What's it like to be an artist on Camano Island?  I'll tell you in just one word:  Magical

I think there are more artists per square mile here on Camano Island than anywhere in the known universe.  I understand there is this census thingee coming up, and the good folks who do the counting found it necessary to make a whole 'nother form just for Camano Island... what's your medium?  ... acrylic?  ... watercolour? ... oil? ... pastel? ... syrup?

What is it that draws artists to Camano Island?  

There's something magical about this place, and I'm hot on the tracks to find out just what it is.  While many folks think it is the air, or the water,  I'm here to let you in on a secret... it's the scent of blueberry pancakes AND the gauss strength of the magnetic field that was inherent in the formation of the island.

Let me tell you... it's magical, and it's... well...  "magical"... all in one swoop...you know, sort of like the swoop you get when picking up a good dollop of Titanium white to mix with your Payne's grey.  You know... magical.

What's it like?  Well, as you waddle out of the Elger Bay Cafe, after woofing down a short stack of blueberry pancakes, you've got to be careful when you pull out of that precious parking space... you could get whooped up along the side by another artist in dire need of some blueberry pancakes or camaraderie with a fellow artist in search of a good cup of coffee... you can forget all notions of gourmet coffee Americano, or half-caf, non-fat, low foam latte... it's coffee.   If you want gourmet, it's the blueberries that are gourmet.  After all of the fuss over farm raised salmon versus wild salmon, it was only natural that blueberries were next to be debated.  I'm here to tell you that up here folks wouldn't put up with second rate berries, so, not to worry, go ahead an order that stack.

I've got a theory that sounds pretty good... to me.  You see, Camano Island was formed by glacier till about a Brazilian years ago.  There is no bedrock on Camano Island... yes, there are a couple of Bed & Breakfast's, but, no bedrock.  I understand that radio communication is "different" here on the island.  The magnetic field or something like that, is ... well, just "different"... this affects human beings... it makes one cry out for a brush.  What can I say... it's magical.

When one crosses over the Mark Clark bridge, something magical happens... one gets a craving to paint... and eat blueberry pancakes.  

It's magical, I tell ya.  


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