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Saturday, August 19, 2017

You Know You Will

You Know You Will
Oil on black canvas, 30x30

It's hard to tell, from this photograph, how bright and full of life and sunshine this painting is. This one is another of those big steps for me, a leap that brings all that I've been doing into a new light, a new place. There's a new feeling in this one, and it is something about freedom, and bliss and the simple cheerfulness of a sunny hillside on a summer afternoon.

I've worked and worked on this photograph, hoping to make it reflect the painting more truly, but this is the best I can do. In the piece, bright green dominates, and the orangey pinks of the spiky flowers hum and resonate over the green, above the blue and purple, all under a clear, sunny sky.

Unless it sells beforehand, I'll have this piece at my next show, which is CenterFest, in Durham, NC, Sept. 16-17. Click here for more info!  And if you'd like to see this piece before I leave for Durham, please drop me a line, and come visit me in Wachapreague.

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Here's a Pair that Beats a Full House

Hahahaha, it's my brother Rand (right) and his childhood-into-adulthood friend Jon, on a recent trip to Cape Cod. 

I can explain the T-shirts - the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts chose one of my paintings for their T-shirt design this year, and I gave a couple to Rand. 

I can't explain the shorts. 

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Dog of the Day

This is the dog of a friend I met on Facebook, and then later met in real life, near the Suwannee River, east of Jacksonville, Florida. It was such fun to meet her in real life! 

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A Final Thought

"I don't want life to imitate art. I want life to be art."
- Carrie Fisher

Friday, August 18, 2017

Salt Marsh Morning

Salt Marsh Morning
Oil on black canvas, 10x10, $125
sold

This is the the first of the paintings destined for the 2018 Wachapreague calendar. I think it's fitting that it's our lovely salt marsh, on a clear, bright spring morning, before the world has woken up.

The marsh is what drew me first to Wachapreague. I arrived on an October afternoon, and the thick, golden light had illuminated the marsh, below a sky so clear, so tender blue, it made my heart ache.

Right now, the marsh is a brilliant, soft green, and the water shimmering turquoise. I will paint it soon, in its summer glory. Then will come the fall, when the grass turns deep gold, and the dark boggy earth seems to be at its richest. Winter and spring look much the same on the marsh, as everything sinks in and down in the thin gray light, and all that is living in the marsh rests and gathers energy for the growth and thrill that is the summer here on the Eastern Shore.

You'll be able to get calendars through me, and through Seaside Antiques, here in Wachapreague. I'll let you know when they're available (should be October).

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I'VE BEEN AWAY, at shows up and down the East Coast, and all the way out to Minneapolis and back. I had a great time, met lots of people, sold lots of paintings, and made some new friends. Here are some happy buyers from my trip!







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Dog of the Day

It's Doc, Lulu and Koko, piled up on top of you know who - me! This is after I got back from three-plus weeks on the road. It was the best dogpile I've ever been in! 

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A Final Thought

"Treat a work of art like a prince: Let it speak to you first." 
- Arthur Schopenhauer










Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Manny, Moe and Jeff

Manny, Moe and Jeff
Oil on canvas, 36x60
Please click here to email me for price and availability

This painting started its life looking a little different. The sky was pretty much the same, and the road to the left was pretty much the same, and the mountains were sort of the same, but the cows were smaller, the trees were smaller, the water was smaller, and the colors - still a little out of my comfort zone - were a little more quiet. 

I wanted to like it, but just couldn't, even though people liked it, and I was going to paint over it. Instead, I really looked. I searched for what was bothering me, for why I wasn't in love with this cowscape. It took a while, but it came to me, and I was able to make the changes that are making it work. 

This is a process that's happened a few times to me now. It is still a new process, of improving rather than tossing out. And it's a process I hope I can bring to other parts of my life, including my own sense of self. 

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Shows! 
I'm sending a big thank you to everyone who came to the shows this summer, took the time to look at my paintings and talk with me! And a special thanks to all of you who bought paintings! Each sale is a miracle, and I appreciate each one very much. 

