The Way In

The Way In / Oil on black canvas / 16x20 / $500 including shipping

Please email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com if you'd like to buy this painting

TO MY AMAZEMENT, I have started dating. It was a brief experience, and it ended not well but not horribly, and while the whole thing utterly shocked me, it was an important if painful step, and I feel blessed and grateful to have taken it. 

The person with whom I was involved could not have been more different from Peter, and perhaps that made the whole thing easier - though none of it was easy. I wept for taking my heart away from for grieving for Peter. I trembled at what felt, at first, like a betrayal of him. I scolded myself for taking this respite from grief. But I went ahead.  

It was hard to take that big step into living again, and to be reminded, with each inch of road I traveled, that I was edging away from Peter, from grief, from my old life, even, in a way, from my old self. Taking a first, brief journey on what might or might not be a long new road. 

I had thought I'd be alone forever, that love would live only as a memory, and that that would be enough. And who knows? Maybe this small and, in the end, unhappy romance was the only one that will come my way between now and whenever I am too old. But maybe it's not. 

And even with the pain of failure and breakup - a pain I haven't felt or considered for 40 years - I hope it's not the only one. But if it is, I still believe it was important to do this, to wager my heart on the hand of love. 

***

Coda

Wild Geese

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 mind.

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

Sunset Through the Pines

 Sunset Through the Pines / Oil on black canvas / 18x24 / $700, including shipping

sold

BACK IN THE FALL, Doc and I went to dog school. Really, not only went, but more importantly, graduated from dog school (and below is the photo that proves it!). 

Dog school was put on by Eastern Shore Dog, which is basically Beth Ann Sabo and Anna Malik, and if you're here on the Shore, you can find Eastern Shore Dog on Facebook, or at its website here. 

Doc and I learned a lot in dog school, and it helped my scared and snappish fellow begin to learn to co-exist with other dogs and people. He also learned to walk nicely (most of the time) on a leash, to come when I call him (most of the time), to sit and stay, and - most recently (post graduate work!) to lie down. 

All of that is great, but dog school took place on Mondays at 5:30 p.m., at the Barrier Islands Center, about 30 minutes from here. It was October and November, the days were short and cold, and each week, I had to fight my entropy, to get Doc and myself up and out. One of the things that motivated me was a good chance to see the sunset. 

That's where this painting came from, a beautiful sunset through the trees, on the way to dog school.

***

The Real Dr. Cooper

YES, FOR WHATEVER nutty reason I had at the time, I named Doc after my dad. I want to report today that Dad is back home - yay! - and sounded happy and hopeful when I talked with him this weekend. 

Turns out his swallowing problem was a side effect of AFIB medication he was on. I share this in case you or a loved one ever encounters the same issue. We are all grateful and relieved that Dad made it through this crisis, and is doing so very well. Thank you for your prayers and good wishes. 

***

Coda

Of the Dark Doves

For Claudio Guillen

In the branches of the laurel tree

I saw two dark doves

One was the sun

and one the moon

Little neighbors I said

where is my grave --

In my tail said the sun

On my throat said the moon

And I who was walking

with the land around my waist

saw two snow eagles

and a naked girl

One was the other

and the girl was none

Little eagles I said

where is my grave --

In my tail said the sun

On my throat said the moon

In the branches of the laurel tree

I saw two naked doves

One was the other

and both were none

- Frederico Garcia Lorca

Translated by Sarah Arvio

Storm

 Nor'easter / Oil on black canvas / 11x14 / $250 including shipping

sold! 

THE STORM WOKE ME at 3, a few mornings ago. It was the wind, wailing, yelling, slamming against the windows and the walls and the trunks of the trees. It was the rain, smashing against the metal roof and the windowpanes. And it was the strength and power of the storm itself, the first nor-easter of the season, the line storm, marking the passage from autumn to winter. 

I woke, the dogs woke, and later in the day, I found that many of my friends had also woken, all around 3, nudged into consciousness by the wrath and muscle of the wind and the rain. 

Sleep took me back, and on the way, I vowed to paint the feeling of the storm. My note says that I must paint it BIG (I wrote the word in caps) and this one is not BIG, but it is the storm - and perhaps a study for the BIG one. 

