Wednesday, November 26, 2014


I am not ready to leave Cape May - having too much fun remembering the town and its wonderful architecture, both elegant and funky.  I have no idea if many of these places are still there.  Hopefully the Lobster House has survived.

Cape May Antiques

Cape May Lobster House- diners served on the boat

What to do with an old bank

Tuesday, November 25, 2014


It has been a long time since I've visited Cape May, so I don't know if all of these grand ladies are still there.  I suspect they are, knowing the towns love and commitment to all things Victorian.  These paintings were done in the late 70s and early 80s.

Monday, November 24, 2014


It should be obvious by now that I consider any painting without a barn or farm an urban landscape.  Today we leave Boston and travel to the most southern reaches of the Jersey shore to the Victorian town of Cape May.  I spent a lot of time photographing and sketching in and around the small town, and one of my favorite places was the back bay area.  Every year there seemed to be some new unpretentious enterprise cropping up.

Sunday, November 23, 2014


I'm reaching back quite a few years for today's barn, tucked behind a rather classic farm house.  The farm is on Rt. 301 between Wilmington and Middletown Delaware in a rural area that is slowly being devoured by urban crawl.

Farm on 301   watercolor   1983

Saturday, November 22, 2014


I went to Harvard, or at least near Harvard.  I see no reason to leave Boston after only one day, and I really enjoyed walking around Cambridge with my sketchbook those many years ago.  All of the drawings were done on the spot with a Parker 45 fountain pen.

The Harvard Lampoon

Oxford Ale House

Entrance to Harvard Yard

Friday, November 21, 2014


It's a short drive from western Massachusetts to Boston, a city that has so much meaning for me.  Yesterday I posted a painting of Cambridge UK; today one of my posts will be a drawing from Cambridge, MA.

Boston from across the Charles River

Beacon Hill

1976 – I was 37 years old and the country was celebrating its Bicentennial. Amy was 11 years old, Beth 7, and Sara 5.  My medical practice of 5 years, which had been a source of unbridled pleasure and satisfaction, was beginning to lose its luster, as my mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing began to gradually decline.  Unknown to me at the time, this was the beginning of a journey that would take me to places I never could have imagined.

State law required all physicians to complete a number of continuing medical educations hours (CME) in accredited courses every two years, and I was registered in an Oncology review course at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston.  I arrived at the conference hall for the 9 a.m. session, and was confronted by an all too familiar CME environment: a large hall with tables set up in rows facing the lectern and a large screen, and smaller tables on the sides of the hall with coffee, tea, and water.  Each registrant was given a syllabus with a daily schedule lectures and an outline of each presentation, along with a pad of paper and one or more very sharp pencils.  The lights were dimmed, the first slide projected on the screen, and the speaker began to read…directly from the slide, the same slide that is in the syllabus.  It takes less than 10 minutes for the sleep inducing boredom to set in; this is the last place on earth I wanted to be on that day, and after 30 excruciating minutes I got up and walked out, and did not return for the remainder of the 3-day course.

I walked back to the hotel to get my canvas shoulder bag with my faithful Parker 45 fountain pen and sketchbooks, and set out to explore the city.  And explore it is exactly what I did, walking through every section and neighborhood of Boston over the next 2 days.  On the third day, I took the train across the Charles River and experienced Cambridge and the Harvard campus.  I loved every minute of every day; quite remarkable for someone who was not fond of traveling and sight seeing, and dining alone.  It was more than just the visual delights of the city’s e urban landscape that captivated me; I was experiencing an incredible sense of being centered within myself.  Everything was as it should be in my small world.  I was doing what I was intended to do.

Those three days in Boston 36 years ago were to mark the beginning of an incredible journey, taking me through the most intense years of my life.  Four years later I would make the decision to leave my practice and pursue a life as an artist.

Thursday, November 20, 2014


Today we will leave Italy, stopping in Cambridge, England before returning to a small village near the Berkshire Mountains in western Massachusetts, and the town of Shefiield.

Cambridge UK   Watercolor

Berkshire Village   print   10x24