminine imagery that is associated with the Stone Circles, and yet I thought that the painting that I did that day had a distinctly masculine feeling.

On my way back to Mary's house, I passed this scene.

StartFragmentSuddenly I had an idea for a new "Stone Circle" painting. I would place a pale pink rose against a stone; the feminine and the masculine. Here is the painting:EndFragment