I'll be on the road for a few weeks, starting tomorrow. Here's my schedule: 

Stamford, CT, July 29-30, Harbor Point, Booth 20
Uptown Art Festival, Minneapolis, MN, Aug. 4-6, Booth 3407 on the mall
Mystic Outdoor Art Festival, Mystic, CT, Aug. 12-13, corner of Willow and East Main
and Centerfest, Durham, NC,   Sept. 16-17

Hope to see you there! 

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Dog of the Day

Pals! Saw these guys at the show in State College, PA. 

Want your pet to be the Dog of the Day? Send me a jpg at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com

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A Final Thought
“Some people are born to make great art and others are born to appreciate it. … 
It is a kind of talent in itself, to be an audience, whether you are the spectator in the gallery or you are listening to the voice of the world's greatest soprano. 
Not everyone can be the artist. 
There have to be those who witness the art, 
who love and appreciate what they have been privileged to see.” 
- Ann Patchett

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Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Feels Like Home

Feels Like Home
Oil on black canvas, 16x16 
Please click here to email me for price and availability

I get mental blocks about the names of things - and sometimes of people, too.  I seem to have a particularly slippery spot in my brain for the names of shade plants. I just had to look up "hydrangea," which is what these are, in the painting above.

I can describe them completely, in terms of color, scent, the feel of the blossoms and leaves - but I can't seem to hold their name in my head.

The same holds true for astilbes and hostas. I love all these plants, love to see them, love to grow them, love to paint them - but I just can't remember them.

Maybe part of painting for me is to strengthen my visual memory, in places where my brain memory just doesn't make it?

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Wickford Art Festival



Unless the hydrangea painting sells beforehand, I will have it with me at the Wickford Art Festival this weekend, July 8-9. I'm Booth 82, on Elam Street at the junction with Spinx. It's such a fun show, in a beautiful little town. For information, check out WickfordArt.org.

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Dog of the Day

Cute! 

Want your pet to be the Dog of the Day?
 Send a jpg to me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com 
(ps, your pet doesn't have to be a dog...) 

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A Final Thought

"Color is my daylong obsession, joy and torment." 

- Claude Monet

Saturday, July 1, 2017

Today's Forecast

 Today's Forecast 
Oil on canvas, 15x60
sold

I was inspired to paint "Today's Forecast" from a photograph that a collector of my paintings posted on Facebook.

The photo was of her own cows, whom I've met - and painted, too! And she ended up buying the painting, so it feels like it has gone full circle.

I love the photograph so much, though, that I might make another somewhat like it, in a different format. We shall see.

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Speaking of Cows

One of my paintings has been chosen as the art T-shirt for the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts! This is a huge show, one of the top shows in the country, and I am honored that a painting of mine has been selected. 

The festival takes place July 13-16 in State College, PA. I'll be in Booth O-20, on Fairmount Avenue. For more information, and to reach the store where you can buy a T-shirt, please click here. 

The weekend before the State College show, July 8-9, I'll be at the Wickford, RI, Fine Arts Festival. I'll be on Elam Street. 

This is a marvelous fine-art show, in one of the most charming villages in Rhode Island. I'm really looking forward to it! For more information on this show, please click here. 

And the final weekend in July, the 29th and 30th, I'll be at a show in Stamford, CT, a new show for me. For info on that one, please click here. 

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Dog of the Day

It's Loki, a sweetie who lives with a dear friend of mine in Arivaca, Arizona. 
Bet he's staying inside this summer! It's been 110 and hotter out there. 

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A Final Thought

"Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is like a train of moods, 
like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be 
many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue." 

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thursday, June 22, 2017

If Wishes Were

If Wishes Were
Oil on black canvas, 40x40

This year, this solstice, I am feeling the full, sweet breadth of summer. The days stretch out, thick with heat and humidity, a mist of it in the distance, softening the edges of the future, the edges of the past.

This solstice, I feel the sweet breath of summer, close on my neck, brushing my hair, pushing hot against my arms and feet and broad, working shoulders. I stand out in the daylight, under brilliant sunshine, in this June that feels like July, and the heat pushes into my bones, and draws the sweat and salt from me as it pulls the paintings from my heart and from my soul.

