Bluebird on Post

Bluebird on Post / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 includes shipping

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I LOVE TIE-DYE. I always have, though up until a few years ago, I hadn't worn it in decades. But I had a couple pieces, and after I saw Peter wearing interesting combinations of prints and colors, I decided to start wearing my tie-dye pieces again.

Not only did I not worry if I had an interesting pattern on the top and a different interesting pattern on the bottom, I began seeking different interesting patterns - what a friend's mother used to call "fancies." One fancy was fine, she would tell him, but two fancies were a no-no. Whenever possible, I go for three fancies. Or more! 

A few years ago, I found a maker of wonderful tops - Cranky Girl Tie Dye (https://www.etsy.com/shop/CrankyGirlTieDye). I have bought Ts and sweatshirts from her for years. Peter was cremated in one of my Cranky Girl sweatshirts. He loved it when I wore that sweatshirt, and he coveted it, so it seemed right to send it with him. 

Late last year, I realized that I could get tie-dye pants, if I hunted for them. And I did have to hunt, but I found a marvelous maker! Her name is Carmen, and she is also on Etsy, at Ogeechee River Tie Dye (https://www.etsy.com/shop/ogeecheerivertiedye/) 

In the photo of Doc and me by the Dogfish sign, which I believe I posted recently, I am wearing Ogeechee River Tie Dye pants and a Cranky Girl tie-dye top. And my jacket makes a third fancy! 

The bluebird in the painting comes from a photo that Carmen took in her backyard! 

***

For Today

"The world cares very little about what a man or woman knows; 

it is what a man or woman is able to do that counts." 

- Booker T. Washington

Mrs. Bluebird

 Mrs. Bluebird / oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 including shipping

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IN THE MORNINGS, my friend Liesl and I walk three of my four dogs. Sometimes, we take Woody, but he is 14, mostly blind and mostly deaf, and, while he wants to go on the walks, and is pretty much capable of them, he is a menace, weaving all over the place on his leash, and stopping again and again, to poop in the middle of the road, or just to stop. It is a small miracle that I haven't fallen over him and broken things, on one or both of us.

I think that Liesl (our favorite Austrian) has a well-ordered and calm life - outside of the chaos of Doc, Lulu and Koko. And so it is doubly great that she helps me walk them. 

For months, we have been letting Koko and Doc run around in a little park along the marsh. At first, it was just Koko, with her leash trailing behind. Then we let Doc run, again with his leash trailing. I call them to me, again and again, and reward them with treats, and they've been learning. And the leashes are off.

But yesterday was a beautiful, sunny, breezy day, and Doc decided it was a perfect day to romp off, scamper through yards and pretend that I was calling him in some foreign language, or maybe in a totally inaudible voice. 

Wachapreague is a place without many cars, though there are some, and at that time of the morning, in that part of town, there are usually no dogs out. So it ended up OK, with Doc cavorting back not to me but to Liesl, who had Koko and Lulu on their leashes. 

After the excitement, I said that I was mad at Doc, and exasperated. 

"Why would he run off like that?" I asked. "He knows better!" 

And Liesl told me to be happy that he had come back, and to not take it personally. "It was a beautiful day and he decided it was a good day for a run," she said. "It had nothing to do with you."

Of course, she is right. And so I will make every effort to remember this incident in the future - and not only when the situation is dog-related. 

***

Would you please do me a favor?

SOMETIME THIS WEEK or next, when you read one of these blogs that you like, would you please send it to one or two friends and ask them to sign up to receive it by email? I would really appreciate it. 

The email sign up box is on the right hand side of the blog - http://carriejacobson.blogspot.com

It means a great deal to me when people read what I write, and also when they buy my paintings. The more people who see the blog, the better my chances of finding happy readers and happy buyers. 

Thank you! 

***

For Today

"Every work of art which really moves us is in some degree a revelation - it changes us." 

- Lawren Harris

Bluebird on Redbud

Bluebird on Redbud / oil on black canvas / 8x10 / $98 including shipping

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HERE IN WACHAPREAGUE, the bluebirds are back. I've only seen two, and those were mere glimpses, but there's nothing else that is quite that particular blue.

My backyard feeders are full of seeds and full of hungry birds. No social distancing here! I am glad to see them back, eating their full, chattering, lighting the yard with color. No bluebirds have come to the feeder yet, but I remain hopeful and watchful.

***

For Today

The Dipper

Once I saw

in a quick-falling, white-veined stream,

among the leafed islands of the wet rocks,

a small bird, and knew it

from the pages of a book; it was

the dipper, and dipping he was,

as well as, sometimes, on a rock-peak, starting up

the clear, strong pipe of his voice; at this,

there being no words to transcribe, I had to

bend forward, as it were,

into his frame of mind, catching

everything I could in the tone,

cadence, sweetness, and briskneww

of his affirmative report.

Though not by words, it was

a more than satisfactory way to the

bridge of understanding. This happened

in Colorado

more than a half century ago - 

more certainly, than half my lifetime ago -

and, just as certainly, he has been sleeping for decades

in the leaves beside the stream,

his crumble of white bones, his curl of flesh

comfortable even so. 

And I still hear him - 

and whenever I open the ponderous book of riddles

he sits with his black feet hooked to the page,

his eyes cheerful, still burning with water-love - 

and thus the world is full of leaves and feathers

and comfor, and instruction. I do not even remember

your name, great river, 

but since that hour I have lived

simply,

in the joy of the body as full and clear

as falling water; the pleasures of the mind

like a dark bird dipping in and out, tasting and singing. 

- Mary Oliver

This Must Be Love

This Must Be Love / oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping

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OF COURSE, IT'S NEXT TO IMPOSSIBLE to ignore the economic calamity that this virus is forcing on so many Americans, including myself and so many of my friends and family members. 

But there are some positive aspects to the situation. Without all the airplanes, the air is clearer. Probably the temperature of the planet will drop noticeably - it did after 9/11, and it wouldn't surprise me if it did now.

I find that, for me, at least, it is OK to be not rushing all over the place all the time. Meetings I go to, gatherings I attend, they're just not happening.

I'm not shopping anywhere near as much as I usually do, and neither is anyone else. But when I am in the grocery stores, I find that people are talking to each other, and laughing, and living together in this shared new moment.

On the streets of my little town, the same thing is happening. It seems everyone is walking, and neighbors are stopping neighbors, just to chat, to discuss the virus - or NOT the virus - and to take a moment to slow down and really ask about life.

I know that this is a tiny Pollyanna-ish point of light in the middle of a terrible siege, but it is something to consider.

***

Thought for the Day

"You do not have to be good. 

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. 

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. 

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - 

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things." 

- Mary Oliver