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November 22, 2024

Cambridge Spy

Nonpartisan and Education-based News for Cambridge

Arts Design with Jenn Martella

Design with Jenn Martella: The Point at Broadview

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Private drive opens to coastal-inspired shingle style home framed by sweeping views of the Choptank

“The Point at Broadview” is aptly named for its stunning 2.37 acre site located at a point of a peninsula that offers sweeping 270-degree “broad views” of Fishing Creek and the Little Choptank River. On the day of my visit, I drove down to the end of a road and then turned onto the curved, tree-lined private drive. Past the trees, the driveway straightens out to reveal the front elevation and I slowed down to savor the exquisitely detailed façade. The Shingle Style is one of my fave architectural styles and this house reminded me of many shingle style houses built among Long Island’s dunes that I admired on trips to my late sister’s East Hampton house.   

“Boaters view” of peninsula point and rear of the home.

The house was built in 2022, and this aerial accentuates the low slope of the site with 1,145 linear feet of bulkheaded shoreline along Fishing Creek and the Little Choptank River.  The cleared area offers both unobstructed panoramic water views from the house and also a blank slate for the next Owners to add landscaping to suite their own tastes.  At one side of the house is an in-ground pool and on the other side is a large garage to shelter boats, near the private boat ramp and deep water dock with 5 feet MLW and a 10,000 lb. boat lift.  

The front elevation is the picture of New England chic. Symmetrical wings, steep-roofed gables, and contrasting trim around shutters framing the windows make the home’s exterior striking.

The house was built high above the flood plain and to lessen the height of the house’s foundation, a low retaining wall constructed of New England fieldstone separates the parking area from the landscaping beds that slope up to the partially exposed foundation, also of New England fieldstone. I loved the symmetry of the front gable wings at each corner of the house that project slightly from the center wing and their steep roofs that slope from the second floor’s ridge to the first floor’s eaves. The earth tones, texture of the shake siding, artful sizes and arrangement of windows, window boxes for seasonal color, black operable shutters, copper lanterns and white trim evoke the timeless appeal of classic New England design. 

 

Rear of home with bay-shaped projections on either side of beautiful spacious stone terrace and private second-floor balconies

At each corner of the house’s rear elevation, bay-shaped wall projections infilled  with large windows maximize the panoramic views of the water. I especially liked how the architect specified the “cottage” type window that has a row of muntins above the picture plane for unobstructed views of the water. A variety of outdoor rooms for bird’s eye views of the water include the spacious stone terrace at the main level below a deck at the second floor and two private balconies at each end of the house.

Custom cottage-style front door beckons visitors into the warm foyer

The listing agent met me at the wide front door as I was admiring the custom wood door’s cottage style design of multipaned glass above a wood panel.  When I stepped into the wide foyer that extends to the rear wall of the house, the high ceilings, expanse of wood flooring, and multi-layered trim around doors,  doorways and windows were an introduction to the highest level of finishes I soon discovered throughout the house.  The vista from the foyer ends at a pair of French doors to the stone terrace but I especially admired the perspective of the mini-enfilade that began at the foyer and continues to the window in the last room. 

Open plan living, dining, and kitchen area with fireplace, built-in millwork, and maximum river views

Next to the foyer is an open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area. The living area’s interior wall has a gas fireplace flanked by built- in millwork in a mix of cabinets below open shelves with accent lighting for display. The rear wall of the living area is filled with a quadruple window/door unit with two center panels that slide to each side to create a wide opening for easy indoor-outdoor flow. On either side of the quadruple unit are sconces for soft nocturnal lighting. At the front of the living area is another mini-enfilade through the foyer, the hall past the powder room and ending at the mudroom/laundry.

An alternate view of the dining area and kitchen from the living area

The spacious living area offers a variety of seating arrangements to enjoy both focal points of the fireplace and the water views. I especially liked the diagonal vista to the bay-shaped wall with a built-in ledge with great panoramic views of the water.

The window-wrapped dining area feels tucked away from the open flow of the kitchen/living space.

I could easily imagine my wide, round dining table in the marvelous space that reaches out to the water. Since there is also a waterside dining room, another option would be to extend the ledge below the windows to create wrap-around seating with cushions and pillows and small round tables for relaxing with family or friends. 

Sleek lines and lux appliances elevate the kitchen’s custom white cabinetry 

This cook was quite envious of the kitchen area with its custom cabinetry, large center island and its accent of the beautiful mahogany countertop, top-of -the-line European appliances, handcrafted farmhouse style fireclay sinks, Waterworks faucets, gas range and combination convection oven/microwave. I appreciated the sleek lines of the craftsman style cabinet doors that blend into the walls and the upper doors that rise to the ceiling. The exterior door leads to a deck with steps down to the pool area. 

Butlers pantry

I love butler pantries and this compact one is perfect with its delicate English garden wall paneling, handcrafted fireclay sink, freezer, custom cabinets and brass hardware. I could easily imagine displaying my collection of colorful Italian ceramics from Simpatico and the crystal and serving pieces from my mother’s side of the family in the glass fronted upper cabinets. Sunlight streams fully into the space from the windows that makes this efficient space seem wider than it is. 

Dining room

To explore the rest of the main floor, I  retraced my steps to the foyer and discovered the adjacent dining room with its focal point of triple windows overlooking the stone terrace and the water. The room’s length of eighteen linear feet could easily accommodate a large table for family celebrations. At the front of the room, a wide wall opening leads to the hall off the foyer for continuous  flow between the dining and living room.

Library

Being a bibliophile, the library at the end of the mini-enfilade is a book lover’s dream with floor to ceiling built-in millwork and Nautical brass lighting of sconces mounted on the trim between the bookshelves. The wrap-around bay wall infilled with windows for water views defines a very appealing space for settling in on a comfortable upholstered chair and ottoman and getting lost in a new book. 

Mudroom-laundry

Before I went upstairs, I went back to the foyer to explore the English style service areas of the powder room, laundry and mud room. Since my laundry is a stack W/D in an alcove, I coveted this laundry with its checkerboard marble flooring set onto the diagonal to expand the space, front-loading washer and dryer, custom cabinetry, natural stone countertops and large sink. The storage in the mud room awaits a family with bench seating, built-in storage including a peg wall and boot rack.  The triple-unit window bringing sunlight into the space and the exterior door opens onto a small deck that leads to the rear yard for easy clean-up after an afternoon in the pool.

Deck view from second floor stairs’ landing

The stairs to the second floor lead to a landing opposite a pair of French doors leading to the waterside deck. The landing blends into a hall that leads to the primary suite at one corner of the floor and into another hall that leads to the other bedroom ensuites at the opposite corners of the house. This floor also includes an exercise room whose door is shown in the wall next to the stairs. I might be tempted to exercise in this waterside room with its mirrored wall and sliding glass doors to the deck!

Deck overlooking the water

The spacious deck extends beyond the rear wall of the two bay-shaped wall projections at each corner of the house. I was mesmerized by the view of the thin line of the opposite shoreline and the distant horizon line of the water meeting the sky. It was difficult not to linger in this fabulous outdoor room but I went back inside to tour the primary suite. 

