Ms. Cardinal

 Mama Cardinal / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping! 

sold!

I'M UP BY 5, usually, and I sit here at the kitchen table, next to an east-facing window, and I write, and wait for the sky to lighten. There have been mornings, many of them this year, in which it seemed that, for sure, the sun would not come up. The night would stretch out farther and farther, and I would look at the clock and the sky again and again and wonder if today would be the day. And then, of course, the sky would lighten, and the world would be set right again. 

I like the time change, the earlier dawns, and even the earlier dusks. Right after Peter died, the days could not end early enough for me, and even now, there are many days in which I welcome the darkness, and I close the curtains and feel safe and shut in, and glad that the day is over. 

Here in Wachapreague, sunset starts to come later on Dec. 7. It is by seconds at first, two seconds, then five, then 12, incremental, unnoticeable, largely unnoticed. Sunrise, however, continues to come later - by large parts of minutes - until Jan. 7. 

So I will look out the window, those early January days, and surely, on one or two of them, I will wonder - is it today? 

My seat at the table. Koko is underneath, and Doc on the bed in the front. 

***

Coda

"One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself." 

- Leonardo DaVinci

Cardinal

Cardinal / Oil on black canvas / 8x10 / $120 including shipping

 

DUSK COMES EARLY these days, a thin blue that sinks into orange near the horizon. 

Dawn comes later and later, the lightest purple today, with wisps of brighter clouds just above the treetops. 

The afternoons stretch into a joy of yellow sunlight, the rays low in the sky and warm. It is the perfect time to live here, along the Atlantic Ocean. The summer visitors are gone, and we who live here have the golden marsh, the golden sun, the golden light of October all to ourselves. 

My flowers are still blooming, some - gardenias among them - for the third time this year. There is no traffic; the dogs and Liesl and I walk in the middle of the streets. Cats rest, undisturbed, on sunny front stoops. Windows are open, and I hear someone mowing and smell the sweet scent of grass, for probably one of the last times of the summer. 

Surely, winter will come, with its gray sky and its bleak thoughts. But for now, the days are bright and warm and short enough to be treasured. 

***

A Last Thought

"Autumn... the year's last, loveliest smile." 

- William Cullen Bryant

Cardinal Looking Around

Cardinal Looking Around / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 includes shipping

THESE HOT, HUMID DAYS broil over, one into the other, thick and rich with southern summertime and scorching similarity. 

I look at my calendar a few times daily to help me sort it out. I ask Alexa, too, and hang my internal calendar on a couple events that are solidly scheduled every week - Wednesday is trash day and Thursday, I talk to my counselor. Both are things I never want to miss. 

Nearly every day, get up early, make coffee, write in my journal and then walk with Liesl and the dogs, and sometimes with Liesl's friend Lexie. Nearly every day, I paint. Nearly every day, I make three meals, cooking something good for dinner. Nearly every moment of every single day, I miss Peter, and think how much different this covid summer would be if he were here. 

***

Virtual Online Show and Sale

THE CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA FESTIVAL of the Arts is one of the big, important, national shows that usually accepts me every year. I was accepted again this year, but the on-the-ground show was canceled. 

So they are making a virtual show, and it sounds like lots of fun! More than 150 artists, from 32 states, are participating. Many - like me! - will be offering discounts on art and shipping (free shipping for me, plus discounts on many paintings during the festival, July 9-12). 

I'm one of the artists doing live demos - I'll be conducting my regular painting workshop in my live festival time, Saturday, July 11, at 1 p.m. Eastern. Other artists are doing demos and workshops throughout the festival. 

There's much more! Please check the website - https://arts-festival.com/  - or any of the festival's social media feeds - Facebook/CentralPAFestivaloftheArts; Instagram: @cpartsfestival; Twitter: @CPArtsFestival - for more information. 

***

For Today

"It is a thousand times better to have common sense without education 

than to have education without common sense." 

