Red Barn, Route 17A

Red Barn, Route 17A

plein air

Oil on canvas, 18x18

sold

I had the chance to see my work hanging in the homes of four friends this weekend. It is hard to describe how amazing and uplifting and joyful an experience that is! 

Their financial support means a lot to me, for starters, and even more than it might because most of these friends were unemployed or underemployed when they fell in love with my paintings and bought them. How amazing is that? 

But more than the money is how these paintings matter to them. I know that when Gittel is sitting at her desk and working, she gazes at my sunflower painting, and remembers or dreams, or thinks of a field full of sunlight. When Sherry is in virtually any of the rooms of her house, looking at one of my paintings brings her to a place that she loves - and I love. When Patrick sees the sunflowers on his living room wall, he will smile and take heart, and when Joanie looks at Buddy, she will feel sad, but healing, will remember him with joy. 

My paintings have helped us share experiences, and talk about things we might never have discussed. And while my paintings have given my friends a view into my soul, seeing those paintings on their walls gives me a view into their souls and into their lives. 

Kosey Again

Kosey Again

Oil on canvas, 12x12

Remember Kosey? If you don't, look below, or click here . 

Kosey is a commission - but he's been in our living room drying, and I found I was having trouble imagining packing him up and sending him off to his rightful owner. So I decided to paint Kosey for myself. 

So here he is again - the same but different. Right now, I have the original Kosey and the new Kosey side by each, and they look like brothers. 

I have asked Peter to stop me if I decide to paint another Kosey. I am sure that it was something like this that got Jack Nicholson's character started on the road to insanity in "The Shining." 

Which one do you like better? 

The first Kosey

 Kosey 1, left, and Kosey 2

   

Springtime on the Salt Marsh I

Springtime on the Salt Marsh I

Oil on canvas, 10x10
sold

Something interesting is happening to me, and while I can't explain it exactly, I'm sure it's a good thing, a sign of progress.

I set out to paint, and do a painting that I like - like this one - and then sometime in the middle of the painting, find myself struck by an idea of a way to make this painting more abstract.

It happened here, and it happened on the painting I made yesterday (will post it and its more abstract cousin soon!)

I've been working toward a more abstract sort of style for a while, looser and less detailed, and it is a challenge. The eye, the hand and the brain don't always work together! And that is OK - I prefer a curvy road any day, even if it means I drive more slowly.

To see the more abstract version of this painting, click here. 

Springtime on the Salt Marsh Il

 Springtime on the Salt Marsh Il

Oil on canvas, 10x10
sold

For weeks now, I've been pushing at something - or, more accurately, something's been pushing at me - and yesterday, with this painting, I think it pushed through. 

It's hard to explain this feeling. I wrote here, first, that I was a little dissatisfied with my paintings recently - but that's not really right, as I have loved my recent paintings. 

I think it's more that I have had this idea, an idea of a feeling that I've wanted the paintings to have, and they just haven't had that feeling, not completely. But since it's something I haven't really felt myself, and something I haven't seen, all I've known is that the stuff I've been doing has not created that feeling. Not catalyzed it, at least not for me. 

With this little painting, I feel that I've broken through. There's something in this piece, in the colors, in the daubs and smooshes of paint, in the luscious quality of the marsh against the thinner quality of the sky, something that gives me the feeling I've been seeking. 

Freedom? Joy? Awakening? I still don't know what it is, exactly, but I know that this piece begins to have it. 

Blue Sunflowers

Blue Sunflowers

Oil on canvas, 30x30, sold

My sister and I were talking this morning about the life of my paintings, and how that life continues after the painting is finished.

Part of it is that these paintings go out to people's homes, and into people's lives, and change them. My paintings, most of them, do not settle quietly into rooms. They announce themselves, and alter atmospheres.

I love thinking that someday, the person who bought this will be feeling blue, and will walk through a room and see this painting, and everything will change. The gloom will lift, and possibility will present itself - and misery will once again seem optional.

For me, too, the life of the painting continues long after the painting is finished. This one builds on that one, this stroke I found in one painting becomes the basis for an entire painting down the way. The thoughts I had while I was making one piece become the background of another, and each one informs all that follow, and takes from all that have been.