Primary bedroom

A pair of doors leads from the stair hall to the primary suite. The  primary bedroom’s ceiling of triangular segments below the roof rafters that frame the bay-shaped walls creates delightful interior architecture. The right side of the bay has an extra window segment to maximize panoramic views of the water and the French door leads to a private balcony for star gazing at night. 

Primary bath

The stunning primary bath is a confection of soft colors and textures and the oversized tub floating on the marble flooring is the focal point of the spacious room. Sunlight filters deep into the space from the wide picture window and the side window that also offer water views.  Opposite the vanities is an alcove that separates the toilet compartment and the shower with all three spaces having windows for daylight.  

Bonus room with bay window wall

The hall from the stair landing leads to the other bedrooms and baths and to this bonus room in the other bay-shaped space at the corner of the house. Its distinctive shape and panoramic water views offer myriad uses such as a sitting room, playroom, office, etc. 

Secondary bedroom with private balcony

If I were lucky to be a guest, I would choose this bedroom ensuite behind the bonus room for its wrap-around window that casts sunlight deep into the room and the French door to a private balcony. 

I don’t usually feature a house that is unfurnished since interior design is one of the four criteria I use in selecting a House of the Week. This house is an exception for its exceptional architecture in one of my fave styles and for its exceptional site, high above the flood plain. It doesn’t get much better than an exquisite Shingle style house, designed by an architect, sited on a point of a peninsula with sweeping 270-degree views of both Fishing Creek and the Little Choptank River. The bonus is that the house is only two years old and seems newly finished. 

The lack of furnishings allowed me to focus on the beauty of the interior architecture’s ten foot ceilings, hardwood flooring that flows from room to room, large windows detailed with a row of muntins above large picture planes and glass sliding or paired doors leading to the waterside outdoor rooms of the main floor’s stone terrace and the second floor deck.  Natural materials of stone, marble and wood enhance the house’s exteriors and interiors, built to the highest level of construction. Brava to the Architect and her team!

For more information about this property, contact Debbie McQuaid with TTR Sotheby’s International Realty at 410-673-3344 (o), 410-924-4482 (c) or [email protected] .For more photographs and pricing, visit  www.sothebysrealty.com/ttrsir/eng/office/766-b-85898-4000107/ttr-sothebys-international-realty. “Equal Housing Opportunity.”

Photography by Janelle Stroop, Thru the Lens, 410-310-6838, [email protected].       

Architecture by  Purple Cherry Architects, www.purplecherry.com , 410-990-1700

Contributor Jennifer Martella has pursued dual careers in architecture and real estate since she moved to the Eastern Shore in 2004. She has reestablished her architectural practice for residential and commercial projects and is a real estate agent for Meredith Fine Properties. She especially enjoys using her architectural expertise to help buyers envision how they could modify a potential property. Her Italian heritage led her to Piazza Italian Market, where she hosts wine tastings every Friday and Saturday afternoons.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Delmarva Review: A System of Seeing by Colin Jeffrey Morris

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Author’s Note: “A System of Seeing” recomposes John James Audubon’s proposal to the New York Lyceum of its collaborative investment in a book project that would eventually become– with largely British sponsorship—his masterpiece, The Birds of America. My poem amplifies the vocabulary of “vision” and “correspondence” that makes its music on the margins of the predominantly transactional pitch of Audubon’s original letter. It belongs to a sequence of twenty poems (and counting!) that treats episodes, encounters and images in Audubon’s ruthless pursuit of a transcendent “system” of seeing.

A System of Seeing

      J.J. Audubon to the president of the New York Lyceum

My Plates are a rifleman’s
captures more than  

ornithological charts,
yet no feature demanded 

by science is denied
in them or overlooked.  

My watchfullest pictures
encompass some seventeen 

subjects or more; a hawk
mauling a flock of great 

grouse-hens; a robin’s nest
stormed by a snake. 

Your best fellows might
lend prudent comments, 

each naturally bearing
their name. Correspondence 

should then fill the vision,
each page spreading 

the imprint of God. Then
will this book open a region 

and increase our love
of the birds.

⧫

Colin Jeffrey Morris’s sequence-in-progress poems on Audubon have recently appeared in descant, Lily Poetry Review, and The Ekphrastic Review. He was born in Liverpool and raised on the Lancashire coast of England. Morris lives in Berkshire County, Massachusetts.

The Delmarva Review has been published annually from St. Michaels, Maryland for sixteen years. Its editors selected the most compelling new poetry. creative nonfiction, and short stories from thousands of submissions nationwide (and beyond) for publication in print, with an electronic edition. At a time when many commercial and literary magazines have closed their doors or reduced literary content, the Review has stood out to help fill the void in print. Selection has always been based on writing quality. Almost half of the writers have come from the greater Chesapeake-Delmarva region.  As an independent literary publication, the review has never charged writers a reading or publishing fee. The Delmarva Review is available worldwide from major online booksellers, and specialty regional bookstores. As a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, support comes from tax-deductible contributions and a grant from Talbot Arts with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. Website: www.DelmarvaReview.org

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Looking at the Masters: Pablita Velarde

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Pablita Velarde (1918-2006) was born in the Santa Clara Pueblo in Espanola, New Mexico.  Her Indian name Tse Tsan means Golden Dawn in the Tewa language. Velarde is one of America’s foremost Native American painters. She and her sister attended St Catherine’s Indian School in Sante Fe. At age fourteen Pablita was one of the first women to attend the Studio Art School in in Santa Fe, founded by Dorothy Dunn in1932. She taught what she called “flat-style painting,” memory paintings intended to preserve the old ways of the Pueblo before they disappeared. 

“Basket Making” (1940s)

 

Velarde received a commission in 1939 to paint scenes of traditional Indian life prior to1900. The work was a WPA project, part of the National Park Service, for the visitor center at the Bandelier National Monument in Los Alamos, New Mexico. She began the project in 1937, and she completed over 700 paintings by 1943. “Basket Making” (1940s) (12’’x11’’), in the flat-style, is a depiction of a man wearing a red shirt, sitting under a tree, and weaving a basket of yucca leaves. The man beside him is weaving a twill basket. The woman next the them is stripping the leaves from the yucca stem. Two men in the distance carry bundles of yucca leaves and flat stems that would be used to weave twill baskets. Velarde described her time at Bandelier: “I figure, I’ve learned more about my own people…than I would have…and I appreciate what the old ones have tried to pass on…I want the earth to remember me through my work.”

 

“Three Woman Grinding Corn” (1940s)

In “Three Woman Grinding Corn” (1940s) (13’’x8’’) Velarde depicts the process of grinding blue corn into flour. Cobs of blue corn hang at the rear of the pavilion, and two women are grinding corn in the traditional way, each using a manos, the long round stone rolled across a metates, the large stone on the ground. A third woman sifts the ground corn to remove any hard kernels. Pueblo Indians planted red, yellow, white, blue, black, and multicolored corn. Each had a particular use. Blue corn is high in protein and contains potassium and calcium, as well as other nutrients. It is also easier to digest and has antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties.

