Water Works
text and paintings by Jessica Stammen
In the winter I paint windows. They are images I have stored away, views that glimpse out through panes, through trees, towards water. I meditate, hibernate. I paint over old, unsuccessful scenes from the last summer season. Worn dock surfaces and stairs, early morning light, mountain reflections in Megunticook sometimes show through layers of paint like a dream that won’t quite fade, won’t quite remain upon waking.
When I take the first short, sharp breaths of the first open water swim in June it is summer. I stop painting windows because I become a window, looking, looking, looking. The earth remains forever, the eye never has enough of seeing. I swim and paint, paint and swim. Oil and water mix.
On the solstice I swim the sunrise. I return to the lake at noon for another mile. I watch the sun set in the reflection of cabin windows as I kayak into the evening, making the most of the longest day. The season is short, and the sweet pain of this knowledge sharp.
for more paintings www.jessicastammen.com
Comments
Lovely paintings, lovely prose.
I really like your work and blog.