Sunday, 1 March 2015

Hermit lsland

The Waimea Estuary is huge. One of the biggest in New Zealand. I believe that there are hundreds of islands, some quite large, like Rabbit Island, and many very small, like this one, just of the end of Monaco, the peninsular suburb of Nelson.

This little Island, barely a hectare at high tide, has this ramshackle dwelling tucked behind some low growing coastal trees and shrubs. I don't know if anyone in fact lives there, but one passing local told me once, "That's where the hermit lives."

This may be so, or not, as the case may be, but I know if I ever felt a compelling urge to do the hermit thing, I can't imagine a more interesting and evocative setting.

Actually, I don't know what a hermit does. Do they sit and watch the tides come and go? Watch the seagull quarrelling over fishy remnants? No newspapers. That could be a blessing. I could read all the great books I promised myself I would read before I grew old.

But no. Probably not. I'd most likely continue to paint en plein air every day. Without distractions perhaps even twice a day. Now there's a thought...

15060. "Hermit Island." Oil on panel. 12x9 in. $150.

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