 

”Santa Clara Women Selling Pottery” (1940s)

Maria Martinez (1887-1980), from San Ildefonso Pueblo, and her family of potters began experimenting with new techniques and created the world- famous black-ware pottery. “Santa Clara Women Selling Pottery” (1940s) is a display of black-ware pottery shapes and sizes, decorated with heavily incised traditional symbols. Behind the pots are eight colorfully dressed women of the Pueblo. One carries a papoose. Velarde has included a pueblo building behind them. Straight, symmetrical lines on a pot represent rain in the desert and feathers represent daily prayers. Among the other patterns are bear claws and Avanyu, the god who formed the Rio Grande River, and who is depicted as a water serpent. 

 

“Turtle Dance” (1953)

Velarde painted the traditions of the past in great detail. “Turtle Dance” (1953) is a depiction of a religious ceremony performed on January 1, the beginning of the new year. The turtle is believed to be the first animal to move at the arrival of the new year. Dancers wear evergreen branches, turtle shells, bells, and feathers. The sound of their moccasins scraping gently in the sand creates the sound of rain.  The dancers welcome back the sun. The dance is performed by about 100 men, lined up according to their height from tallest to shortest, representing respect for the elders, who are the tallest.  A new song is created each year to accompany the dance. 

Two medicine men are in the front row. Between them, and to the left side of the painting, and on the roof of the pueblo are Koshare, dressed in black and white striped costume. They are clowns who participate in Pueblo ceremonies. They continue to participate to this day. On January 1, 2025, the Turtle Dance will be performed for the public at the Taos Pueblo.

In 1954 Velarde was awarded, along with eleven other Native Americans, the French Order of the Palmes for excellence in art. It was the first time foreigners were given this honor since it was founded by Napoleon in 1808.

 

“Old Father Storyteller” (1960)

Velarde wrote and illustrated the children’s book Old Father Storyteller in 1960. It was one of her most popular images and the subject of “Old Father Storyteller” (1960) (18’’x14’’). The painting was made into a print. Velarde’s father was a respected storyteller at the Santa Clara Pueblo: “I was one of the fortunate children of my generation who were probably the last to hear stories firsthand from Great-grandfather or Grandfather. I treasure that memory, and I have tried to preserve it in this book so that my children as well as other people may have a glimpse of what used to be.”

In “Old Father Storyteller” the over-sized storyteller sits cross-legged at the center of the composition. He points to the arch of stars as he tells migration stories to the women, children, and men who listen intently. Velarde has included an imaginary structure composed of Indian patterns. It contains animals that are important to the people and part of the stories. A large spider web and spider appear on the left side of the work, with warriors trying to climb onto it. An eagle soars across the sky at the center, and a bear, two other animals, and a turtle occupy the right side. On both sides, warriors carrying sacks may be bringing offerings to the animals. The book was selected as one of the best Western books of 1960. It is still a best seller.

During Velarde’s long career, she received many honors. She was declared a Santa Fe Living Treasure in 1988.  In 1990 Velarde received the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Women’s Caucus for Art.  Founded in 1972, the organization supported women artists, art historians, students, educators, and museum professionals. Its affiliation with the United Nations in 1975 extended its influence beyond the United States. The Pablita Velarde Museum of Indian Women in the Arts was opened in Sante Fe in1912. She received a Doctorate in Arts from the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque in 2005, the year before her death.

 

“Mimbres – Antelopes, Quails, and Rabbit” (1993)

Velarde’s painting skills developed during her career. She used several paint mediums, and she also made paint from natural materials which she used in what she called her earth paintings. “Mimbres – Antelopes, Quails, and Rabbit” (1993) (18’’x24’’) (print from an earth painting) is a depiction of one of her several Pueblo Indian subjects. The people and their customs included images of animals important to them. Mimbres indicates that the animals are kin, part of a group of persons with common ancestry. Velarde’s animal paintings are often childlike, but also are abstract. Antelope are a significant food source, and their hides are used for necessary items. Quail are considered sacred, and their feathers are used in ceremonies. They are messengers between the earth and sky, connecting the physical and spiritual worlds. They are also an important food source. Rabbits were a significant food source and respected. Each of the animals is painted with Pueblo patterns.           

“First Twins” (1979)

In a 1979 interview, Velarde commented on women and painting: “Painting was not considered women’s work in my time. A woman was supposed to be just a woman, like a housewife and a mother and chief cook. Those things I wasn’t interested in.”

 

Beverly Hall Smith was a professor of art history for 40 years. Since retiring to Chestertown with her husband Kurt in 2014, she has taught art history classes at WC-ALL and the Institute of Adult Learning, Centreville. An artist, she sometimes exhibits work at River Arts. She also paints sets for the Garfield Theater in Chestertown.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Design with Jenn Martella: Bella Bay Vista

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Site aerial

One of my criteria for selecting properties to be featured is the site. When  I saw this aerial of today’s feature with shades of blue from the rippling water of the Chesapeake Bay to the thin blue far distant horizon line below the sky’s gradation from white to blue, I was hooked. How could one resist having the Chesapeake Bay as an extension of your back yard?

Aerial of house

Another aerial shows how the house is tucked into a clearing of trees that offer shade. The gently sloping lawn ends at a 150 linear feet rip rapped shoreline for unobstructed views of the sun as it slowly descends below the horizon for amazing sunsets.  

 

Side-front elevations

Unless the house is a townhome, one of my architectural pet peeves is a front-loading attached garage. This house gets high marks for its one garage at the side elevation at the end of a curved gravel driveway. On the other side of the house is a detached garage, set back to allow clear views of the landscape from the bedroom wing of the house.

Front elevation

Having grown up in a rectangular shaped basement rancher, I am always intrigued by a house that breaks out of the box as this one does. The  Owners changed the house’s massing by adding a new waterside gable roofed addition. The higher ridge of the addition’s roof above the house’s existing roof ridge created space for pairs of fixed glass transoms under each gable end.  Another smaller gable roof provides protection for the entry door. The high windows at this elevation provide privacy for the bedrooms and daylight for the single car garage.

Waterside elevation

The gable addition extends beyond the original rear wall of the house and its grid of wood and glass and long windows at each side wall offer panoramic views of the Chesapeake Bay. The steps that span the full length of the addition become grandstands to watch the Bay’s daily parade from merchant ships to pleasure craft.

Entry hall vista to kitchen, dining room and family room

The front door opens into a short hall that soon reveals the dramatic pitched ceiling created by the gable roof that spans from the rear wall of the family room to the front wall of the hall. The kitchen’s former flat ceiling now explodes into a spatial volume that drops down again to areas with flat ceilings framed by wide wall openings with stained beams.  One of the flat ceiling areas of the kitchen leads to the dining room. 

Dining room

I admired the dining room’s wood furnishings and the front wall’s mix of closed cabinets, upper glass-fronted cabinets and open shelves that provide a variety of storage options. The long double unit window offers views of the landscaping and the high window minimizes the view of the neighboring house’s side wall.  

