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26 Split Rock Cove

Sunset view. From the bedroom upstairs, you can watch the sunrise over the ocean each morning. 2016.

 

On the walking path down to the ocean. 2017.

This is a love story.

 

There are creative safe havens sprinkled around the earth where artists have room to breathe, grow, experiment, heal, and learn. 26 Split Rock Cove is one of those gems. This artist retreat, perched near the edge of the ocean is artist and poet Sandy Weisman’s labor of love. She draws artists from all around into this creative mecca which is Midcoast Maine; hosting workshops, poetry soirees and intimate gatherings. I’ve been blessed to have lived and/or worked as an artist-in-residence in her space for three of the past four years. Twice I tried to book an entire winter, but others who had also fallen in love got their names on the list first.

Pet-friendly. Jenkins and I snuggled our days away. 2016.

Despite finally feeling more settled here in India, when I recently heard a long-term rental had fallen through and that the retreat is suddenly available through this coming winter, I immediately thought of booking a flight back to the states to continue my near-annual tradition. Alas, the stars are not aligned with all I have going on here right now. So, I figure the next best thing is to share this insider information with my friends, in hopes that I can live vicariously through your own unique experience. Admittedly, a selfish part of me would also like to keep this secret to myself in hopes that I can reside here again if an opportunity arises in the future. But I’m sure the space will get swooped up even faster than usual as more people come to find out about it.

I pulled out some images that have gotten me in a sentimental mood. Actually, I pulled out a dozen more, but this post is getting carried away. Visit me on Instagram if you have a taste for more (#26src). Below are some of my favorite experiences culminating from various stays at the retreat:

A corner of the studio space where I stored materials, inspiration and completed works. 2015.

 

The dining/kitchen area opens up to a studio space. 2015.

  • A teaching studio is attached to the two-story apartment. Walls are adorned with original artworks and both floors are wired for sound that connects to your Bluetooth device. I laid in bed every night watching the moon pass through windows of the cupola while listening to a “Nature’s Lullaby” station on Pandora.
  • During my first stay, I would hop back and forth between the kitchen and studio, stirring my morning oatmeal and then pulling a sheet of handmade paper.

From the Wasp Nest series. 2015.

  • I photographed my series Wasp Nest, which was the first cohesive project I completed after switching my focus from portraiture to making art through historical/alternative processes.
  • This place was my home for several months after I returned from India. I cozied up with Jenkins, watched the snow fall outside the window, created something every single day, and walked to the edge of the ocean, howling into the biting wind with my friend Erin, in the middle of a blizzard.
  • I processed the transition between my first love and my new love while completing my book of erasure poetry Stray Birds. Winter made the perfect backdrop for a period of introspection.
  • The teaching studio provided a space to bring together other creatives who came in from along the East Coast. I held workshops on bright-room alternative processes, feminine portraiture, and offered one-on-one mentoring with other photographic processes.

Lucia Beach at Birch Point State Park is only a few minutes away by car. In the winter months, you’ll often get the entire park to yourself. 2016.

  • While you can walk to the ocean from your own front door, Jenkins and I would often drive a few more minutes down the road to a popular beach which is rarely visited in the off-season. He and I would run alone down a stretch of beach, hike up into the woods, and sit on large boulders, watching water hypnotically wax and wane at the shoreline.

Sea smoke as seen from the side yard on a day when morning temperatures were quite low. Maine reminds me of Swtizerland in that the cold does not prevent people from getting out and enjoying all that nature has to offer. 2017.

 

Overall, if I were to guess, I’d say that 50-75% of the work you see on this website was created during one of my stays at 26 Split Rock Cove. I’ve never been more prolific in my work compared to my times in residency here. This place is magic.

If you or someone you know are interested in trying to reserve some time there this winter, send a message to Sandy Weisman at sweisman1@roadrunner.com. Be sure to tell her a bit about your art/writing, what sort of creative work you intend to focus on during your residency, and the range of dates you’re most interested in. It’s been a few days since she passed this information along to me, so it’s possible some spots have already been booked. I recommend getting in touch as soon as possible. And, please, do let me know if you are able to arrange a stay. I’d love to follow your journey on social media and see what you create when given time to focus on yourself and your creative practice.

This place feels as if you are crossing a veil between worlds. Time moves more slowly and there is room to breathe and wander and grow. 2017.

 

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