- Robert Green Ingersoll

Cardinal with Red Flowers

Cardinal with Red Flowers /  oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68

sold!

GUY WILKINS WAS a painter who lived in Wachapreague, and died a bit before we moved here. When I landed in town that very first time, dawdling on my way back to Connecticut from painting in North Carolina, the owner of the Wachapreague Inn looked at me, covered in paint, and told me I had to meet Guy Wilkins. 

Turned out, he was in the hospital, and I never did get to meet him. But I've seen his paintings in people's homes, and on line (http://www.guywilkinsartist.com/) and have heard about him from many people. I wish I'd known him. I think we would have been friends. 

The other day, painting in a peony field in Exeter, I heard one of the other painters say she had studied with Guy Wilkins. "He would tell me to stop right there," she said. "He'd say, 'It looks enough like a tree. Leave it alone.'"

I have much the same philosophy. If I don't insist on painting every last detail, I not only keep myself from getting bored and frustrated, but I also allow you, the viewer, to add your own ideas to the painting. Add your own details. Use your own imagination. I think this makes for a much more interesting painting for both of us! 

***
Dogfish

ON A WALK with three of my four dogs, Liesl (above, left) my regular dog-walking companion, and Lexie, (above, left) a special guest dog-walker, and I (below) saw this sign outside the crab-picking shack. It amused me - and the dogs thought it was pretty great, too. 

***
For Today

"A country where flowers are priced so as to make them a luxury
 has yet to learn the first principles of civilization."

- Chinese proverb

Mama Cardinal with Dogwood

Mama Cardinal with Dogwood / oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68

sold! 

IN MY LIFE AFTER PETER, in my art, and in my heart, I find I'm drawn to light. To lightness. I want to feel that I am treading lightly on the earth, am free of heaviness, of obligation, of burden, in my body, in my art, in my home. 

I want to be light, paint light, stretch for the arcs and the arches, paint the reaching and the striving, the colors, the sunshine, the open spaces, the promises and the hopes. I want to paint this, and I want to be this, as if I could blow away, as if all that is holding me here or anywhere is love and desire - not obligation, necessity, possession. 

Isn't this how we all want to live? At least deep down? 

With Peter, I did. Yes, I made the promise, way back, to stay forever - but every day, I chose to say "Yes" again - and isn't that what made the promise so valuable? Not that I made it in the first place, or abided by it, or took it for granted, but that every day, I chose him over everyone, everything, everywhere. 

And now, he is gone. And I make a promise to myself. I choose this life, this light, this love. 

***

For Today

A note to my agnostic and atheist readers: Long before I came to believe in a power greater than myself, I had this prayer up on my wall. I thought about leaving out the God references, in hopes of not putting you off, but left them, hoping that you will just get by them, to find the beautiful, resonant center of this prayer.

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. 

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

Grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console;

Toe be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And in dying that we are born to eternal life. 

Cardinal on Corn

Cardinal on Corn / Oil on black canvas / 8x24 unframed /$195 including shipping

TODAY  - APRIL 16 - WOULD BE OUR ANNIVERSARY. We were married on this day in 1988, in the house where I grew up, on Ocean Avenue in New London, CT. 

At the time, I thought it was the happiest day of my life - and at the time, it was. But compared to the days and weeks and months and years that followed, it was a whisper. A promise. A threshold to a different kind of happiness, one that could never happen on the first day.

I think that what defined our marriage  - and what brought us both the deepest days of happiness - was a sort of steadiness that came from love, trust, respect, shared ideas of right and wrong. A love of art. Of dogs. Of music. A love of the natural world. Of good food. And of course, a deep and abiding love of each other.

We made a home for each other, a place to grow our hearts and our ideas, to shelter our ventures and obsessions, launch our dreams and heal our wounds. In our marriage, I had more happy days than I could ever count, and of a quality and depth that on that day in 1988, I could not begin to imagine.