Dining room to living room

The spacious open plan dining-living area includes a free-standing wood stove  and French doors that lead to the adjacent family room. With plenty of room for relaxing with family or entertaining friends and multiple windows for views of the Bay, this is a great space for holiday celebrations.

Living room corner with wrap large windows facing the water

The wide and tall side windows and rear sliding doors that wrap around the corner of the living room gives this delightful space the feeling of a sunroom with views of the Bay.

Waterside family room with sweeping views and high ceilings 

The giant stained wood trusses that support the family room’s pitched ceiling float above the beautiful wood flooring that flows through the main rooms of the house. The end gable wall is infilled with sliding doors, transoms and fixed windows that rise to the peak of the roof. Sliding doors lead to the waterside deck for easy indoor-outdoor flow. I loved the patterns on the floor from the sunlight that filters through the rear wall of glass and the trusses to the rear wall of the family room.

Grand living room to family room

The vista of this truly great room with its spatial geometry from the trusses, wrap-around windows and the stepped wall of the kitchen at the interior wall illustrate what can happen when you creatively liberate the box!

Vista from family room to kitchen with breakfast bar

I especially liked the vista of this portion of the rear wall of the family room for the design elements of the wide wall opening with the kitchen’s countertop extension to accommodate bar stools; notched white walls that meet the higher ceiling of the kitchen beyond and the end gable wall with the four transoms tucked under the ridge of the gable roof.  

Office space at the corner of the home could easily be used as a bedroom with a view.

From the family room, another pair of French doors on axis with the French doors to the dining room lead to the “corner” office with views of the landscape and the Bay. Even though there is a slightly larger bedroom at the front of the house, I would prefer this waterside room as a bedroom since the door to the adjacent bath is accessed from the office instead of the hall to the other bedrooms.

Primary bedroom with ample closet space

The front corner large bedroom has a full wall of closets and another closet for ample storage.  The high window could accommodate a tall headboard and another window overlooks the landscape .

The primary bathroom is the larger of the home’s two bathrooms.

The larger of the two bathrooms is accessed from the hall and has a long lavatory counter opposite the tub shower and toilet. The high window provides both privacy and views of the treetops. The remainder of the floor plan contains another bedroom and a laundry closet. 

Stellar location in popular Rock Hall with 150 linear feet of riprapped shoreline along the Chesapeake Bay; one-level living for aging in place; stunning spatial geometry of the family-kitchen area created by the gable wall of the family room infilled with glass and long windows at each side exterior wall for panoramic views of the water and awesome sunsets; easy flow among the rooms of the open plan main areas and the deck that spans across the waterside family room; attached garage and a separate garage that could become an office-Bravo for a great transformation!

For more information about this property, Courtney Chipouras with Benson and Mangold Real Estate at 410-443-822-6665 (o), 410-200-1224 (c) or [email protected] .For more photographs and pricing, visit www.mychesapeakehome.com . Equal Housing Opportunity”. 

Photography by Steve Buchanan Photography, 301-996-7295,

http://www.buchananphotography.com .

Contributor Jennifer Martella has pursued dual careers in architecture and real estate since she moved to the Eastern Shore in 2004. She has reestablished her architectural practice for residential and commercial projects and is a real estate agent for Meredith Fine Properties. She especially enjoys using her architectural expertise to help buyers envision how they could modify a potential property. Her Italian heritage led her to Piazza Italian Market, where she hosts wine tastings every Friday and Saturday afternoons.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Delmarva Review: The End of the Story by Patty Somlo

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Author’s Note: After my husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I believed I was preparing for his death. “The End of the Story” weaves together this period of caregiving, mixed with fear and love, with my work as a writer, who often has trouble ending stories.

The End of the Story

A NOT FAMOUS WRITER who nevertheless publishes a fair amount, I am sometimes interviewed about writing. One question comes up more often than not. “What is the most difficult thing you find about writing?”

My answer is always the same. “I have trouble finding an ending.”

And so it is with life. Or at least it is with my life in the present moment. The best story of my life recently came crashing to a halt. I’m now stalled in front of a massive concrete wall. At the moment, I don’t see any place I can go. Heading back the way I’ve come is impossible. Going forward, or even to the left or right, won’t work. The only word to describe my situation is stuck.

My husband, partner, friend, and really, everything, has moved on. I wouldn’t say he abandoned me, as that has the ring of intention. In truth, my husband wanted to stay with me forever, far longer than the nearly three decades we were lucky enough to form a twosome. He struggled to live for four and a half years, while cancer fought hard to take him out. If I said cancer won, such words would imply that Richard lost the fight. It’s impossible to imagine anyone gliding over the obstacles this horrid disease put up as gracefully as Richard did, until the end, when he just as gracefully bowed out.

A loved one’s long serious illness can make you believe you’re preparing for when he or she is gone. I thought this, especially since I knew the end of the story. We’d received the first news on an April evening, in a call from Richard’s doctor, following an MRI. My husband had lesions in his spine, probably metastatic tumors, the cause of his persistent back pain and the result of a cancer in its advanced stage. At that point, I feared my husband was going to die right then and there, or at least in the coming week. As the story I’ve partially revealed makes clear, he survived. For four and a half years, he continued to live. Yet for four and a half years, I knew how the story would end. I just didn’t know when.

I am not an optimistic person. My usual thinking borders on the hopeless and bleak. If I were a character in a famous novel, I would be Mrs. Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. Like Mrs. Bennett, I almost daily need to tend to my nerves. As also happens to my literary double, a small bit of bad news can throw me into a tizzy. Worse news, such as a stage four cancer diagnosis, turns me into a sobbing mess.

Surprising to me, I did not take to my bed for four and a half years, as Mrs. Bennett would have done under the circumstances. I was Richard’s sole caregiver, which meant I had no choice. He was the person I loved most in the world, devoting himself to staying alive. That made me a partner in this race, in which we did everything possible to outrun cancer cells trying to overtake the healthy ones left.

A pattern emerged as Richard and I traveled the road of his illness. Some crisis would appear—a fracture in his spine, intense digestive issues, cancer moving to his brain—and I would sink way down. Not only could I imagine the worst, but I also let him know this terrible fate was on the horizon. But in a few hours or a day, I would unearth some slender thread of hope and follow it to a place that hadn’t existed for me before.

I went on as if reading a novel in which we’re told in the first chapter that the main character is soon going to die. In preparation, I did all the practical things. Like most married couples, Richard and I split household and other chores, each handling what we liked and were good at. Gradually, I convinced Richard to let me do things he’d always handled, such as paying bills. As time went on, he took it upon himself to teach me what I didn’t already know—how to open the safe or where he kept his passwords.

I understood that I probably couldn’t prepare for the emotional trauma the loss of my husband would cause. But at least I would be ready to take over the mundane everyday tasks.

Still, as his condition worsened and we feared the every-three-weeks treatment wasn’t working as well and one day would not, I imagined I was getting ready. He slept a lot, appearing for breakfast, and then returning to bed. Weeks wore on, and he started to sleep even more. Alone much of the time, I thought, Well, this is what it will be like when Richard is gone.

