The Red Cottage

“That is my family cottage! And I so miss it because it has since burned down!”

...or something very close to that—is what someone said when she unexpectedly recognized the subject of this little painting.

Sometimes a painting finds the person it is supposed to be with.

This story starts when I was taking a painting class in Manchester, NH, with a really great local teacher and artist named Randy Knowles. I absolutely loved taking classes with Randy.

For class one day, Randy brought in a number of photos for us to choose to paint from. For inspiration, he typically—and kindly—brought in four images on a single sheet. I was immediately drawn to a photo of a cute little red cottage.

Small, older cottages are just part of the landscape of life in New Hampshire—especially in areas with lakes and ponds. This one felt like it represented “a time gone by” and a place that was probably full of great memories, with that wonderfully weathered screen door.

Randy mentioned that the cottage belonged to a friend of his and that he had visited it in the past.

I also really liked how the reds and greens—which are complementary colors—were together in the same image. Complementary colors are opposite each other on the color wheel, and there is something about putting them together that makes your eyes really interested in looking at the combination.

Even though it was a small piece, I worked on it over two classes because after I brought it home, I felt like the screen door wasn’t properly conveying the “oldness of it” and wasn’t fitting quite right into the painting itself.

This was the original pass:

And this is the final version after modifying the screen door:

After completing the painting and putting it in a cute, weathered-looking frame, I put it up for sale during my first art show at the East Colony Art Gallery. East Colony was a cooperative art group that, for a time, had gallery space in Manchester, NH. Each member of the group had the opportunity to be a featured artist for the month in order to showcase their work for sale—and my turn was up!

I was very excited to be showing paintings in my first show.

On the same night I put my paintings out for the show, we had a group meeting of all the artist members. Sitting next to me in the circle of artists was Adele Sanborn, one of the long-time members of the group.

This little painting happened to be positioned on a table right behind our circle.

Adele looked at the painting, then looked at me and said:

“That is my family cottage! And I so miss it because it has since burned down!”

I think I remember her also saying that she didn’t have any pictures of it—or something like that...?

Well, I knew Adele and Randy knew each other. Randy was also a member of the group. But I had no idea that the cottage was Adele’s family cottage, nor that it had since burned down.

Randy had simply told our class that the picture was of a friend’s cottage.

And something had pulled at me to paint it.

Adele loved and bought the painting, and I am thrilled that she has it as a reminder of the wonderful times she and her family spent there.

Again, I love how the universe works—with all these little impulses to be followed.

Think about everything that had to happen:

• Randy chose to offer that particular photo to our class.
• I chose that particular image to paint.
• The painting happened to be displayed on a table right behind where we were sitting for our meeting.
• And Adele and I happened to be seated next to each other! There were about 25 members in attendance that night.

That painting was meant for her.

So much fun in ALL of that!

It’s interesting to think about the path that things, people—or even our pet animals—take in order to be with the person they belong with.

And it is also most fun, and humbling, to realize that sometimes we get to be just one step in that process...

So perhaps the next time you encounter a coincidence, stop for a moment and think about all the little steps that had to take place to bring you to that particular time and place.

It can be quite humbling.

Or, at the very least, fill your day with a little awe...