[By Marcia Milner-Brage, Down East Maine, late summer]
It was the derelict, dry-docked boat next to the ill-tended house that attracted me. I wanted it in a drawing. But every time I walked past on the gravel road in the days after we arrived in Jonesport, a tied-up, snarling German shepherd lunged at me. It bared its canines. I quickened my step. I found other, more hospitable places to sketch. Then, I chanced upon an intriguing sightline—at a distance, down the road, on the other side of a low, marshy, tidal creek, well out of range of the doggie’s ire. I set up my easel on the side of the road, planning on the 2-3 hours it takes to get a Neocolor drawing done.
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S-curve with HB pencil and brush pen with blue acrylic ink |
I’ve taken to skipping the preliminary sketch in my pocket-size Moleskin and laying down a composition right on the page. I call this discovering the bones. Often I’ll spend half my time on-site with the “bones” underdrawing.
I first spotted this buoy shed on a previous trip to Jonesport (this was our 5th trip to this NE coast of Maine in 10 years). This time, we just happened to be staying nearby.
Unsure where the side of the road and private land met, I asked permission to set up my easel from the couple who lived on the property. They were thrilled to share what they look out on everyday. Again, I launched into defining the bones of the drawing.
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Buoy shed with water soluble graphite underdrawing |
The couple kept their distance while I sketched. When finished, I went to thank them. He required little prompting to tell stories about their house (not seen in my picture). His grandmother had been born and had died in the house. The house had been ferried over from Beals Island before the Bridge. It was the first house on Hopkins Point. It was built with no nails—just tongue-and-groove and pegs. “It’s still a great place to sit out a nor-easter. Shakes a bit, the windows rattle, but it’s snug. There weren’t roads connecting places on the coast then. If you needed something you’d go by boat to the general store down in Addison. It’s still faster to get to Addison by boat than by car. The store’s not there anymore. I spent eleven summers here as a boy, working on my grandfather’s lobster boat. They had to drag me away kicking and screaming when it was time to go back to school in New York,” the now 60-something-year-old retiree reminisced.
I asked him what the small shed in front of the buoy shed was. “Oh, that’s the old outhouse. It used to be at the end of the dock with a hole in the floor. Everybody had them out there. Then the government said you couldn’t do that. You had to get septic. After I rebuilt the dock, I thought I’d put it back at the end, just show what it was like. But I didn’t. I just left it where it is.”
That’s when I decided that I had to come back the next day and draw the outhouse, too.
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Outhouse and canoe with watercolor pencil sketch underdrawing |
In 1958, Beals Island was connected to Jonesport by the Beals Bridge. It’s a narrow, 2-lane expanse that arches high above Moosabec Reach.
Like Jonesport, Beals is a lobster fishing community. Right at the turn going onto the Bridge, on the Beals side, there’s a dry-docked lobster boat that I couldn’t resist. Again, from the side of the road, I set up my easel and laid in my composition. Having the Beals Bridge in my sightline was a bonus.
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Beals Bridge and dry-docked boat with HB pencil and brush pen with blue acrylic ink |
I did 30 drawings during my two weeks in Down East. These were the ones that I documented finding the bones of the drawing from the side of the road. If you’d like to see more of Maine from this and two previous trips, go HERE.