Earlier in my life, stories seemed to emerge nearly whole. Tales I wrote were short, two thousand words, no more, and came out of me like I imagined an infant would, if I’d ever had children. In those days, I didn’t search for endings. They arrived naturally, as if the story could end no other way.

Two years into my husband’s illness, when COVID shuttered everything in our small city, for the first time I found myself writing longer stories. Many days, I searched without luck to find resolutions to those tales. It was as if the unchecked malignant cells in Richard’s body and the Coronavirus spreading everywhere had seeped into my pen.

At the same time, I spent hours each day alone with my thoughts, worrying about the latest crisis or concerning symptom that might only be a side effect but also a sign of the impending end. Over and over again, I calculated how many more weeks or months Richard might live. I worried and worried and worried, and then would try tricking my doomsday mind with a bit of mindfulness, reminding myself that what would happen was out of my hands and worrying wouldn’t change that.

Every writer has heard one piece of advice—Write what you know. Since my beginnings as a creative writer after a decade as a fact-writing journalist, I have written about what I want to know. In other words, I write to learn. Beforehand, I don’t know the characters and their stories. I write about them to find out more.

I knew almost nothing about cancer before Richard’s diagnosis. Though I fretted endlessly about his dying and how soon that terrible event would occur, neither Richard nor I cared to ask his oncologist for a prognosis. We chose instead to take each day, week, and month as it would come, to make the most of his time, rather than cross off each day on an abbreviated calendar and see how few days of his life were left.

At the urging of a social worker in palliative care, I joined a caregiver support group, two years into Richard’s cancer treatment. The group met once a week on Zoom. Monday mornings, I stared at all these strangers’ heads and listened to their voices, frequently relating truly terrible ordeals. The worst stories came from people caring for loved ones close to death. There was talk of twenty-four-hour care by husbands, wives, and children not trained to be doctors, nurses, or nursing home aides, yet suddenly thrust into those roles. One wife hadn’t left her bed for two years, having been in hospice all that time. Another partner needed more oxygen every day than the provider was willing to supply. The stories were wrenching and frightened me more than I was ready to be that scared. I thought, what a mistake I had made agreeing to join this group. Instead of helping me, I felt far worse when I turned off my laptop at the end of each group.

I’m not sure why, but I hung in there. My reason for doing so might have been because I listened to a voice in my head that said, Eventually, these people will be able to help you.

In addition to outlining horrors at the end of life and the toll that can take on the person doing most of the caregiving, members of the group offered resources, easier ways to do this or that, along with helpful products. They shared the adoration they felt for their patients. Most important, they let me know that more than anything, love would power me through the hardest times.

I started to see the end of the story in the caregiving group, though I still didn’t know how or exactly when my story with Richard would end. Group members were caring for loved ones with a variety of serious illnesses, but most who had died were suffering from stage four cancer. One of the many lessons I learned about a life ending from cancer was that the last days often arrive without warning, as if someone snuck in and suddenly flicked the switch from on to off.

As much as I feared this shift happening to Richard, I couldn’t help seeing it in every new crisis. An MRI done on his neck after he injured his shoulder and arm trying to lift a heavy weight, what he used to do easily at the gym before cancer robbed him of energy and strength, showed a tumor at the base of his brain. The next day a subsequent MRI of the brain revealed two more. This is it, I thought, before learning that targeted radiation could destroy the DNA in those cancer cells without a bit of damage to the surrounding healthy tissue.

Six months later, Richard suddenly started speaking in nonexistent words. I panicked, asked him what was wrong, and when he couldn’t tell me, I called 9-1-1. In seconds, burly firefighters and paramedics crowded into the hall of our small ranch house, checking out my poor confused husband, while shooting rapid-fire questions at me. As I waited to see Richard in the emergency room, I kept thinking, This is it. Finally able to go to his room, I was relieved to find that he could speak normally again. The doctors had no idea of the cause for what they labeled temporary aphasia.

A few weeks later, following a more precise series of MRIs, we learned Richard had even more brain tumors. And yes, I assumed this was where he would now take the rapid turn, hurtling him to his final destination. But once again, I was wrong.

As a prolific writer of short fiction, I’ve learned the essential technique of foreshadowing. Because I almost always write to discover the story, rather than plotting the tale ahead of time, I often need to go back and add hints of what I know is to come when the piece concludes. Looking back on the progression of Richard’s illness, I can see that, yes, the appearance of the first brain tumor was one of many signs in his final year foreshadowing the end coming not far behind.

Yet we held on to hope. In the three and a half years before brain tumors were discovered, every seemingly life-ending crisis had resolved. With the second appearance of even more brain tumors, the kind, excessively smart and cheerful radiation oncologist assured us following the treatment that he’d gotten every single one.

Yet, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Richard’s condition was worsening. Numbers that used to go down on his tests following chemo were climbing to levels we had never seen. Also rising was his pain, prompting the need for more and more medication. His weight, on the other hand, was dropping, even at times when his appetite reappeared, and he ate more. He was also sleeping a good part of the day, eventually spending more time asleep than awake.

If I had been writing a story of someone dying from cancer, I might have realized the ominous changes signaled the end was near. In real life, though, people are complicated. Richard wanted to stay alive. He also used every ounce of his diminishing energy to hold onto some semblance of a life. A landscape photographer who loved traveling to beautiful places in nature, whether on day trips or longer stays, he still found ways to use one of his many cameras to make memorable prints. Every so often, he would muster up the energy to take a walk with me around the neighborhood, his camera tripod doubling as a walking stick. Some afternoons, he only had enough strength to step out to the backyard, photographing our delicate old roses, then making prints inside, even matting, framing, and hanging them on the wall.

The life Richard gripped so fiercely helped me push the end of his story further into the future. Many days I would remind myself of how long the spouses of other caregivers survived after entering hospice. Since Richard hadn’t moved into that end-of-life care, I assumed he would go on that same amount of time.

We knew, though, that whatever time he had left was growing shorter. As his energy diminished more and more, the one place left where he had the strength to venture out was the backyard.

Without any planning, Richard and I started a daily ritual of coming together in the late afternoon outside. We each sat in one of the black wicker chairs set beneath the fig tree. By this time, Richard’s bones were destroyed from the cancer that had found a home there early on, which made sitting hard. To ease the discomfort, he would place an oversized cushion down on his chair.

In our meetings under the fig tree, we began, without prior agreement, to prepare for the end of the story. Each day, one or the other of us would start. Initially, we spent those precious afternoons reminiscing about the wonderful life we’d shared, mostly recalling favorite trips and hours spent outdoors.

The look back on our life turned out to be the prelude. Before long, we eased into talk of what would happen when Richard was gone. More than once, he asked if I would be all right. Each time, I assured him that though I’d relied on him in our years together, I could manage on my own. That did not mean, I made clear, I wouldn’t be sad and miss him forever, which I would.

We next eased into Richard’s future, which, as we agreed, was far more uncertain. He admitted to being afraid, mostly of what would happen before he died. He worried most about the pain of dying, and that no amount of medication would ease it.

And of course, he feared what would happen after death. I told him again and again that I believed he would be in a better place, where the pain and all the terrible side effects had finally vanished.