So what do I do today to honor all of this? I don't know - other than to write this missive, and send it out to the world, and remember how young we were, and how we never could have known how lucky we would be. 

***

Gratitude

Of course, today, I am grateful for the many years of marriage I had with Peter. 

He is gone. My best friend in the world is gone. But I was as lucky as a human can be 

to have shared so many years with him. 

What are you grateful for today? 

***

For Today

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever." 

- Alfred Tennyson

Cardinal with Swirly Sky

Cardinal with Swirly Sky / oil on black canvas / 57x unframed / $68 including shipping

sold!

I WAS FEELING OVERWHELMED the other day by the magnitude of the task of clearing out this house, the studio, the garage and the shed, and my friend and former baby-sitter Ann Stewart offered up a solution that intrigued me. 

Spend five hours a week, all on one day, doing whatever it is that needs to be done, she suggested. That's 20 hours in a month, which is enough to finish nearly anything - but it breaks even the most unmanageable task into do-able segments. 

The simplicity of the idea attracted me instantly, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like genius. Five hours is not a whole day. It leaves enough time so that even if you do the five hours, you still have a day. And yet, it's enough time to really dig in, to really make headway - but long enough to allow a break or two. 

On Saturday, I spent five hours working in the Caribbean House, a brightly painted shed in our backyard. I had thought it would take the rest of my life to clear it out - but in five hours, I made Big, Visible Progress. Yay! 

So I share this idea with you, in hopes that it will help you tackle some task that might seem insurmountable. Good luck! Or, as Dan Rather might say... Courage. 

***

Gratitude

TODAY, I AM GRATEFUL that I have several life-long friends. Ann is one of them, and I have a few more. I've known these folks pretty much all their lives, and they've known me pretty much all of mine. There's great comfort in that, and I am indeed grateful. 

What are you grateful for today? 

***

For Today

"It is impossible to explain creativity. It's like asking a bird, 'How do you fly?'"

- Eric Jerome Dickey

Mama Cardinal

Mama Cardinal / oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping

Sold

MANY OF THE SHOWS I'd counted on for income this summer have been canceled. 

Unlike many of my artist friends, I already had a little bit of an alternative plan, just trying to get myself back on my feet after Peter's death. With the uncertainties of this new chapter of my life, with the sudden responsibility of single-person dog-care, I'd only applied to a few shows, and have been  building my commission base, painting to keep my galleries happy and building my skill and reach through projects large and small. 

Still, it's a blow that Art and Music on the Farm and Arts in the Park in Richmond, two of the major shows of my summer, have been canceled. 

In an effort to make up income, I'll be cooking up some online art festivals/sales, hosting some online workshops, and, when the virus has come and gone, doing some real-life workshops, farmers markets and the like. 

My next online sale will be my spring flower show, which will take place in a few weeks. My first online workshop - free! - will take place on Saturday at 1 pm on Facebook. I'll do a FB live presentation, and I hope you'll join me. We will make a nice landscape painting - so set up with your computer and your paints and brushes or knives or pastels or whatever you use, and paint with me! 

If you've been thinking that you'd like to own a Carrie Jacobson original - or add to your collection! - I have some wonderful new ones, large and small, on my website, jacobson-arts.com (http://jacobson-arts.com). And if you've been wanting a commission, now is an ideal time to talk to me about one. 

And of course, the Bird A Day project has taken wing once more! 

***

Thought for the Day

"Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them 

they somehow fly out past you. 

And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure." 

- Stephen King

Fancy Cardinal

Fancy Cardinal / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / unframed / $68, including shipping

                                                                     
  Sold

I PAINTED THIS fancy cardinal a few weeks ago, on one of the few warm and sunny days we had this winter in Wachapreague. Friends gathered on the back porch of Seaside Art and Antiques, the store my friend Pat Hart owns in Wachapreague, and painted together, and talked and laughed and shared the afternoon.

