weekend away

Provincetown was of course beautiful when we were there this weekend. But then again, it's always beautiful, with the jumble of little houses, blue sky, and turquoise water.

We stayed in a B&B that was new to us, but we've stayed in another property that was owned by the same hosts. Friends were staying there too, and there were some delightful other couples we got to know, one recently married mixed-gender couple, and the other a lesbian couple who will get married in that very guest house in a few months.

The house itself is gorgeous, a little mini-art gallery with comfy furniture, well-appointed without being stuffy or uncomfortable. We spent many hours sipping sherry by the gas fire place and either talking or reading.

With the house as our home base, we walked all over town, mostly visiting art galleries. We visited one gallery owned by Nicoletta Poli and her husband, both artists. Last year, Robert bought a little dog portrait there. This year, there were a lot of architectural scenes from Italy; nonetheless, I bought a charming little watercolor of a brown cat.

We had a long conversation. One of the most interesting parts for me was when she talked about using watercolors to do her sketches and studies. She then bases her oil paintings on the watercolors and tries to infuse the same level of informality and immediacy into the oil that she gets from the water color. I had not before considered that an artist might tighten up when using oil.

We also went to an exhibit by 80 Provincetown artists. This was not like seeing an art exhibit by creators from any other small town. The Ptown artists are talented, and I felt challenged and intrigued by many of the pieces. While we were there, an artist whom we'd met previously brought in another artist, sat him down, and explained her piece to him. Then they got up and left.

While we were there, the woman who organized the exhibit, Ewa (prounced Evva), came over to greet us and answer questions. We fell into a long conversation with her. She knows all the artists and their relationships to each other and something about the pieces. (In fact, we pointed to one piece that was particularly lovely but also disturbing, and she said "Oh yes, that's by my ex-husband. All his work is disturbed and tortured.")

She moved to Provincetown about 25 years ago after starting in Poland and stopping off in New York. She stayed in New York for a few years where she learned type-setting by watching experts, before she learned much English. Then she found Ptown and lived a hard existence. She said that the Holiday Inn used to show free movies; she and her friends would go for the free popcorn, which was dinner those evenings. She also told us that there's an old tradition that if you meet a fishing boat when it first arrives at the dock and ask for a fish, they have to give it to you. So many nights, she had fish for dinner. But she says she's too old now to beg like that.

She had a beautiful accent and a gracious demeanor. I felt like she spoke poetry instead of prose.

We ended up buying a painting there, too, of swirling carp. It's quite Japanese in shape, but not in color. Many hugs later, we walked back to our guest house, with our paintings.

In addition to walking through town, we walked on Mark's beach, where we left some of his ashes. I don't feel as much connection to that beach as I used to, but I still like going there. It was cold and windy the day we were there, but still, there were a fair number of people there, many of whom had brought their dogs.

Of course, we ate very well and took advantage of having so much fresh fish available. (We got our fish from restaurants, not by begging, though.)

On our way home, we stopped at the gallery of one of Robert's favorite artists, Susan Baker. I don't think he has any of her paintings, but he has some sculptural earrings she made. She's a talented artist with a unique style and a wicked sense of humor. Right now, she's producing a lot of architectural paintings from sites in Europe. She sculpts the frames, too, continuing the picture right off its surface. She told us that she has to stop painting churches, even though she loves them, because she's a "devout atheist."

The gallery is in the front two unheated rooms of the summer cottage in which Ms. Baker and her husband live year round. When she heard that I love Barcelona, she took us into her kitchen/living room and showed us about ten paintings, many from the Sagrada Familia by Gaudi and from a near-by hospital, designed by another architect. She said that the Japanese own the Sagrada and are finishing it, and it's very odd to see tiny Japanese workers in that beautiful site. She also said that most places are free, but that the Gaudi foundation gouges you with entry fees.

A good time away. It felt a little odd setting out, but much better once we had left home. And of course, it was good to arrive back at home, where we'll be for a while before our next adventure.