On a sunny and warm fall morning, Richard died. In the days before he took his last breath and his heart stopped, he seemed to move on, barely getting out of bed, as if he realized life as he’d known it was done. The end of the story I’d dreaded for four and a half years had come, and sorrow washed over me, an enormous wave under which I felt I might drown. Worst of all, the man who had comforted me through so many hard times was now gone.

If ghosts exist, since Richard’s death I have acquired one. He is friendly, like Casper, who I adored as a child. I hear him around midnight in the hall and assume, like Richard, he is walking to the kitchen, where he’ll grab a ripe banana from the basket I keep on the top shelf.

My ghost hovers over the bed where Richard spent so many hours in his final months. This friendly spirit lets me talk to Richard and cry, letting him know I’m sad, but I’m also doing all right.

The ghost and these early days of widowhood have taught me one thing. When it comes to a great love, there is no end to the story.

Isn’t that, I ask myself, what Jane Austen taught us in Pride and Prejudice? Even after Elizabeth Bennett made it clear to Mr. Darcy that she would rather swallow sharp knives than marry him, he couldn’t give her up, no matter how hard he tried.

So today I will walk to the backyard and take my place on the black wicker chair to the left of the small matching side table. I will turn my chair slightly to face Richard’s chair and the towering redwood tree in my neighbor’s yard. In those moments, I will contemplate the upcoming chapters of my life, which has always been unpredictable, in both its high points and times when the road has headed decidedly down.

♦

Patty Somlo, from California, has published four books and three short story collections. She has won numerous writing awards including a Notable selection for Best American Essays, several nominations for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Her books include: Hairway to Heaven Stories, The First to Disappear, and Even When Trapped Behind Clouds: A Memoir of Quiet Grace. Somlo was a reporter before focusing on literary fiction and creative nonfiction.

The Delmarva Review has published annually from St. Michaels, Maryland for sixteen years. Its editors have selected the most compelling new creative nonfiction, poetry. and short stories from thousands of submissions nationwide (and beyond) for publication in print, with an electronic edition. At a time when many commercial and literary magazines have closed their doors or reduced literary content, the Review stands out to help fill the void in print. Selection has always been based on writing quality. Almost half of the writers have come from the greater Chesapeake-Delmarva region. As an independent literary publication, it has never charged writers a reading or publishing fee. The Delmarva Review is available worldwide from Amazon, other online booksellers, and specialty regional bookstores. As a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, support comes from tax-deductible contributions and a grant from Talbot Arts with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. Website: www.DelmarvaReview.org

 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Looking at the Masters: Kay WalkingStick

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Cherokee artist Kay WalkingStick was born in 1935 in Syracuse, New York. Her father was Scots/Irish and her mother was of the Cherokee tribe in Oklahoma. WalkingStick began making art at an early age. She graduated in 1959 from Beaver College in Pennsylvania where she earned her BFA degree. She completed her MFA degree at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York City. She served from1988 until 2005 as a tenured Associate Professor at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York.  She commented, “It was always important to me to be recognized as a Native person…It was also important to be understood as a New York artist, one who was working in the mainstream.” 

”Where are the Generations, Stillness” (1991)

“Where are the Generations, Stillness” (1991) (28”x56’’) (acrylic, copper, and oil on canvas) is an example of WalkingStick’s early paintings in which she adapted the diptych, two separate panels hinged together. She said, “The diptych is an especially powerful metaphor to express the beauty and power of uniting the disparate and this makes it particularly attractive to those of us who are biracial…I use landscape as the context…one side of the painting represents immediately visual memory; the other archetype memory and both could be a stand-in for the human body and soul.”

The left panel of “Where are the Generations, Stillness” is abstract. At the middle of the composition an ochre half oval is surrounded by a sapphire field. The interpretation of abstract images is left to the viewers, but the title of this work offers a suggestion: the semi-oval could be half an egg, symbolic of life. The universe and creation are suggested by the sky, including the red sparks, and the red shape lying beneath the oval, the beginning of the Indian Nations.  A barren mountain landscape is on the right panel; no people are present.

Text is printed on the wall next to the painting: “In 1492, we were twenty million. Now, we are two million. Where are the generations, never born? From a distance, the sphere becomes more prominent–a universe, suggesting that viewers would need the perspective of time and distance to understand the weight of genocide.” 

 

We’re Still Dancing (2006)

In “We’re Still Dancing” (2006) (32’’x64’’), WalkingStick pairs a dramatic image of a rocky mountain with women’s legs dancing on a golden field. The two images create a dynamic duo of hope. The paintings may appear to be alla prima, an Italian term meaning at first attempt.  They are, in her words, “by contrast, deliberate and resolved.” They are from “memory, sketches, photos, not a depiction of a specific space, but a psychological state painting of a totally real place.”

 

“Fairwell to the Smokies” (2007)

WalkingStick painted “Fairwell to the Smokies” (2007) (36”x72’’) after a visit to the Smoky Mountains. It represents the Trail of Tears, when the Indian Removal Act in 1830 forced five tribes, including the Cherokee, to leave their homes in North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Tennessee. They walked 800 miles west of the Mississippi to Oklahoma. The landscape is painted in rich browns and greens. The Indians walk along the bottom of the canvas. The small size of the figures and hazy gray color make it easy to miss them, particularly those who enter the unknown new land at the right. Text placed on the wall of the gallery explained that Walkingstick, although born and raised in New York, felt the significance of the Trail of Tears when she visited her ancestral homeland in the Carolinas and Tennessee: “It’s about the traumatic experience of leaving home—leaving this beautiful home.” 

Stories of the Indians who walked the Trail of Tears are hard to hear. Families were separated, the elderly and sick were forced to leave at gunpoint, and they were given no real time to gather their possessions. After they left, white people looted the homes. Gold was discovered in 1830 on Cherokee lands in Georgia.

 

“Lush Life” (2015)

“Lush Life” (2015) (36”x72”) represents another facet of Walkingstick’s paintings. She commented, “The move seemed inevitable. Although, I hadn’t put depictions of humans into my art for many years. In fact, their absence had seemed crucial to the significance of the work.” The female figure was herself, and she began using the image on a limited scale in the 1990s.  Placing her figure against a lush light green landscape and coordinating the trees with the movement of her dancing legs, gives the viewer a peaceful and happy moment. 

WalkingStick was given a retrospective exhibition in 2015 at the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, DC.  She commented, “I had to come to terms with this idea that I am as much my father’s daughter as my mother’s…I hope viewers will leave the museum with a renewed sense of how beautiful and precious our planet is with the realization that those of us living in the Western Hemisphere are all living on Indian Territory”

 

“New Hampshire Coast” (2020)

WalkingStick grew up on the East Coast, but she has painted landscapes from coast to coast.  She lives and works in Pennsylvania, and she has traveled across the American west and to Italy. In “New Hampshire Coast” (2020) (36”x72’’) she expresses her love of landscape painting in the wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean and New Hampshire’s rocky coast. The Indian sign, painted in terra cotta on the right side of the diptych, is from a Native basket motif of the Wabanaki Indians, who lived there for hundreds of years before white settlers arrived. A fight for the ownership of the land is an on-going battle in Maine.

