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

The Long View - and a Scary Show

The Long View
Oil on canvas, 24x48
sold

I got back from my Midwest trip on Monday, tired and worn out, but very happy. It was a grand trip, in terms of sales, and meeting nice people who liked and supported my art. There's really nothing quite as wonderful as that!

The trip was not without its trials and adventures, though. The weather was a constant worry and stressor. It was very, very hot the whole time. Most show days were in the upper 80s or 90s, and humid, to boot.

It rained during Summerfair in Cincinnati, and during the Omaha Summer Arts Festival, too. But they were nothing, compared to what happened in Columbus.  My booth was on a bridge across a river, maybe a quarter-mile wide. It was a prime spot for foot traffic.

The breeze blew nicely at the start of the the fair, cooling the broiling day just a little. But as Friday wore on, the breeze grew into a wind, a stronger and stronger wind that had my paintings flapping frighteningly from the walls. The wind turned into downpours, and I closed the walls of the tent. When the rain cleared, the wind went down some, though it did continue to blow and bluster for the rest of the day ... and night. (The show started at 11 and ran through to 10:30).

The second day, there was less wind and far more rain. Downpours happened on and off, building and building until at about 8 p.m., the sky opened with a vicious thunder and lightning storm. All of us on the bridge were sitting in our zipped-up tents, and while I don't know about the rest of them, I can tell you I was scared. A river was running through the back of my tent. Wind was smacking the sides. Rain was pounding on the roof, while lightning split the sky and thunder crashed all around.

But I lived - and had a good show, too. And this coming weekend, our daughter Erika is getting married!

***

And here are the happy buyers of "The Long View."

Check out the Happy Buyers page on the Jacobson Arts website! 

***

Dog of the Day

A trio of (need I say?) well-behaved shelties, at the show in Omaha. The one with the fancy necklace had a sort of prancing walk that was delightful. His humans said he's always walked that way.

***

A Final Thought

"You come to nature with all your theories, and she knocks them all flat." 

- Pierre Auguste Renoir