This is my latest piece, I completed her last night, or in the wee hours of this morning to be precise. It was too hot to paint all day and as I endured the heat, it suddenly dawned on me, I'm not in the Maritimes anymore. On hot days, when we lived back east, our favourite heat beating strategy was jumping in the car and heading for the ocean. It was only an hour or so away. We'd generally go to a place called St. Martins. The air had that crisp, clean, salty smell and best of all it was at least 10 degrees cooler than the surrounding inland areas.
It's funny how your life and memories seep into your art. I guess what they say is true, art really does imitate life. This painting, which I called When The Tide is Out, is reminiscent of those days. Often Misty and I would head out to the ocean, making sure the tide was out or on its way out. We'd have a little bite to eat at the little seaside restaurant and then spend hours walking along the beach, stopping sometimes to sit, or to watch the water. We'd walk and talk and search for sea glass and cool rocks and seashells. I'd usually spot the sea glass (I have eyes like a hawk), and Misty would crouch down to grab it and search for more.
I can almost smell the salty air in the setting sun when I look at this painting. I'm physically nowhere near an ocean now, but luckily through the magic of paint, I'm never really that far away.