Searching for the Unexpected

Off Route 2 near Westfield, New York, the lane was lined with old sycamores. They were lovely, providing shade from the hot summer sun of 1995. My friend Bob Rader who lived near the far end of this road with his wife Sherry, told me that each sycamore sheds its bark annually and then grows new bark, tingeing the large trunks green.

Driving slowly past cottages on either side, I arrived at the Raders’ for the first time. After a pleasant chat on their screened porch, Bob and I walked to a grassy area, then carefully descended concrete steps to a green promontory. The next set of stairs and railings were unpainted raw wood; the entire jiggidy-jaggedy enterprise looked dangerous, but the view was tantalizing.

The wood steps led down to a narrow beach which was entry to the vast blue and gray waving waters of Lake Erie. And, waiting there on that shore, I saw a bright orange rowboat. 

Before I could get closer, my fear of looking down from high places kicked in. My body stopped cold, but my imagination shifted into high gear as I remembered the Japanese prints that Leon and I had recently discovered at our friend Michael Verne’s gallery.

In my mind’s eye, I saw a vertical painting. From the top, rickety steps zigzag down to a rugged beach where, unexpectedly, an empty orange rowboat waits. The water stretches beyond with lapping waves that threaten or invite. Thrusting irregular forms and steep perspective create visual excitement enhanced by the boat’s orange color and dramatic surroundings. Each part of the picture adds to a sense of adventure.

Within a year, I completed two pastel paintings, “Sycamores (Lane to the Lake)” and “The Orange Boat”.

Gloria Plevin