This solstice, this spring, this summer, has been about flowers, the warm deep earth, the grass growing like thoughts in a sleepless night. These days of heat and light have brought a bounty of beauty to me, and I've seen this world in ways I never had, in the slimmer, slighter, paler weeks of winter.

***
Dog of the Day

This shy guy didn't mind the art show, but felt safer hiding behind his human.

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A Final Thought

"If it weren't for greed, intolerance, hate, passion and murder, 
you would have no works of art, no great buildings, no medical science, no Mozart, 
no Van Gogh, no Muppets and no Louis Armstrong." 

- Jasper Fforde 




Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Blue Evening

Blue Evening
Oil on canvas, 24x36
sold

Between my recent show in Northampton, MA, and my show in Roanoke, VA, I got sick. Felt it coming on, in my nose first, then my throat, then, as I was driving from Rhode Island to Roanoke, I felt it grabbing hold of me and digging in. Ugh. I got sicker and sicker, the closer I came to Roanoke. It was a long drive - and I think it was a beautiful drive, too, though most of the time, I was concentrating too hard to notice. 

The thing I did notice was the afternoon slipping into evening, the light slipping into shadow, and the brilliance of the day's sunshine slipping into soft shades of blue and purple. I held the image with me through an encounter with a bad hotel and a move to a new one, through a hot set-up in Roanoke, through the show, through my sickness and the heat and the sweat and the happy sales, and when I got home, I painted this. 

I was short on canvases, and painted it over a painting of people skiing. The skiing piece was one I'd always liked, but it had never sold, and so I sacrificed it to "Blue Evening." It makes an even more interesting surface than usual! 

This piece sold so quickly because it went out in an early email to my patrons. That's one of the advantages of my burgeoning patron program - you get to see the pieces before everyone else! There are other rewards, too, in addition to knowing that you're helping me live my dream. To check it out, visit the Patronage Plan page on my website, Jacobson Arts, or click here. 

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Dog of the Day

Here's Daisy, an old girl who visited me at the show in Tubac. A word to you dog owners out there... It's probably too hot to take your dog to an art show this summer. It's a mistake I've made, and I will never forget my dear Gus practically keeling over from the heat at an art show I thought he'd enjoy attending. Here's a poster from National Safety Inc.


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A Final Thought

"Art is making something out of nothing, and selling it." 

- Frank Zappa





Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Sweet Amarillo

I'm setting out on a month of shows, and part of me is dreading it - the driving, the setting up and taking down, the uncertainty - most of me is looking forward to it.

But the same things that fill me with dread fill me with joy, as crazy as that sounds. I love the driving. I enjoy the physical challenge of setting up and taking down. I thrive on the rush of uncertainty, the thrill of making sales, of seeing people fall in love with my paintings.

***

A note here... I wrote this just before a string of shows - and I failed to post it! The shows - Paradise City in Northampton, MA; the Sidewalk Art Show in Roanoke, VA; and the Art and Wine Festival in Annapolis, MD, all were good to me. This painting, and many others, sold during these three shows, and I took a weekend off - didn't go, as scheduled to Indianapolis - and painted.

This weekend, I'll be at the Howard Alan Art and Craft show in Huntersville NC, just outside of Charlotte.

After that, it's Fine Art Festival in Wickford, RI, July 8-9, and the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts in State College, PA, July 13-16, then back here for a week or so, and then back to Connecticut for the Stamford Art Festival, July 29-30. Whew!

Thank you so very much to all of you who came to the shows in Northampton, Roanoke and Annapolis, and a special thank you to the folks who bought paintings from me. All of you - buyers, lookers, friends - make this journey possible. And all of you help make it exciting and engaging.

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Dog of the Day
Lulu, on the right, is at the bottom of the heap in the wide world of dogs here at 18 Bayview in Wachapreague. All she wants is to be Koko's best friend. Koko, on the left, wants nothing to do with her. She snarls and growls, but it never goes farther than that. After Koko lets Lulu know that she needs to stay in her place, they almost inevitably curl up and snuggle. 