I hope you like it. 

***

Coda

"Every time we say, 'Let there be!' in any form, something happens." 

-Stella Terrell Mann

Mountain Sunset

Mountain Sunset / oil on canvas / 8x24 / $185 including shipping

sold! 

AGAIN, I FIND MYSELF TIRED, at this not-so-late end to the day. I did get up early, a little after 4:30. I transplanted some tomato plants and watered the gardens, and then Liesl and the dogs and I walked for an hour. 

I did a WalMart pick-up, attended a Zoom meeting, painted a little, talked to my counselor, then painted again until late in the afternoon. I loaded the van with paintings to bring to one of my patrons tomorrow. Now I am watering the garden again and wondering why I am so tired. But when I list it all out like this, it looks like enough to make anyone tired. 

Still, I recognize that underneath everything, I am indeed tired. Losing Peter has taken from me a few degrees of - what? - youth? hope? optimism? energy? all of the above?

My days used to begin with the thought of the joy of a day of painting and cooking and doing stuff around the house. Now, my first thought is that he is gone, and I am here alone. It is not all dark. Not all sad and dismal. But I wonder sometimes if I will ever be truly happy again. If I will ever feel the joy I used to feel. 

So I will take it easy now, put off the rest of the day's tasks until tomorrow, have a good dinner and revive my energy. It is all part of the process, I know. I just want the process to be easier.

***

 For Today

"In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks." 

- John Muir

Pennsylvania Farm

Pennsylvania Farm

Oil on canvas, 18x18

sold

I was driving back from the show in State College, PA, this summer, and thinking about my fall painting trip, when I saw a beautiful farm like this one. In a flash, my plans expanded from painting New England autumn to painting New England (and more) autumn and New England (and more) farms.

That way, if a big storm rips the leaves from the trees early, or if autumn comes in September or November, I still will have plenty of subject matter. Farms are farms, beautiful in any kind of weather.

But what is this trip, you say? The Farms and Foliage Painting Trip is a sponsored plein-air journey that I'll be taking - ideally with you! - in October.

Here's how it works. You buy a painting in advance (they start at $125) - and you get to come along on the trip with me. I send you regular blog postings of my journey, with photos of the places I go, the people I meet and of course, a dog of the day. When I start painting - all on site, by the side of the road, painting what I find - I will include a photo of the painting, and the painting in the landscape. And I might send you some other goodies from the road, too!

When I get back, I'll put my paintings up on a web page, and you'll choose your paintings in the order in which you signed up.

For more about the project, and to sign up, visit the Farms and Foliage Trip page on the Jacobson Arts website. You can get there by clicking here!

***

Dog of the Day

Well, Dog Person of the Day, really... That's my friend Carol Baney, on the red couch in our living room, covered with Koko, Doc and Lulu. Anyone who visits has to put up with our canine family, and I can tell you, it's a lot. But when they're not barking at Carol, they're delighted to have another lap to climb onto! 

***

A Final Thought

"Artistic talent is a gift from God and whoever discovers it in himself has a certain obligation: to know that he cannot waste this talent, but must develop it." 

- Pope John Paul II

Manny, Moe and Jeff

Manny, Moe and Jeff

Oil on canvas, 36x60

Please click here to email me for price and availability

This painting started its life looking a little different. The sky was pretty much the same, and the road to the left was pretty much the same, and the mountains were sort of the same, but the cows were smaller, the trees were smaller, the water was smaller, and the colors - still a little out of my comfort zone - were a little more quiet. 

I wanted to like it, but just couldn't, even though people liked it, and I was going to paint over it. Instead, I really looked. I searched for what was bothering me, for why I wasn't in love with this cowscape. It took a while, but it came to me, and I was able to make the changes that are making it work. 

This is a process that's happened a few times to me now. It is still a new process, of improving rather than tossing out. And it's a process I hope I can bring to other parts of my life, including my own sense of self. 

***

Shows! 

I'm sending a big thank you to everyone who came to the shows this summer, took the time to look at my paintings and talk with me! And a special thanks to all of you who bought paintings! Each sale is a miracle, and I appreciate each one very much. 

