Mural Hunting in Pawcatuck & Westerly

I've long had a love-hate relationship with murals, or maybe it would be more accurate to say a mix of love and skepticism; I'm always happy to spy a mural, whether stretched out along the flood wall of a small Midwestern river town or splashed across an old brick building in a New England city. There's no denying that they brighten up the streetscape, and when they depict events in local history and have a vintage look - which they often do - I'm drawn to them even more. And yet. Sometimes I see people getting all excited about a bright new mural in an economically distressed municipality, as if one Instagram-friendly section of wall can solve every problem, and the cynical side of me (which tbh is about 7/8 of my total being) just rolls its eyes.

But the murals keep going up, and I keep crossing the street to take pictures of them, so I have to admit I'm slowly being won over by the lure of paint skillfully applied to brick. I posted here last year about the New London Mural Walk (still the largest collection of murals in New England, as far as I know) but my recent trip to Detroit's Eastern Market neighborhood may have been the tipping point: there, for the first time, I got the sense that large-scale public art might really have the power (along with a slew of other efforts, of course) to change a neighborhood for the better.

So I was feeling uncharacteristically optimistic last week when I went in search of a brand new collection of murals in Pawcatuck and neighboring Westerly, RI. These were done all at once, over the course of the four-day Bricks and Murals Festival, held in September. The murals were painted on Connecticut and Rhode Island buildings by a traveling band of artists called the Walldogs, who do this kind of thing all over the world. The Westerly-Pawcatuck event was the first time the group has come to decorate a community in the northeast.

There are fifteen murals, I think; I didn't find all of them, and I didn't photograph all that I found. But I spotted most of them, and it was a fun, nerdy little scavenger hunt. The paintings aren't necessarily in the most obvious locations, which also helps to remove any hint of a promotional stunt. (Which it pretty much is; the Bricks and Murals website says the aim of the project is to "[create] an exciting destination for locals and visitors alike" and "[open] the area to opportunities for future events and activities.") The paintings look as if they could have sprung up organically over a period of decades, and they share a 1930s style that fits in perfectly in the historic, walkable centers of Pawcatuck, in the eastern part of Stonington, and Westerly, just over the state line.

Of course, you don't need murals as an excuse to visit these connected border towns. Tiny Pawcatuck is an attractive and underappreciated corner of Connecticut, and Westerly, with its old-fashioned main street and serene Wilcox Park, is always worth a stop. But in a surprisingly subtle way, these new additions enhance the appeal that was already there.

Boston | Charlestown

I wasn't planning on writing a blog post when I went to Boston last weekend - it was just a trip to meet up with a friend and relax on a rare day off. But when I got there, everything looked so pretty that I couldn't resist snapping some photos. And then I realized that I've done a few posts over the years about other Boston neighborhoods - namely South End, North End, and Beacon Hill - so why not add Charlestown too?

I can only remember coming to this quiet, historic area once before, maybe 8 years ago. That visit has a special - and by special I mean kind of terrible - place in my memory, because that was the day I walked the Freedom Trail and destroyed my first knee. (The second knee followed shortly after, as I walked along the water right here in New London.) Before that, I could and did walk all day, any day; for a period of years after, I could barely walk across a parking lot and stairs were nearly impossible.
 Getting my knees to function again has been a long and slow process that isn't yet over, but while they'll probably never be the same, I can now usually walk for several hours (or several miles, depending on how I'm counting) without pain.

And this time, when my friend Stephanie and I followed the red brick line of the Freedom Trail to Bunker Hill and then left it to wander the hilly streets of this lovely waterfront neighborhood, my knees held up.

I have no statistics on this, but I suspect that many people who begin the Freedom Trail (intentionally or spontaneously) at or near the start never make it to Charlestown. It's easy to get distracted by something - a historic site, a coffee shop, a bar, or just the hubbub of Boston Common, Faneuil Hall, or the North End - along the way. If you don't live here, you really have to commit to walking across Charlestown Bridge - not that it's far, just that rivers have a way of forcing decisions. That would at least explain why, despite major attractions like the Bunker Hill Monument and Museum and the USS Constitution, both times I've been to Charlestown have been calm, as if the other tourists mostly wandered off and the streets were empty but for a few locals going about their day.

Anyway, none of that has much to do with the point of this post, which is simply to share some pretty Charelstown shots and encourage you, the next time you're in Boston, to cross the Charles River and explore this neighborhood too. And here's a little bonus travel tip: when you're done in Charlestown, take the MBTA's commuter ferry from the Navy Yard to Long Wharf. You can enjoy a scenic little boat ride, avoid walking through crowds, and you'll end up at the New England Aquarium, where you can stand on the sidewalk and get a free show from the seals, who like to show off for passers-by gathered at their window.

Snapshots: Maine Streets

BATH, ME

How could it be that Maine has never made it to The Size of Connecticut's Not Connecticut category before? I don't know! But I'm very happy to finally add it by sharing a few pics I snapped last week as I explored some small towns and cities along Route 1 in the Pine Tree State. I drove south from Ellsworth through Belfast (maybe my favorite if I had to choose, which I definitely can't), Camden (the most touristy), Rockland (another possible contender for favorite), Damariscotta (the most crowded), Wiscasset, and Bath (the only one of these places I'd been to before.)

This is my favorite kind of lazy road trip, because it requires virtually no planning or preparation (except possibly for hotel reservations; this is summer in New England after all.) Just get yourself on Route 1 and drive until you see an adorably old-fashioned downtown retrofitted to accommodate all the dining, shopping, and sightseeing needs of a modern traveler. (You'll encounter one of these something like every 20 to 40 minutes.) You don't need an itinerary or a list of must-sees, because it's all a must-see, and whatever you end up doing will be perfect. Maine is calming that way. In fact, it occurred to me on this trip that Maine is very similar to Connecticut, it's just calmer, and there's more contentment and pride.

There is one downside to this trip, which I should probably warn you about: no matter how much you cram in, you will pass 1,000 other things you'd like to see if you had more time, so as soon as you get home - if not before - you'll want to go back again.

CAMDEN, ME

BELFAST, ME

BATH, ME

BELFAST, ME

BELFAST, ME

CAMDEN, ME

BELFAST, ME

CAMDEN, ME

CAMDEN, ME

ELLSWORTH, ME

ROCKLAND, ME

ELLSWORTH, ME

ROCKLAND, ME

ROCKLAND, ME

CAMDEN, ME

ROCKLAND, ME

BATH, ME

Boston | South End

I was hesitant to publish two posts in the "Not Connecticut" category back to back, but I figured no one would mind some additional Boston photos.

After wandering around Beacon Hill last week, my friend and I wandered over to the South End, where we wandered some more. I hadn't been in the neighborhood for years, and this time, the South End - though obviously very Boston - reminded me a little of Hartford. (If you've been to both, or read my posts on Capitol Avenue, Congress Street, and Lewis Street, you might see the resemblance too.)

We peeked into tiny adorable hipster stores and wondered how they stayed in business. We admired autumnal decorations and diminutive doors tucked beneath front stoops. We strolled down the middle of empty streets, wondering where Boston residents go on weekends.

After we had wandered long enough that I could feel blisters forming on my toes, I headed limped back to the train station. On the way I passed some white chalk lettering on a brick wall that read: IT MIGHT WORK OUT. Let's hope, chalk graffiti artist of the South End, let's hope.