Cooper's Hawk / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / unframed / $68 including shipping
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
Tuesday, January 28, 2020
Monday, January 27, 2020
Flight / oil on canvas / 5x7/ unframed / $68
IN THIS GRAY, dark time, I have found myself seeking anything that looks like hope. Reaching for anything that feels like a promise. Grabbing onto any shred of light and calling it sunshine. I know I am doing this, transforming what might be into what could be, what must be. I know that I have been trying all sorts of things, searching for answers and peace in all sorts of places, assigning them importance and then leaving them behind when they turn out to be just something shiny.
But a few days ago, early in the morning, when dark was just softening into dawn, I heard the song of a spring bird - I don't know what - I didn't try to figure it out - didn't try to nail it down - I just listened and let the sweet, short song raise me with it, and let me think of spring and colors and the brightening of the days.
"Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again, fairer and stronger."
- Hugh Macmillan
Friday, January 24, 2020
Cedar Waxwing / Oil on black canvas / unframed / 5x7 / $68 including shipping
WHEN WE LIVED IN MAINE (Bolster's Mills, in southwest Maine, near Bridgton), we had tons of birds all year round. Peter and I loved watching them, and that was where he started his life list. I found his field guide the other day, and there was his list of all the birds he saw during his life.
One of his favorites, and mine, too, was the cedar waxwing. We'd get them in the fall, and not many of them, but they were reliably perennial, lighting on some tree that had orangey-red berries. They always looked like robber birds, with those dark masks across their faces. They were greedy and funny and noisy and brash, and they made us laugh, every time.
I AM DELIGHTED to let you all know that I now have three patrons! These are folks who've gone to my Blue Sky Patronage Page on the Jacobson Arts website, and enrolled in a program to give me money every month, much as patrons of the arts did in times gone by.
A couple years ago, The New York Times had an interesting article on a small re-emergence of the patronage concept. Working with my prosperity coach, Joe Skelley, I'd already started my program, but I was happy to see that I was in good company.
My patrons get some rewards for this, but none of these folks is doing this for the rewards. They're doing it because they believe in me and want to help make it possible for me to continue to make art. Isn't that amazing? I am grateful beyond measure.
"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn't show."
- Andrew Wyeth
Thursday, January 23, 2020
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Monday, January 20, 2020
Friday, January 17, 2020
Wednesday, January 15, 2020
Tuesday, January 14, 2020
Monday, January 13, 2020
Chickadee on Cherry Branch / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping
THE LITTLE BIRDS - the chickadees and wrens, the sparrows and titmice, the little brown and gray guys - the little birds seem cheery, going about their business without bustle or fuss.
I know this is me anthropomorphizing, but I do watch them, I do pay attention, and really, the little birds have their quiet ways. Some flit up to the feeders and eat there, but most eat on the ground, feasting on seeds the bigger birds toss aside.
The little ones generally don't squawk or fight like the jays, though I've seen them steal plenty of seeds from each other. They don't insist like the cardinals, though I've seen them push and shove and barge their way in. They don't collect devouring clouds like the starlings and crows, though I've seen gangs of them fluttering at the base of a feeder.
They flit and perch, shake their mundane feathers, tip their often drab heads and stay mostly in the background, as important as all the others, but staying quiet about it.
"Little flocks of Black-capped Chickadees enliven the winter woods with their active behavior and their cheery-sounding chick-a-dee callnotes as they fly from tree to tree, often accompanied by an assortment of nuthatches, creepers, kinglets, and other birds. This is a very popular bird across the northern United States and southern Canada, always welcomed at bird feeders, where it may take sunflower seeds one at time and fly away to stuff them into bark crevices. "
- From the Audubon Guide to North American Birds