At one point, I knew the name of the fancy cardinal, but I seem to have forgotten it. The name that came up when I googled it was pyrrhuloxia, but my brain says that's not it. Do any of you know? 

*** 

For Today

I AM ON my way to Arizona, and enjoying watching the landscape and the towns and all the funny signs. Here's one I saw near Birmingham, Alabama. The small print reads, "We repair what your husband fixed." 

Cardinal on a Snowy Branch

Cardinal on Snowy Branch / Oil on black canvas, unframed, $68

sold

Sometimes, I miss the winter days, the way the sharp cold light drains the color from the sky - or adds it, either way, shifting it, reminding me of growing up, winters in Connecticut, the sky so close, a part of the day in ways it wouldn't be again for years, until I started painting. Until I started looking.

The cardinals are as jewel-like in Virginia's gray mornings, though there is something to be said for the way they strut their color in a New England winter morning, and shake the new snow from a thin branch, announcing their flashy beauty.

***

For Today

Wild Geese
Mary Oliver

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.

Cardi B

Cardi B / Oil on blue canvas / 5x7 unframed $70, including shipping

I RARELY PAINT on any color other than black, but I am using the Bird A Day project as a platform for experimentation, and that includes trying paintings on different backgrounds. So this little guy is on blue. What do you think?

The project also involves my efforts with technology - and I am, as usual, feeling my way through. So if you click the button here and it doesn't bring you to PayPal, please get in touch - email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com, or call or text at 860-442-0246. 

The button won't work if the painting has been sold. I will do my best to let you know when the painting has sold, but sometimes, I'm in the car or off the grid, and there will be a delay. And if you don't get this bird, there will be another on Monday. 

Thank you for participating in the Bird A Day project! 

***

I AM DOING as well as can be expected, given the loss of my husband in October, 86 days ago. My friends, my family, my collectors, even friends of friends have been remarkable, reaching out with kindness, condolences, prayers, generosity. Thank you, all of you, thank you so much. 

The box above is about the size of a shoebox, and as you can see, is filled to the brim with cards. Though is was heart-warming and life-affirming to open all of these cards, it also was emotionally difficult. I opened them as I was able, and on Jan. 1, finished. I found the bag of mail I thought I had recycled without opening. So, if you sent me a card, I received it, and I thank you for it. You are more giving, more wonderful, more numerous than I ever could have imagined. 

***

For Today

I Am Offering This Poem

By Jimmy Santiago Baca

I am offering this poem to you

since I have nothing else to give.

Keep it like a warm coat

when winter comes to cover you,

or like a pair of thick socks

the cold cannot bite through,

                         I love you,

I have nothing else to give you,

so it is a pot full of yellow corn

to warm your belly in winter,

it is a scarf for your head, to wear

over your hair, to tie up around your face,

                         I love you,

Keep it, treasure this as you would

if you were lost, needing direction,

in the wilderness life becomes when mature;

and in the corner of your drawer,

tucked away like a cabin or hogan

in dense trees, come knocking,

and I will answer, give you directions,

and let you warm yourself by this fire,

rest by this fire, and make you feel safe

                         I love you,

It’s all I have to give,

and all anyone needs to live,

and to go on living inside,

when the world outside

no longer cares if you live or die;

remember,

                         I love you.

Mama Cardinal - and Thoughts on Painting with a Palette Knife

Mama Cardinal

Oil on canvas, 6x6

Available in June at the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center, Mystic, CT

Painting with a palette knife, I am realizing, involves an entirely different mindset and approach than painting with a brush. This has become more clear to me recently, as I've done workshops with a number of painters who use brushes and want to learn the knife. 

With a palette knife, or at least the way I paint, the art happens one distinct stroke at a time. When I am at my best, and my painting is at its best, I make a mark and I leave it alone. I don't go over it, I don't change it, I don't touch it, once I put it on the canvas.

