Maryland Hill Farm

Maryland Hill Farm

Oil on linen, 16x20, special online price, $250

Beside me, as I made this painting, ran a small but energetic brook. It was only maybe five feet across, but it rushed and raced and crashed onto its rocky bed, tossing up spray and cool air and the sounds of a much bigger stream.

I was talking with a friend recently about how so many people seem to need to do this very same thing, to make themselves appear as big and important and powerful as possible. Everywhere you turn, some days, people are telling you how wonderful they are, how much more talented or professional or knowledgeable than that other guy over there.

I worked for decades in an industry where industrious and constant self-promotion helped you get the better jobs, the better pay, the better connections. I look back and see how that sort of activity changed me, made me into someone I really didn't like, and I feel lucky to have gotten out with my soul intact.

Now, of course, self-promotion is part of the job. But it is so different. Now, I am not spending my days saying how great I am, how much better I am than others - now, I spend my days not asking people to look at me, but please, please to look at what I made!

On another note, I'm reposting my painting and Nancy Reed Jones's from the day we painted together in Montgomery, N.Y. (Spring in Benedict Park)

Here's mine:

Here's hers: 

And we were side by side. Cool, huh?