Cape Charles Sunset

 Cape Charles Sunset / oil on black canvas / 11x14 / $250

sold

MY KOKO is staying with my friend Susan while I'm in Arizona, and Koko's absence has changed the dynamic of this house more that I ever thought it would. And it's changed my view of her, as well. 

Every morning, when she is here, she comes into the bedroom and greets me, wagging and curling her body around in a circle, so that her wagging tail is close to her nose. Often, she sniffs my butt with that always wet, always cold nose, then stations herself in front of me begging to be petted, blocking me step by step as I try to walk into the kitchen. 

When it's time for breakfast - and she knows the time with remarkable accuracy and certainty - she barks and barks and leaps into the air, spinning around in circles in her excitement. She gets the other dogs all riled up, too. I put down Woody's food first, then I get the Demons into their apartment and put down their food and shut their door, and at this, Koko jumps up, bonks me in the butt with her forepaws, and runs into the kitchen where she barks and spins around in circles before spending all of 8 or 9 seconds devouring her meal. 

Koko knows what time I should go to the studio, and if I seem to not be complying, stands in front of me and barks until I either shut her down or give in. When I pick up my phone , and unplug the computer to go to the studio, she barks wildly and leaps around. Then, outside, she finds a toy or a stick and comes charging at me in her play run, front legs stiff, shaking her head and murdering whatever she has between her mouth. 

At the end of the studio time, when I turn off the heater and the lights, she often jumps up on me (this is forbidden), begging for kisses, and then she barks and spins, so happy to be going inside. 

When I pull out the leashes for our walk, she barks and leaps and spins and stirs everyone up. We often meet Liesl, my walking partner, in the street, and I will drop Koko's leash when I see Liesl coming around the corner, and let Koko run down Bayview to greet Liesl. Koko races down the road, tail wagging, and jumps up on Liesl, kissing her and groaning at her, with funny little throaty groans. 

Whenever visitors come to the house, Koko adores them. She greets with barking, jumping delight, and climbs up in their laps, staying as long as they will allow her. In the evenings, Koko snuggles between my legs on the couch, demanding to be petted, often licking me until I have to yell at her to make her stop. And at the end of the day, she jumps up on the bed, snuggling - and then leaves to sleep in a chair in the living room. 

Her behavior and how I feel with her gone makes me think of my own self, and how Peter must have felt when I went away on trips. Koko is a lot to handle. I am a lot to handle. Koko is loud, enthusiastic, demanding. I am loud, enthusiastic, demanding. Annoying, even. But I miss her loud, irritating, annoying enthusiasm. The days without her have been less colorful, less fun, less full of life. I am pretty sure this is how Peter felt. On one hand, it was good to get a break from me. On the other hand, life was less interesting without me here. 

Until Koko went to stay with Susan, I did not know that Koko was the enthusiasm leader of the pack. I didn't realize how much energy she has, how much delight she pumps into the days. I did not realize that it was her, more than any of the others, who required me to keep living after Peter died. I just didn't know. And while I'm sure I will be irritated with her from time to time when she comes back, I know from now on, I will go far out of my way to adore her, to honor the blessing that she is in my life. 

Above, Koko and Lulu, when Lulu was a puppy

Koko waiting to see Liesl

She wanted that cookie so much, I eventually gave it to her.

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Coda

Every Dog's Story

I have a bed, my very own.

It's just my size.

And sometimes I like to sleep alone

with dreams inside my eyes. 

But sometimes dreams are dark and wild and creepy

and I wake and am afraid, though I don't know why.

But I'm no longer sleepy

and too slowly the hours go by. 

So I climb on the bed where the light of the moon

is shining on your face

and I know it will be morning soon. 

Everybody needs a safe place.

- Mary Oliver

JJ

JJ

Goache and oil on canvas, 12x12

So here is the second of the great-grandkid portraits. In some ways, this was easier than Emmett's portrait. JJ is older than Emmett, and it seems that the younger the kid, the more difficult the portrait (at least for me). 

Kids' faces are still changing! Things are not quite where you'd expect them to be. The forehead on a child is different, in terms of how much space it takes up, than the forehead of an adult, for instance. The eyes seem to be spaced differently. The mouth is in a different spot than it seems to be in adults. None of these are huge differences, but they're all there, and they seem to matter.

Also, JJ's dad, our grandson John, is half-African American. So JJ is a quarter African-American, and has beautiful, caramel-colored skin. It's lovely to look at, but difficult to capture. This painting bears a passing resemblance to JJ, and it was a good effort. 

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Here's Peter in a hat Erika gave him for Christmas. The hat went to Afghanistan with a friend of Erika's, who is in the National Guard. I think it suits Peter to a T! 

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Dog of the Day

Met this girl at the vet a few weeks ago. She was not real happy to be there. 

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

"If people knew how hard I worked to get my mastery, it wouldn't seem so wonderful at all."

- Michelangelo

Autumn on the Eastern Shore - and How I Love Living Here

Autumn on the Eastern Shore

Oil on canvas, 10x10, $100

To buy this painting, please click here to email me! 

Texas treated me well, indeed. I had two good shows, met really nice, really friendly people, and saw beautiful sights all over the state. 

But when I drove across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel and onto the Eastern Shore, I found myself letting out a whoop and holler of sheer, unadulterated joy. It wasn't only that I was heading home, to my husband and our dogs and our house and our friends, but that all of that was in this place that so delights and moves me. 

