
A journal by composer and writer Kevin Macneil Brown, detailing the creative process.
Friday, November 25, 2011
November Morning, Broken Overcast

Saturday, November 19, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
You Are My Horizon --New Music
Monday, October 24, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Lines For Rowland Robinson
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Writer’s Harvest and Words of Gratitude

This fall brings a harvest that is of particular importance to me. With the publication of BRIGHT PATH, DARK THICKET, I honor a writer’s commitment I made to myself more than a decade ago: a commitment to complete three books in the Liam Dutra New England mystery series.
It all began on a September trail run up into the woods and open ridgelines of Irish Hill in
I am grateful for what the writing process has taught me about joy and despair, discipline and trust.; for what I have discovered about the history of the place where I live, its people, it’s landscape, mountains, shorelines; for the experience of becoming immersed in a story and being part of its unfolding day to day. (Along the way I've also written three other novels outside the series.)
I am utterly grateful for my first readers, who read these books in various stages of manuscript and generously shared their expertise and wisdom. They are:
Ray Zirblis, Robin Cornell, Phil Zallinger, Raina Lowell, Ted Richards, Bill Fraser, David Blythe, Lindsay Riggs Brown, Patricia Macneil, Robyn Sargent, Rob Halpert, Erika Mitchell.
Thank you to the anonymous editors at Poisoned Pen Press who, while ultimately passing on the Liam Dutra series, paradoxically convinced me that the books were worth publishing.
And thank you, too-- all who read my words!
-kmb
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 01, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Changing Tides


One day this summer I decided to use up the last of what I had: two shades of yellow, some alizarin crimson, a tiny residual amount of zinc white.
I began with a wash of clean water, then squeezed out colors— mixing them, with brush and water, right on the sheet. I made two paintings that afternoon, both of them views of
After spending some weeks with these paintings —and making some small re-wettings and re-workings—I began to see that I had not only used up my paint; I had also come to the completion of something: the visual and energetic expression a place, a moment, a feeling—that I had been carrying for a long, long time.
Of course I will restock my colors. And I will most likely paint
-KMB
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Liminal Music 5: drift chart (from the northern voyages)

Tuesday, June 21, 2011
At the Edge of the Longest Day...

Painting by Kevin Macneil Brown, watercolor on paper, June 2011
That one white pine in
one dark brush-stroke reaching up
from curve of hard
New Hampshire ridgeline
is held now
in the heart and in
a granite chamber
of memory
So that
here at the edge
of the longest day
possible in this latitude
I feel it again:
The lifting ache of
something ancient.
- Kevin Macneil Brown
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Another Shore Remembered

Painting by Kevin Macneil Brown, watercolor on paper, May 2011
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Lately, I've been visited by sudden, strong memories of certain times and places--particular shorescapes I've experienced. After these memories come upon me, I spend time--over the course of a few days, usually-- refining the images within my mind. Once they are clear to the recall, I begin to paint...
-kmb
Monday, May 16, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
this one morning...
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Good Harbor, Remembered May Morning

Painting by Kevin Macneil Brown, watercolor on paper, 2011
There are certain places I return to by conjuring inside myself: real-world places that have made a deep imprint of color, mood, energy, motion; stillness, space, distance; geologic shape and form, inner and outer engagement. By contemplation and imagination I put myself in these places and create a vivid and refreshing sanctuary; a connection and confluence with something I call depth of place.
Good Harbor Beach in Gloucester, Massachusetts is one of those places. I return again and again, in memories, meditations, dreams. This painting, made in hazy May sunlight, brings me back to a certain remembered spring morning at Good Harbor: waking up in a sleeping bag in the dunes; watching morning arriving and changing over the water--bringing light from above and shadows from below.
-kmb
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Woodland Passage, April Morning

woods, the sudden slant of
April’s empty light.
Near hard noon meridian
over softness of moss—viridian
underfoot—I stop,
wanting some stillness
and stand
beside a massive quartzite boulder
left here a long time,
almost motionless, glacial
erratic ( but only to limited perceptions.)
I’m not sure
what I can bring
to all this:
Yes, the gift of respiration;
The manifold graces
of being present—
These thoughts cross
inner oceans and
eons in an instant
and at once I find
that I want
to be one who
will stand at the marge of
this season with prayers and passion
seeking the true glide
of wisdom, imagination;
will watch open-hearted for
the fields’ first greening,
the hazing-over of
the hot, coppered sun,
and on the horizon
distant, small, strong,
the broadwings’ lifting arrival.
-Kevin Macneil Brown
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Mid-March, at the eastern heart of this morning like no other...

Mid-March: at the eastern heart of this
morning like no other,
The perfect pyramid of Spruce Mountain
rises weightless washed blue.
Above and beyond, arrives
a fresh and fearless sky,
Harder blue,
pulsed–through with the hue
of future roses—
Blooms that, in a softer season,
will be here,
Warm and glistening,
fully-fleshed,
In the all-pervasive sunlight
that seeks itself even in shadows.
-Kevin Macneil Brown