In the small village of Harrisville, NY, the west branch of the Oswegatchie River winds along the road and through a wonderful park that can be seen from the highway. Every year when passing by I find myself on the car brakes shouting my desire to stop and paint. This year I did — for two days. This little plein air study is for the collector who wants a painting that reminds them of the moments when magical places are found that beg you to stay for awhile. I did sit/stand/paint for hours. The sound of the river was joyful.
In the small village of Harrisville, NY, the west branch of the Oswegatchie River winds along the road and through a wonderful park that can be seen from the highway. Every year when passing by I find myself on the car brakes shouting my desire to stop and paint. This year I did — for two days. This little plein air study is for the collector who wants a painting that reminds them of the moments when magical places are found that beg you to stay for awhile. I did sit/stand/paint for hours. The sound of the river was joyful.