This is absolutely antithetical to the way most folks paint. When you're using a brush, you can go over and over the paint. You can sort of scrub the paint, softening the edges, blurring and blending and changing by degrees. It is very, very hard for a person who paints with a brush to stop going over the paint, again and again and again. 

For me, most of the work is done before I touch the knife to the canvas. I mix the paint on my palette, I pick up the colors I want, I make the stroke and then I leave it. Wipe off my palette knife and go on to the next stroke. In many paintings, sunflowers most of all,  I find, I mix the paint stroke by stroke - in other words, each petal, each part of each petal, is a different combination of colors, a different bit of paint. The background, I mix in larger batches, but those flowers are bit by bit by bit. 

And believe me, it's really, really hard NOT to go over the strokes! But every time you do, it muddies the painting and dulls the paint. 

***

Egret

Oil on canvas, 6x12

Available in June at the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center, Mystic, CT

ANOTHER THING I've been thinking, while I've been making these small paintings for the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center show, that runs in June at the Center in Mystic, CT, is how great it would be to do shows with only - or mostly - teeny paintings. 

There was a guy across the aisle from me in Chattanooga who had mostly tiny paintings, all of strange, cartoon-like characters. He sold these for what I thought was too much money - $145 for a 6-inch-square painting, and up from there. Of course, I haven't done the math, but perhaps that's what you have to charge to make a living selling tiny paintings. 

And clearly, before I fantasize too much about showing up for a show in a Prius or a Mini Cooper, I should sit down and do some multiplication. I can say that it would be such FUN to have a tent with mostly all teeny stuff. And it would be miles easier than lugging 48x60-inch paintings - though I DO love to paint them...

Chubby Cheeks

Oil on canvas, 6x6

Available in June at the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center, Mystic, CT

 ***

Dog of the Day

Huge Summer Garden & Tiny Animals!

Summer Garden 

Oil on canvas, 48x60

sold

Sometimes, I just have to laugh at myself, and yesterday was one of those times. 

I'd spent the previous three days painting this gigantic sunflower painting - four feet by five feet. Tons of color. Tubes and tubes and tubes of paint. Thousands and thousands and thousands of strokes. It's so big and so heavy, I had to ask Peter to help me lift it so I could raise the easel. 

I worked on it and worked on it and worked on it, and then, finally, it was done. Yay! 

I put it in the van to dry and went back to the studio. 

My next painting? Five inches square. 

Made me laugh. 

Cardinal

Oil on canvas, 5x5

***

Cottontail

Oil on canvas, 4x5

THE IMPETUS FOR these small pieces is twofold. First, I want to see if it's worth my while to create a line of smaller, cheaper paintings. If it takes me three hours to make a 10x10, which I sell for $100, but it takes me two hours to make a 5x5, which I sell for $45, well, then it's not worth it. But if I can make the smaller paintings more quickly, and if they sell fast, then maybe it IS worth it. So I am experimenting. 

But before these paintings make it into my booth at this summer's outdoor art shows, they're headed for the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center in Mystic, CT. My friend and former boss, Elissa Bass, is working for the center, which is run by another friend, and former classmate, Maggie Jones. Elissa invited me to exhibit at the center for the month of June. So that's the first home for these small pieces. 

***

THIS YEAR'S PAWS FOR CHARITY book is out, and it is just beautiful! 

This is a project I've had the honor of participating in for a few years now. Sara Harley chooses photographs and paintings from artists who apply. She puts together a beautiful book, and donates the proceeds to a shelter in Nova Scotia, where she lives. This year's recipient is SHAID, Shelter for Animals In Distress. 

You can see a preview of the book by clicking here. 

And if you want to buy a book or two, here's a discount! Put in this code - P4C2014 - when you are checking out, and you'll get 25 percent off. The discount is not good forever, so you should order now! 

***

Dog of the Day

I met him at the Wachapreague Post Office yesterday, and he was happy and shiny and 

very friendly. I think his name is Zorro, but I could be wrong.