Booooo Hoooooo! Summer of 2025 is coming to an end!
The air is starting to get that cool fall feel, and it’s as if summer is waving goodbye ever so slowly. Those big, gloomy, black clouds are hanging around, looking all moody and threatening to rain any second now. Now, you can hear the raindrops starting to bang against the window, and it becomes this steady thrum that drowns out the cries of the seagulls and the roar of the ocean. Summer’s bold hues are blending with all these grays and earth tones, and to be honest, it’s pretty beautiful. It’s as if the world outside is a watercolor painting, with everything blending together.
I love my studio! Every time I’m here, it’s like my little sanctuary. There is an unmistakable smell of linseed oil and turpentine, mixed with the humidity of the rain-soaked timber outside. I’ve set my easel up by the window near the couch, where the light is soft, if a bit low. This time of year, those darkish clouds stop the sun, and I’m feeling a little moodier than usual. But you know what? I’m ready to grab my brushes and palette and pour out all of these emotions onto the canvas.
Dipping my brush into the colors, I can’t help but reflect on the bittersweetness of the moment. When summer draws to a close, there’s always a sense of loss, as though the easy days spent at the beach, and the sun-drenched escapades are slipping out of reach. But there’s also so much beauty in change, in how everything grows and develops. I combine those deep blues and greens to mirror this stormy sky outside, but I add some ochre to represent this earth stirring from its summer dormancy. The canvas is a reflection of my mood, which reflects the very bitterness and exhilaration of the day. And the rain just comes down, and it’s like an orchestra present, while the wind dances. I lose myself in the rhythm of painting, every brush stroke a meditation on how time whisks us away. Outside, there’s this huge transformation, the grass and trees are getting darker, and the ocean is blowing up waves with this wild energy. I look out the window, and the world appears through this watery veil of rain. It’s somehow beautiful, sharp in its speed of change from summer to fall. I feel a little heavier with each droplet, but I’ll take it and keep on with my piece.
Later in the afternoon, the light will shift, and the rain-streaked glass will have this soft glow. I step back from my canvas to see what I’ve created. The painting is a kind of freeze frame of the day: raw, emotional, filled with energy. I can sense the rage of the storm in my brushstrokes, but there’s also this calming order to it all. It’s a mirror for my own emotions around the end of summer, happiness tinged with sadness, hope intertwined with nostalgia. Deep down, I realize that soon, Cape Cod will transition to a slower pace, the excitement of summer giving way to a more serene sense of calm. It’s reassuring and just the teeniest bit sobering. I mean, I get so accustomed to the lively summer life, and then comes the silence, and it hits me hard. But clearly, as an artist, I understand…because that from those silent ones can come inspiration. I remind myself that every season comes with its own set of stories that I need to accept, even if I may feel a twinge of sadness. So, I pour out a bit of Bourbon and wrap my hands around the icy glass as the rain comes down. This storm may herald the end of summer, but it’s also pointing toward something new. That magical fall foliage is just around the corner, and I can already see the vistas that will inspire my next piece. And besides all of this …my moaning and groaning and bitching about the weather, I drag myself back to the reality that there are millions maybe billions of people in this world who don’t have a cozy little Cape Cod house, don’t have enough to eat and would give their right arm to live my life. When I look at things with all of the global reality in mind, I automatically feel ashamed that I have the nerve to bitch and moan about a rainy day! I’m blessed with so much more than all of these people have so I give myself a talk! “Snap outta it Julia!” Awwww, summers end is a little mournful but because I always see the glass half full…I start to think of the glorious months ahead filled with color, brisk air and a little fire in my fireplace. Yup! I am truly blessed. I hope this little missive finds all of you happy as a bunch of little clams in a clam flat!
Ciao for Now!
Julia
