Berkshires Gold

Goldenrod. Oil on canvas, 20x20

Yesterday, I traveled to Albany, N.Y., to meet the other Carrie Jacobson. She was delightful, smart, charming, funny, caring. We met at a Japanese restaurant, had a delicious dinner and a lovely hour and a half of conversation. The impetus for my journey, in addition to meeting her, was to deliver a painting she'd bought, a large abstract, probably the best one I've ever done.

This Carrie Jacobson really came into my life because her email address is very close to mine - mine has a "b" between "carrie" and "jacobson," and hers doesn't. She has patiently and carefully forwarded misaddressed email to me over the years, including a number of quite intimate letters mis-sent after my mother's death.

She recently bought a house, and so now has room for art. My painting is her first purchase, and I am truly honored.

I've thought for a while now about how buying art changes your life. I believe that it does.

When you buy art, you make a decision that changes your environment. And if the work is good, it really does change things. More than giving you just something to look at, it gives you something to contemplate, something that takes you somewhere, something that whispers of possibility or hope or faith.

If the art is good, it grows with you, and continues to take you places. No matter what's happening in your life, right there on the wall is a space of peace or beauty or excitement - whatever the content is, whatever appeals to you, whatever you've bought, and hung and lived with, it engages and transports you - and I am truly honored.


Thanks for reading!