 

“Niagara” (2020)

“Niagara” (2020) (36”x72”) is a painting of one of America’s best-known landmarks. Walkingstick depicts a panoramic view of two of the three falls, Horseshoe and Bridal Veil. WalkingStick has chosen to paint single-view landscapes in her recent diptychs. She painted a symbol of the Haudenosaunee Indians, people of the long house. They are the first Confederation of the Six Nations, also called the Iroquois Confederation, that included the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, Seneca, and Tuscarora tribes. They are the oldest participatory democracy in America. Several of their democratic principles were adopted by the thirteen original colonies. The six tribes originally lived in northern New York. 

Kay WalkingStick’s work has been included in numerous solo and group exhibitions. Her paintings were exhibited by the New York Historical Society from October 2023 until April 2024, comparing her landscapes with those of the Hudson River School of the 19th Century. WalkingStick was included in the 60th anniversary of the Venice Biennale, that will end on November 24, 2024. The theme of the Biennale was Foreigners Every Where. The Addison Gallery in Andover, Massachusetts is exhibiting her work from September 14, 2024 until February 2, 2025. Kay WalkingStick is one of the most esteemed American Indian artists.

“I want them to also see the primary message in the work, that is: This is our beloved land no matter who walks here, no matter who “owns” it. This is our land. Recognize us and honor this land.” (Kay WalkingStick, 2012)

Beverly Hall Smith was a professor of art history for 40 years. Since retiring to Chestertown with her husband Kurt in 2014, she has taught art history classes at WC-ALL and the Institute of Adult Learning, Centreville. An artist, she sometimes exhibits work at River Arts. She also paints sets for the Garfield Theater in Chestertown.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Design with Jenn Martella: Transformation on Talbot

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Beautifully transformed exterior faces a well traveled street in charming St. Michaels, MD. Two boutique offices sit below stunning second-floor air-bnb.

This three -bay, cross gabled building with a full front porch is a great example of an architectural style that became popular throughout St. Michaels in the late 19th century . Sited close to the busy intersection of Talbot Street and Railroad Ave., with links to the Community Center and the pedestrian bridge to the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum, this building’s current commercial use continues with its stunning transformation by Realtor Cornelia Heckenbach of Long and Foster Real Estate- Forbes Global Network. 

When Long and Foster consolidated their offices into their Easton location, Cornelia saw a unique opportunity to maintain Long and Foster’s presence in St. Michaels by purchasing this building to create a boutique office. Her mix of commercial and residential uses includes two offices for her and her client/tenant, Tremezzo Stay, on the first floor and a two bedroom, one bath Airbnb, “Coco’s Nest” on the entire second floor, managed by Cornelia and Flaneur. 

On the day of my visit, I walked up new steps of stone and bluestone steps to the deep front porch between the two bay front wings with glass walls for total transparency. With the serene exterior color palette of pale gray walls and crisp white trim, this building proudly proclaims its place as the star of the block.   

 

The exterior has been lovingly updated with new roofing, siding, hardscape and native plants.

Among the many accolades Cornelia has earned throughout her real estate career is her ranking among the top one percent of real estate professionals nationwide; due to her attention to detail and laser focus on her customers, whether they are first time home buyers or buyers of multi-million dollar properties. She brought those same traits to her role as a developer for this building’s transformation with her architect husband as a consultant. 

As I walked around the building, every surface has been considered as part of a unified composition. New roofing, siding and replacement windows updated the architecture. New hardscape of bricks and pavers replaced the expanse of the previous gravel surfaces. New native plantings enhance the building’s massing and new fencing provides privacy for the outdoor spaces.  The dilapidated storage shed was restored and behind the building are four assigned parking spaces.

 

Large windows line the deep front entry highlighting the building’s original front door

The deep front entry with its original door, doorbell, new lever hardware, sidelights and full transom offers a shady spot on a warm day. Both residents and tourists enjoy viewing the pictures of Long and Foster’s properties for sale that float behind the glass.

 

Bright, fresh walls reflect light without taking away from the thoughtfully restored staircase – a piece of art in itself. 

The building’s interior was a challenge since there had been no HVAC, only space heaters, for many years. Cornelia’s contractor restored the beautiful staircase to its former glory and added another slim iron handrail at the wall opposite the balustrade.  I was especially pleased that the wood floors were not fully sanded and covered with polyurethane. Instead, the crew left some of the old paint that highlights the pine floors’ wonderful aged patina. The white interior walls reflect the sunlight from the front bay windows walls of glass. 

Punchy powder room serves both of the first floor offices.

The door at the end of the hall by the stairs opens into the powder room with a wallpaper of colorful sea creatures cavorting amongst the coral in the sea. The tile backsplash picks up the orange of the wallpaper to create a backdrop for the white cabinetry and plumbing fixtures. The slats of the window’s blinds are angled to allow both sunlight and privacy to this delightful space.  

Welcoming reception area with view of St. Michaels bustling main street.

 

Doors on either side of the stair hall lead to the two office suites that span the depth of the building. The south suite is Cornelia’s office and the entry door opens into this reception area enclosed by the front bay window and side windows of glass overlooking the streetscape. I loved the Scandinavian design of the pendant light fixture and the sleek wood chairs with upholstered seats and pillows that continue the marine theme. This welcoming reception area was once part of the original front porch so the flooring in this area could not be restored and new wood flooring was installed.

 

Vista from reception area to office with room for two

Cornelia’s reception area and the two-person open plan work area open plan is flooded with sunlight from the front glass walls and the side window overlooking a courtyard. The white of the space’s enclosure, the sleek office furnishings with wood accents of the credenza and side chairs and the muted tones of the large rug create a soothing environment for work. The wide wall opening leads to the meeting room at the rear wall of the building.

 

Natural light washes the rear office meeting room in through single side and double rear windows

The sunny meeting room has daylight from the side single window and the rear double unit window. I admired the telescoping pendant light fixture, wood chairs with rattan backs and cushioned seats paired with the round contemporary white table. The low storage unit below the side window with sliding panels infilled with rattan displays some of Cornelia’s many awards and publicity.  

 

Rich brown ceilings and warm honey floors sandwich the gorgeous reception area of adjacent office  – Currently Tremezzo Stay.

The Tremezzo Stay tenant space is identical in size to Cornelia’s and its reception space’s front glass is inscribed with their logo and pictures of their portfolio of luxury rental properties. I admired the space’s Zen feel with the one round table, urn and pendant fixture suspended from the deep brown ceiling above the new wood floors of the former porch.

Office’s open plan and drop beams showcases the presentation area.

The open plan space is enhanced by a shiplap accent wall, light wood furnishings and a soothing neutral palette. The dropped beam defines the space into the working and seating areas. 

 

Upstairs in “Coco’s Nest,” the second-floor Airbnb, a sitting nook divides the two bedrooms.

After touring the office suites, I was eager to explore the Airbnb that encompasses the entire second floor. The stairs end at a door that opens into a hall with a vista to this cozy nook with a window overlooking the streetscape below. I loved the octopus fabric and how even though the pillows are identical in design, tilting one pillow creates a fun dynamic between the two chairs.  

