Painting in Farmington

Spending time painting along the Farmington River through each season, I’ve become attuned to the energy of the land—especially where the river turns to meet the Pequabuck. There’s a quiet intensity there, a sense of forgotten power in that natural environment that stirs my inspiration.

While working outdoors, I was often accompanied by wild geese who seemed to stand sentinel over the river. Their presence created a sense of timelessness—like the river exists outside of human constructs. The landscape holds both calm and mystery, unassuming yet rich with character, hiding in plain view.

The colors of the water, rocks, and vegetation evoke a distinct New England palette—earthy, muted, and grounded. It’s a contrast to the coastal light and tones I’m familiar with while painting in Maine. Here, the soil is iron-rich, tinting the banks in deep red-browns, while the clay-heavy shores and dark, shadowy waters speak to a deep rich presence.

One unforgettable moment came while I was painting quietly near the riverbank: a large black bear emerged from the brush. It looked directly at me, then slowly made its way through the thick vegetation and down toward the water. The encounter was both terrifying and humbling—a visceral reminder of my smallness in the larger web of life. But instead of retreating, I took it as a sign to stay, to observe more deeply, and to continue painting.

These paintings are a reflection of those experiences: of wild encounters, shifting seasons, and the layered energy of a landscape that continues to shape my vision.