Okay true, we have exactly no space for art on our walls or on our shelves (she does both), but who am I to resist a peek inside someone's art studio? Today I went to Rosalie Nadeau's annual sale.
At these sales she thins out her stock of flounder platters (I suppose there are other fish too, feel free to identify them) as well as her paintings. They had the platters displayed on the trampoline, thusly:
We were given one of these platters as a wedding gift from our neighbors. It is used frequently and fondly.
From the trampoline you follow the sign to the studio, thusly:
You pass her garden and then you are in her studio:
It is completely fabulous. Tucked in the trees, inviting, well-loved and worked in. There's a huge window at one end that makes you feel like you're outside.
She has trays of the most gorgeous pastels I've ever seen, and as it turns out they were made by my friend Terry. Small world, even though he lives 2,000 miles away.
As I left I noticed that we were close enough to the ocean to smell the salt. I love being able to smell the ocean.
From there we loaded the family on bikes and went for a ride. Here's how it sounded:
"No mommy no! I'm scared! Get me off! NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! Boo hoo I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS!" Yes, our neighbors think we are the meanest people in the world. Lucy was trying out her new Tag-Along (also known as a Free Loader). It was attached to my bike and I got to listen to her shriek as we set off for a trial run.
And then, half way around the block, she loved it.
Meanwhile, I never really got over the feeling that I was sending my daughter up in a helicopter with no doors and no seatbelt. She's this teeny thing, perched on a seat and careening along a bike path, (hopefully) hanging onto the handlebars for dear life. Studley had it made in the trailer, but Lucy? Doomed.
Knowing that I was probably going to have to throw myself off my bike to break her fall at some point, we stopped at the new bike store in town for a helmet. Lucy already had one, along with knee pads and shin guards. While we were chatting with the (owner? manager?) guy behind the counter, we discovered that his father is a potter who - what a coincidence - made a pair of mugs we got from our plumber as a wedding gift.
It's not like we have shelves of things by local potters. What are the odds?
As it turns out, I did not have to throw myself off my bike and our whole family made it home intact. Lucy was so inspired by her ride that she tackled her own bike and gave her training wheels a run for their money when we got home.
And aside from the helmet, I managed to not fuel the local economy. It's someone else's turn to support the arts today.