I thought I was painting a random morning scene .... and several people came into the studio and said " aww you painted the camp"
I looked and realized ... it WAS my camp . Without a doubt .... Clothesline and all .
Funny how the subconscious mind works . 🥹 The original became too special to part with but I reproduced into print . 🩷🍃🌱🍃
Most of you probably know about my beloved camp in St.Martins . 🥹
(The heartbreak when it left our family . I was 42 years old then)
The painting is called Morning begins .
Mornings began with a splash of water on my face from our water dipper.
Empty out the metal water basin ...Into the porcelain sink .... into the pail underneath the sink . Haha
Of course Mom had made a curtain to surround the sink . 🥰
Treck down the to fetch more water from our well in the side of the hill. The freshest water I will ever drink .
Try not to rile up the well . 😊
Pick berries along the way back .
( think briefly about the bears that are around me in the woods😅🐻)
Perhaps load up our car with laundry and drive down the old road to the brook . Wash out each piece of clothing and hang it over the wooden bridge . 🤗🌱🍃
Then transfer to the clothesline connected to the camp to finish drying .
Smell the wild roses on the way to the outhouse . 😅
Grab some water from the rain barrel to "wash" my hands... shoot a few baskets into the net (attached to the solid old tree ☺️) and probably jump on my motorcycle 🏍️.. wave to mom and off to explore the country side. .. down to the caves ..Up strawberry hill ,, pick an Apple off the tree . Sit under the tree and dream .
A rough life 😅
A beautiful existence 🥹🌱🍃
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