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A Final Thought

"A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, 
those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened." 
- Albert Camus





Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Alpaca Farm

Alpaca Farm
Oil on black canvas, 20x20

This morning, this wet and rainy and cold and dreary morning, Doc picked up a fallen baby bird from the wet grass and brought it to its death, or nearly to its death, which is even worse. I got it away from him and put it on a paper towel outside of the yard. I don't know if it was dead yet, but there was no way to save it. I could not bring myself to deliver the final blow. Couldn't.

The poor thing was tiny, teeny, and wet to the skin, and I can't stop crying about how scary and cold and painful its death must have been. I got so mad at Doc that I made him and his sister go into their crate, and I am mad at myself because I know it is just his nature, and I shouldn't be angry. Doc couldn't have grabbed the little bird from its nest, so it must have fallen or been pushed, but no matter what happened, it's just broken my heart on this gray, cold morning. 

I said a little prayer for the teeny bird, and apologized for Doc's part in its death, and for mine. I just hope the tiny thing passed quickly into peace, out of pain, into a soft, warm place far away from here. 

When I was young, I wanted to be a veterinarian. I failed calculus, and that ended my hopes. Now, I am thankful, so thankful, that I didn't make it. There's little in life that makes me more sad than seeing an animal in pain. 

***
There is no Dog of the Day today. I just can't. 

***
A Final Thought

"Art is to console those who are broken by life." 

- Vincent Van Gogh




Saturday, May 20, 2017

I Knew Love


 Knew Love
Oil on canvas, 20x20

It feels like I've found somewhat of a niche - flowers. Even more than landscapes, even more than cows, the florals elicit reactions and sales.

While this delights me, it also scares me a little bit. Do I want to be a flower painter? Do I want to be known as "that woman who paints the flowers"?

But then again, if that happens - for a long moment or a short one - is it so bad?

A friend of mine, Teresa Haag (click here to see her art), a nice person who is a fabulous artist, has a strong niche - cityscapes, particularly in and around Philadelphia. Her paintings are gorgeous, her palette is exciting, her approach is unusual and her technique is marvelous. At a recent show, a collector came into her booth and bought all her paintings.

This is every artist's dream, of course! I've thought about it a lot, since it happened last weekend, and realized that she made it more possible, more probable, by having a tightly controlled focus - and, of course, wonderful paintings!

I'm not a tightly controlled, tightly focused person, and not a TC, TF painter. I'm not sure I want to be. It's fine to be known as that flower painter - but I think I will always have cowscapes, landscapes, dogs and whatever else interests me, even if it dilutes my presentation.

That being said, if you know someone who wants to buy a booth full of bright, palette-knife paintings, heavily floral, please send them to me! Next show is Paradise City, in Northampton, MA, May 27-29 (Memorial Day weekend).

What are your thoughts?

***
Birthday! 

ON TUESDAY, I turned 61 - YIKES! - and  I was overwhelmed by my birthday celebrations. Above, what I found when I woke up. Below, tulips from my dad and Paula. Left, my birthday dinner - meatloaf, asparagus and tater tots, cooked by my dear husband. My gifts included plants of all varieties, a water cannon to use for canine management (or whatever), a Stanley thermos, a gorgeous scarf and books, a cordless drill, tomatoware and two Buddha lamps, and a perfect tomato. Also, Peter is pruning the shrubbery around the entire house! About a million people sent me birthday wishes on Facebook, everyone in the family called, and I was treated like a queen. Thank you, everyone who made my birthday such a celebration.


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Dog of the Day


It's Molly, the feral cat adopted by Jacki, our postmistress. Molly was waiting for breakfast! 

Want your pet to be the Dog of the Day? Send a jpg to me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com

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A Final Thought

"I am no longer afraid of becoming lost, because the journey back 
always reveals something new, and that is ultimately good for the artist." 
- Billy Joel



Monday, May 15, 2017

Babe

Babe
Oil on black canvas, 12x48

Sometimes, I paint on traditionally shaped canvases, 16x20, 36x48, etc., but I prefer square canvases or ones that have ratios of 1:3 or 1:4, so 10x20, 12x36, 12x48, etc.

I've written a bit about these long canvases , and how the shape can suggest content. I've thought about canvas shape ever since I wrote that "Dogwood" entry, and I think that part of my response to the odd shape comes from my years of working in newspapers.