Bedroom #1 is a relaxing oasis dressed in creamy neutrals and a bright coverlet.

The cozy seating nook is between the two bedrooms that are located at opposite corners of the building with windows on two exterior walls for daylight throughout the day. Carpeting in a subtle, tight weave adds sound privacy from the office suites below. This bedroom’s white walls and bed linens are enlivened by a coverlet and pillows portraying more delightful sea creatures.  

The larger of the two rooms is outfitted with a king bed and pops of fun color

The other bedroom can accommodate a king-size bed and a dual dresser with its splash of deep lime green is a great accent piece. When I admired the colorful floral pattern of the accent pillows and coverlet, I was surprised when Cornelia told me she ordered them from Target Online!

 

The bathroom is designed with guests in mind. Textured tiles and modern glass are the definition of Eastern Shore elegance

The stylish bath is conveniently located off the stair hall. The lavatory’s countertop has space for guests’ daily toiletries and the tile used here as a wainscot is a design I have also specified for several architectural clients for the texture it adds to the wall. The tiled shower’s sliding door spans the width of the space to expand the room’s transparency and the window’s layer of patterned glass provides both daylight and privacy.

Cozy sitting room is perfect for relaxing with a book after a day on the water.

At the rear of the second floor is a sitting area with earth toned carpeting and neutral colored upholstery that creates an inviting space for unwinding at the end of a busy day spent exploring St. Michaels’ shops and attractions before making dinner reservations at one of the many restaurants.  

Mini kitchen/dining area features window seating and under counter fridge and bar sink.

During my tour of the rear hardscaped area, I had noticed a bay window projection at the second floor. When I reached the last room of the Airbnb suite, I realized how the bay window had become a clever window seat at the dining area opposite the wall of the mini-kitchen’s cabinets, under counter fridge and bar sink. The bamboo styled cupboard with both drawers and drawers contains all one needs to set the table for a meal. The artwork of an oversized crab adds a touch of whimsy to this delightful space with a partial sloped ceiling for spatial volume.

Covered porch with high ceiling is accessed through sitting room

The icing on the cake of this exquisite Airbnb is this covered porch that is a delightful outdoor room, accessed by a door in the sitting room. Part of the roof follows the underside of the rafters above to add height to this cozy space. What a perfect spot for a cocktail before dinner or a night cap while enjoying the bird’s eye view of St. Michaels’ Historic District. 

Numerous locals who watched the transformation of this property have sought out Cornelia to compliment her on this exquisite property and grounds. They also appreciate Cornelia’s adding a bench to her landscaped side yard where one can relax in the shady space from the shadow cast by her building.  Brava to this great example of urban rejuvenation that has set the bar very high for future projects!   

In addition to Cornelia’s ranking among the top one percent of real estate professionals nationwide, she is also ranked in the  Top 100 Long and Foster agents within Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, and Washington, D.C., and has earned several prestigious awards. If you are a seller or buyer, contact Cornelia C. Heckenbach, Associate Broker at Long and Foster Real Estate, 410-310-1229 (c) or [email protected]  or visit www.stmichaelsmdwaterfront.com,  “Equal Housing Opportunity.”

Photography by Vincent Ferrari Photography, (301) 395-3245

Tremezzo Stay, www.tremezzostay.com.   Tremezzo Stay’s current portfolio of four unique properties are personally owned, managed and hosted by Brandon and Marissa Lytle. Each home has been handpicked by them and extensively outfitted to their highest standards for the comfort of their guests. Visit their website for a tour of each unique property for a memorable vacation on the Eastern Shore.

Flaneur, www.flaneurvacations.com, (410) 745-8022

 “Historic St. Michaels, An Architectural History” by Elizabeth Hughes, Historic St. Michaels-Bay Hundred, Inc., Publisher, 1996

Contributor Jennifer Martella has pursued dual careers in architecture and real estate since she moved to the Eastern Shore in 2004. She has reestablished her architectural practice for residential and commercial projects and is a real estate agent for Meredith Fine Properties. She especially enjoys using her architectural expertise to help buyers envision how they could modify a potential property. Her Italian heritage led her to Piazza Italian Market, where she hosts wine tastings every Friday and Saturday afternoons.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Delmarva Review: Something More Than Winter Weighs (Upon Me) by John Muro

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Author’s Note: A constant source of inspiration for my poems remains, unabashedly, the natural world. Nature so often provides for poetic inspiration, insight and restoration of the soul and the creative spirit. Sometimes, too, it provides a sacred space to simply reflect upon memories and key events in our life that still affect us in some way. The poem was written after a walk in winter at a time when I was thinking about the many people, including friends and family, who were once such integral parts of my life experience. The bleakness of that day seemed to reinforce a sense of isolation, the temporal nature of life and, strangely enough, it also seemed to increase the weight of anguish — and regret — inside me. Hence, the title of the poem.

Something More Than Winter Weighs (Upon Me)

Slowed by missteps and an unshakable
grief, I’m approaching the trail’s end,
watching the waning light dust the top
of the tree line where a few solitary
leaves of Klimt gold flutter like torch-
lights set atop the crowns of beech,
while a flock of juncos, shaped like
lateral buds, seem to blur and bend
the low-hanging branches, noting
how even the wind’s weighted, too,
with woodsmoke and rank with
leaf decay. In the further field,
snow, as soft as fly ash, is swept
across the thin, translucent icing
of the pond, adhering to the edges
of tombstones leaning away from
wind and much too close to earth,
and I pause to consider how all
seems to be near or at an ending
and so take on the season’s muted
hues of heart-sore gray, and I see
what little light is left to this day,
knowing, too, that I’ve done few
things well in this life and that it
is not so easy to displace loss, or
cast aside regrets or to somehow
ease the even greater weight of
those I still carry deep inside me. 

♦ 

John Muro’s work has been nominated three times for a Pushcart Prize and two times for the Best of the Net Award. He is also a 2023 Grantchester Award recipient. John has published two volumes of poems, In the Lilac Hour (2020) and Pastoral Suite (2022), and both are available on Amazon. A third book, A Bountiful Silence, is slated for publication in the near-term. John’s work has appeared in Acumen, Barnstorm, Connecticut River, Grey Sparrow, New Square, River Heron, Sky Island and the Valparaiso Poetry Review. He lives in Connecticut and remains a lover of  the arts and of all things chocolate.    

The Delmarva Review, published in St. Michaels, MD, selects the most compelling new nonfiction, fiction, and poetry from thousands of submissions nationwide (and beyond) for publication in print, with an electronic edition. It is produced  at a time when many commercial  publications (and literary magazines) have closed their doors or are reducing literary content in print. Selection is based on writing quality, and almost half of the writers have come from the Chesapeake region.  As an independent literary publication, it has never charged writers a reading or publishing fee. The review is available worldwide from Amazon, other major online booksellers, and specialty regional bookstores. As a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, support comes from tax-deductible contributions and a grant from Talbot Arts with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. Website: www.DelmarvaReview.org

 

 

 

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