There are so many miracles involved in this. No wonder I wake up every day, wanting to paint.

Sunflower Retrospective

At the suggestion of SLR, friend and follower of my blog, I pulled together my sunflower paintings from 2010 to now...

Interesting! I'd love to hear what any of you think of the progression - and the direction!

Also, if there are any that you like better than the rest, please tell me.

february 2010

November 2010

March 2011

August 2011

August 2011

January 2012

January 2012

January 2012 

February 2012

February 2012

March 2012

April 2012

April 2012

April 2012

Wallkill River School Reception

It was a real treat to see Mary Muegle Sealfon at the show! 

Lita Thorne looks fabulous standing in front of my paintings! 

The show was very well attended! 

Sherry Svec, recovering from double knee replacement (!) came to the show,  and found her old friend Gittel Evangelist there, too. We all worked at the Times Herald-Record at one point or another. 

I am so lucky to have friends who support my work

Howard Garrett told me I am his favorite painter! 

Love the rays of light bouncing on the wall, yes?

Whew, this was a busy weekend! Got up early as usual on Saturday, worked for a few hours on Patch, then I drove to Montgomery, NY, for the reception for "Dreaming in Color," my show with Shawn Dell Joyce.

On the way, I dropped off that big sunflower painting at the gallery in West Hartford, and am happy to report that Lori, who runs the gallery, was pretty pleased with it.

Many friends came to the reception, and it was a joy to see them.  And I met new people, too, who loved my work, and enjoyed watching my demonstration.

Afterwards, I stopped briefly at a reception for three artist friends of mine at the Wolfe Den gallery around the corner - it was a big night for art in Montgomery! - and it was a delight to see them and their extraordinary work.

Then I drove home, and got up early Sunday to work for a few hours on Patch, and then clean house frantically for an event that was scheduled to take place here long before I knew the reception would be the previous day!

But we have a clean house now, and I got some sleep last night, and with any luck, will have the chance to paint today.

To all of you who came to the reception at the Wallkill River School Gallery, thank you. And to all who thought of me but couldn't make it, I am grateful for your good wishes. The support of all my friends, and family, and the followers of this blog mean a great deal to me and my continued success!

Big Sunflowers

Big Sunflowers

Oil on canvas, 30x40

Please contact Center Framing & Art for price and delivery options 

In just an hour or so, I head out for New York for the reception for "Dreaming in Color," my show with Shawn Dell Joyce at the Wallkill River School Gallery in Montgomery, in the mid-Hudson Valley.

A few hours ago, this weekend, with the opening and a myriad of other appointments and events, and the week beyond, with us going to Virginia for the weekend, seemed a mountain I could never climb. Having taken a few steps now, I think that my initial assessment was off. It's not as steep or as high - or as lonely - as I'd feared.

So I set out to the opening feeling light and free, and looking forward to the opportunity to see old friends, meet new ones, talk about my art, and do a demonstration!

If you're in the area, please come. The reception is from 5-7 p.m. tonight (saturday). My demo is at 5:30. The gallery is a lovely place, and my guess is that spring will be dancing exuberantly all around!

For directions, and to learn more about the Wallkill River School and its fabulous line-up of classes, workshops and shows, click here. 

p.s., there's some really cool small stuff in the painting above, so I am attaching a couple detail pix.

Roxanna's Cat - and Paws for Charity

Roxanna's Cat

Oil on canvas, 12x12. Commission

Earlier in the year, I was invited by my friend and fellow artist Lori Rowe  to submit my work to Sara Harley for inclusion in a fund-raising book she produces to help Sheltering Helpless Animals in Distress (SHAID) an animal shelter in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia.

I sent Sara images of some of my paintings, and was accepted into the book.

It's out now, and it's beautiful. You can see and buy the book by clicking here.

It's pretty expensive, though the proceeds go to the shelter. If you'd like to get involved but don't want to spend $37, you can buy a greeting card of one of my paintings, of Jojo (click here) for $3, or a full set of postcards for $10, from 14 artists and 14 photographers, by clicking here.  

To read more about the project, click here to check out Sara's blog - Paws for Charity. 


The book is really gorgeous! And I am honored to be included in this project. 

