Eastern Mockingbird / oil on canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping
DURING THE SUMMER OF THE COVID, I was lucky enough to be part of a group that had yoga sessions outdoors, under a tree on the front lawn of a church in Pungoteague.
I loved it, I think we all did, this small community of older women practicing yoga - OK, old women practicing yoga (and here is a question that just popped up for me: Why are "older women" younger than "old women"???)
In one session, as summer turned to fall, a mockingbird began to sing. He sang and sang and sang, for the entire 90 minutes of yoga, dozens of songs, one after another, a bouquet of joy and sunshine.
I was telling this to someone, though, and they asked me if I didn't think it was sad that the mockingbird didn't have his own song.
"The painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through."
- Jackson Pollock