The words, “Parva sed Apta” hung above my great-grandmother, Dear Sonny’s, front door. Hook’s Mill was her small, but apt home in the tiny truck-stop town of Hancock, Maryland at the cross-roads of two major thoroughfares.
The 18th century mill house, built into the side of the grassy hill, welcomed Cuban dandies, Scandinavian opera singers, poets and mystics, farmers, hunters, riders, and writers, Dorothy Parker, Austrian arborists, Mrs. Simpson’s divorce lawyer, Senators, Czech artists, English parliamentarians, the founding editor of Esquire Magazine, a Ramapo Mountain man, Bhutanese princesses, Hemmingway’s lover, and any other adventurer who happened to find the twist in the road, left past the horses, down the gravel road, and across the little plank bridge.
To this day, all are beckoned by the book-covered settees, the over-stuffed chairs with purring cats, the chance to sleep in Napoleon’s bed, and the tiny kitchen where tea is always served hot in broken-handled, mis-matched mugs.
This site is my virtual Hooks Mill, where artists and travelers are welcome. Like Dear Sonny’s home, this site is meant to entice art from us all.