As a page designer, and the boss of page designers, I spent lots of time working with photographs. At a couple of the papers - the Virginian-Pilot and Times Herald-Record primarily - page designers worked hard with photographs and photographers to put as much graphic power as possible into the art. This often ended up in interesting crops. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn't, but the experiments always taught me something.

So the house in "Home Away from Home" (or, frankly, any of my "Big Field, Little House" paintings) doesn't need to have windows or porches or chimneys; the painting is not about the house. The dogs in my portraits (like Red) don't need to have legs or tails. And the cows in the long skinny cowscapes don't need to have legs, either, or noses. The crop focuses the painting on the interesting part, and leaves it there.

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Stuff I've Seen
My friend Julie is a master gardener and a member of the Eastern Shore Master Gardeners Association. She not only planted this beautiful shade garden, but also built the lovely, curving path through it. Her garden and others were open on Friday for viewing. 



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Dog of the Day
Another cousin of Doc and Lulu! Met this Australian cattle dog at the show 
in Tubac, Arizona. He was quite a serious fellow. 

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A Final Thought

"The job is what you do when you are told what to do. The job is showing up at the factory, following instructions, meeting spec, and being managed. 

Someone can always do your job a little better or faster or cheaper than you can. 
The job might be difficult, it might require skill, but it's a job. 

Your art is what you do when no one can tell you exactly how to do it. Your art is the act of taking personal responsibility, challenging the status quo, and changing people. 

I call the process of doing your art 'the work.' It's possible to have a job and do the work, too. In fact, that's how you become a linchpin. 

The job is not the work." 

- Seth Godin


Sunday, May 14, 2017

Storm on the Salt Marsh

Storm on the Salt Marsh
Oil on black canvas, 20x20

When I drove into town - on a lark, six or seven years ago - the salt marsh captured my eyes and my heart right away. I set up and painted. It was late September or early October, and the marsh was golden, the sky a light blue tailing up to manganese, and the light was round and bright and loaded with color.

I've painted the marsh again and again since that first meeting, and over the years, have begun to get to know her moods and colors, the rhythm of wind and season, the sway of the marsh grasses on a windy, rainy day, and the every-enticing colors of her landscape.

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Stuff I've Seen

On the way to Harborton stands this adorable little store, run by a woman named Eva. Every day, it is stocked with fresh vegetables and fruit, frozen soup, fresh or frozen homemade bread, and delicious-smelling baked goods. 

Eva's is all serve-yourself. Prices are written on post-its, and you're trusted to do the math correctly, not steal anything, and put your money in a little box on the outside of the building. 

At one time, Eva grew everything in the store. That, apparently, has changed, but she gets as much local produce as she can, grows what she can, and does all the baking. It's a real treat! 





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Dog of the Day

Met this guy out in Tubac, Arizona! What a beauty. 

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A Final Thought

"Art is the reason I get up in the morning, but the definition ends there. 
It doesn't seem fair that I'm living for something I can't even define." 

- Ani DiFranco




Saturday, May 13, 2017

Patty's Song

Patty's Song
Oil on canvas, 20x20

It's been raining here, raining and raining and raining, and while all that rain brings its issues - smelly, muddy dogs; a halt to the flower-planting; two leaks in the roof - it also creates a marvelous, quiet, focused atmosphere in which to paint. My studio (left) is the former boat garage, in the back yard, over near the west neighbors. On warm days, I leave the front and back doors open, and open all the windows. This is great for letting in the breeze, the sun and the light, but it also lets in the dogs and all their barking. Running in one door and out the other is a great game for them, too, and while I don't mind, it is distracting. But in the rain, my dog friends aren't interested in playing in the yard. Even when they are, no one is out to be barked at.

I've enjoyed the focused time to paint, and hope you like the pieces I've created. This one is from a gorgeous photograph taken by my talented friend Patty. 

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Stuff I've Seen


Hahahaha! Saw this turkey-painted rock on the road to Arivaca, Arizona. I love that someone saw this, thought about it and then went back and painted it. 

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Dog of the Day
Saw this loony Australian shepherd at the Richmond show. A cousin of Doc and Lulu! 

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A Final Thought

"All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, 
general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art." 

- Roman Payne