Time and again, I drive onto the Eastern Shore and I am simply filled with gratitude that after living in all these places over all these years, Peter and I found our home. I've loved places where we've lived, but I have never felt so centered or so delightfully settled. 

I took the photo below as I was driving that last stretch on my way home from Texas. I thought about stopping to paint, but I really wanted just to get home, to hug Peter, pet the dogs, and stop driving. 

Much of the draw is our home, and our friends, the people, and Wachapreague itself. But I love the Eastern Shore as a painter, too. Partly, I think, I'm attracted to the simplicity of the landscape. Even more, though, is the light. With the Atlantic on one side, the Chesapeake Bay on the other, and virtually no air pollution at all, the light has a roundness, a golden color, and, often, a sort of brilliant, thin pink that warms everything it touches. 

Above, the photo of the sorghum field I painted. 

Below, three pix of the Eastern Shore I took on

Friday evening. 

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Dog of the Day

Abby, Smokey and Woody having a good howl. You can hear Jojo howling in the other room. 

Dream Away

Dream Away

Oil on canvas, 10x10

sold 

Sometimes, I paint a scene because it is so beautiful, so breathtaking, that it demands to be painted. "Miss You Already, Lou Reed" was one of those. It was just a field that Peter and I drove by late on October afternoon, when the light was round and rich and warm, and it lighted up the field and its white shell driveway. I made him stop, and I looked hard so I could remember, and took a photo - which never really captures the saturated colors that so often call to me. Two days later, before the October light truly left, I went back and painted.

And then there are the scenes that intrigue me because they capture my imagination. This little houseboat is one of those.

For years, I've pestered Peter to sell all our stuff and live in either an RV or a houseboat. He has, intelligently, pointed out that we have six dogs and two cats, and so either situation would be pretty nightmarish.

And he's right. Beyond the dogs, though, my husband wants to have a home that's attached to the ground. He wants roots - and he knows that without them, I wouldn't do well, either.

But wouldn't it be fun to have a houseboat as a weekend getaway place? As a camp. I'm sure that's what this one is used for.

The houseboat, in Willis Wharf, just down the road.

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THESE DUCKS or geese or whatever they are are always hanging around Willis Wharf. Click here to see a YouTube video of these quackers carefully making their way across the mud flats. 

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                                                                  Did you vote? Jojo did! 
                                              

                                            Dog of the Day

This is Nia McLoughlin's happy girl, comfy on her bed in a patch of November sunlight. 

Sunflowers - and Hnngghhh!

Kari's Sunflowers

Oil on canvas, 10x10

Commission

Peter came home the other day laughing. He'd gone to the vegetable stand down the road and bought tomatoes and something else, some kind of sweet potato that he'd never seen before. 

He asked the person selling the veggies what it was, and she said, "Hnnggh!" 

"What is it?" Peter said. "Pardon?"

"Hnngghh!" she said. 

And my dear husband, who pretty clearly was never going to understand what that woman was saying, just gave up and bought the hnngghh, two of them, actually. He brought them home, and cooked them, and they were delicious. 

So today, I talked to my friend Pat, who's lived here all her life - so far. 

She said that hngghh are haymen, an Eastern Shore delicacy. And there's apparently a very distinct way to treat, cook and enjoy the haymen. I took a video of Pat explaining. Click here to see it on YouTube.

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On the Easel

It's a commission, 24x72, and I'm really excited about it!

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Dog of the Day

Hahahaha! Aren't goats wonderful and STRANGE? 

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

October Afternoon - and Horrible-Looking Bug

October Afternoon

Oil on canvas, 10x10

sold

These autumn days are great for painting - and great for living,  too. For reasons I don't understand, the light gathers up a clear, round quality that, to my eyes, enriches all the colors, all the shapes, all the shadows of the earth. 

The wind blows cool and crisp through the sun-warmed afternoons, and on Virginia's Eastern Shore, the world turns yellow and bronze and gold. Here and there, I see a crimson tree, a flare of orange in a pine-green wood - the merest whisper of New England's loud October voice. 

Yesterday, Jojo and I spent pretty much the whole day in the studio, painting. I'm addressing a lovely series of commissions, and it is a joy to be able to paint dogs and cats and landscapes with the doors open, the October breeze blowing through, and my faithful companion at my side. 

This painting and another new one are on auction at Daily Paintworks. To see my gallery, click on the icon on the right of this posting, or click here: http://www.dailypaintworks.com/Artists/carrie-jacobson-4216.

The auctions end on Monday at 8 p.m. 

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WHILE JOJO HAS protected me from pirates, vandals and marauders, she has clearly not kept me safe from huge, disgusting bugs, as you can see below:

I don't know WHAT this thing is, but it was about 3 inches from stem to stern, prehistoric looking, and pretty darn frightening. However, it seemed harmless enough. I put an empty paper towel roll in front of it, and it climbed aboard, and then happily (?) climbed onto a leaf outside - far away from the studio. 

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Dog of the Day

I met Pam at the Stockley Gardens show in Norfolk in the spring. It was a good show for me, and lots of fun. Between then and now, Pam and her fam got Pemba. She's a golden doodle, and Pam says Pemba will fetch sticks all day from the Elizabeth River - no matter how chilly the day. 

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