October 17, 2008Before driving to Connecticut, I picked up my daughter Emmie in New York so we could visit a bit while I painted the next two days. We got off the Interstate in southern Connecticut and headed up scenic route 7. My aim was to find a great place to paint that would show the other side of Connecticut, meaning the side that was not a suburb of New York. I intended to stay on route 7 but somehow got diverted onto 202 toward Litchfield. As often happens, my favorite moments on the trip happen when I get lost. (Everyone tells me I need a Garmin. Besides my belief that the annoying voice telling me where to go would result in me throwing it out the window, I like maps and allowing for following the road signs and my instincts.) This time my accidental instincts led me to a small farm north of Litchfield that belonged to the Ryle family. I stopped to ask permission to paint on their property and talked to the father and son. The son was a vet of the first Gulf War and I promised to show him the resulting painting. When I was done I kept my promise and had a nice chat with him. It is always surprising to me to talk to people as an artist and see the surprise in their face as they recognize (a) that I'm not nuts and (b) that I am patriotic. I finished the painting by late afternoon and drove north to Massachusetts for the night.