Salt Marsh Mosaic

Salt Marsh Mosaic

Oil on canvas, 10x10, $100
sold

Easter morning, I awake filled with the hope of reinvigoration, renewal, rebirth - and I realize that I wake with that sense every day. Awake feeling that, yes, this is a new day, full of promise, full of possibility.

Maybe this is why I wake so early. I want to see this day begin, be in on it from the start, watch the sun come up on all that could be. I wake every day with hope, and happiness, and the thought that today, I might get to paint!

So happy Easter to you all, believers and non. May you be blessed with a hopeful spirit and a belief in possibilities, today and every day.

Kemembi

Kemembi

Oil on canvas, 12x12, commission

This morning, I was out later than usual with the dogs. It was 7:30 or so, and the sun had had a chance to rise above the treetops and was warm on my back, even though the air was cold. I love that feeling - a light in a dark place, a song in cacophony.

I have been thinking lately of risk, and the power that comes with taking risks. I think there's something there, something big. I think that taking a risk forces you to put everything that you have on the line, to make the risk pay off.

I might think I do this in real life - but the truth is that I don't. Given the choice, as long as it is cool outside, and I know it, I will stay in and wait for the day to warm. As long as there is safety, and shelter and the luxury of routine, I will stay put, even though it might look otherwise, to people around me, and even to myself.

***

Come on, admit it: You want a portrait of your pet! They're fun, they're bright, they will make you smile. 


All I need to get started is a photo and a downpayment.  Portraits start at $350, and there are all sorts of payment options, including payment over time, and barter! Drop me an email at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com, or call me at 860-442-0246. 


Want your significant other, or your kids, or your parents give you a gift certificate for a pet portrait? Send  me their email and I'll make the suggestion! 

Mosaic Sunflower

Mosaic Sunflower

Oil on canvas, 10x10, $100

When I started the 100x100x100 project - 100 paintings, each 100 square inches, priced at $100, I realized that I needed a name for it. A theme.

I called it "Passages," and figured that the unifying theme would be pathways through the landscape.

Of course, the passages idea has grown to include life passages and art passages. And this painting is me, taking a step into one of these passages.

Intrigued by the painting I did of Brook - especially of the background - I have begun to experiment with something I'm calling mosaic painting - a piece by piece, square by square approach to the canvas.

I like this sunflower, but it's not what I had in my head. Still, it's a start, and I am going to keep pushing at this, because I feel there's something there. I feel I am being led on a path that is going to end me up... where? Somewhere.

Roxanna's Dog

Roxanna's Dog

Oil on canvas, 12x12, commission

The afternoon light is slanting across the back yard, and the hawks have returned to their nest near our driveway.

This delights me. I loved watching them last year, and hearing them - they are red-shouldered hawks, and talkative, noisy even. And they are amazing flyers, somehow making their way through the close-set trees in our grove, even with their huge wingspans.

The bluebirds are back, too, and I expect hummingbirds any day.

Our bloomless daffodils have sent their elegant greenery up again, taunting me for my inability to remember to dig them up and separate them in the fall. And perennials are popping up, too, ones I planted and of course can't remember.

It is spring, and I've been working hard at my job, but with the longer days and richer light, finding good time to paint.

I really love this dog, too. I have been on a roll!

***

If you are in the mid-Hudson Valley of New York, don't forget to check out the show Shawn Dell Joyce and I have at the Wallkill River School Gallery this month, in Montgomery. The reception is April 14, and I'd love to see you there! The show is up to the end of the month.

The gallery is located at 232 Ward St., (Route 17K) in Montgomery. It's open Monday-Saturday. For more, click here! 

Brook

Brook

Oil on canvas, 12x12, not for sale

I have to say that I am on a roll with the pet portraits this week. I've found something new in my painting, something that is better, and lighter, and richer, and more buoyant  - something that delights me more each time.

Isn't that amazing? Isn't it reassuring? But how does it happen? How does work change? How do new ideas spring out of old ones? How does the soul, or spirit, or both, steer themselves towards new joys?

I do not know the answer, I only know it's true. I only know that somewhere deep within us, somewhere that is quiet and exuberant, there is something pure and shining and solid and ever-changing - and if we can find it, if we can let ourselves hear it or see it or experience it, everything changes.