I'll be on the road for a few weeks, starting tomorrow. Here's my schedule: 

Stamford, CT, July 29-30, Harbor Point, Booth 20

Uptown Art Festival, Minneapolis, MN, Aug. 4-6, Booth 3407 on the mall

Mystic Outdoor Art Festival, Mystic, CT, Aug. 12-13, corner of Willow and East Main

and Centerfest, Durham, NC,   Sept. 16-17

Hope to see you there! 

***

Dog of the Day

Pals! Saw these guys at the show in State College, PA. 

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

***

A Final Thought

“Some people are born to make great art and others are born to appreciate it. … 

It is a kind of talent in itself, to be an audience, whether you are the spectator in the gallery or you are listening to the voice of the world's greatest soprano. 

Not everyone can be the artist. 

There have to be those who witness the art, 

who love and appreciate what they have been privileged to see.” 

- Ann Patchett

.

Alpaca Farm

Alpaca Farm

Oil on black canvas, 20x20

This morning, this wet and rainy and cold and dreary morning, Doc picked up a fallen baby bird from the wet grass and brought it to its death, or nearly to its death, which is even worse. I got it away from him and put it on a paper towel outside of the yard. I don't know if it was dead yet, but there was no way to save it. I could not bring myself to deliver the final blow. Couldn't.

The poor thing was tiny, teeny, and wet to the skin, and I can't stop crying about how scary and cold and painful its death must have been. I got so mad at Doc that I made him and his sister go into their crate, and I am mad at myself because I know it is just his nature, and I shouldn't be angry. Doc couldn't have grabbed the little bird from its nest, so it must have fallen or been pushed, but no matter what happened, it's just broken my heart on this gray, cold morning. 

I said a little prayer for the teeny bird, and apologized for Doc's part in its death, and for mine. I just hope the tiny thing passed quickly into peace, out of pain, into a soft, warm place far away from here. 

When I was young, I wanted to be a veterinarian. I failed calculus, and that ended my hopes. Now, I am thankful, so thankful, that I didn't make it. There's little in life that makes me more sad than seeing an animal in pain. 

***

There is no Dog of the Day today. I just can't. 

***

A Final Thought

"Art is to console those who are broken by life." 

- Vincent Van Gogh

Waterfall in the Woods

Waterfall in the Woods

Oil on canvas, 12x12, bartered! 

I've truly enjoyed the waterfall paintings I've done recently, though all have come from photographs. We live in one of the flattest places in the country! Out here in the west, I'm seeing waterfalls, but so far, have not been able to set up safely to paint them. But I'm taking pictures, and continuing to look for them. I've painted a few, but apparently have only posted one - Waterfall with Birches. I will be sure to post the others soon. 

Part of the fun of painting waterfalls, at least for me, is that I paint everything ELSE first, and then paint the water rushing through the rocks. So it sort of saves the best for last - but it also puts everything on the line. Mess up the water and you mess up the painting. So it's an all-or-nothing sort of thing. 

I've encountered a few other, similar gambles. One is the hair over a dog's eyes. I paint the whole dog first, eyes and everything, then paint the raggedy, shaggy hair over those beautiful eyes. Click here to see Colby, here to see Woodreau, and here to see Archie. There's not a lot of hair over those eyes, but still, it's alarming. 

A tree in the front of a painting has some of the same risk! 

***

One from the Road

Well, OK, two from the road. This Walmart in Gillette, Wyoming, has got to be the best-decorated Walmart anywhere! And below, just a view of Wyoming - big sky, big land and everywhere, barbed-wire fences. 

***

Dog of the Day

Saw this dog in Minneapolis this summer. She seemed to love her little outfit! She's got the same crazy markings as Lulu and Doc. Here's a photo of them, that Peter took. Please click on it to see it larger, because Lulu (on the left) looks so hilariously deranged! 

***

A Final Thought

"There are always flowers for those who want to see them." 

- Henri Matisse, courtesy of Lynn Hoins

Golden Fields

Golden Fields

Oil on black canvas, 36x60

Please click here to email me for price and availability

I work hard to take good photographs of my paintings, and for my birthday, Peter gave me a good camera, a real camera (not just my phone). I'm still learning my way around it, and can already see that it's going to help. 

The one thing I can say is that, in most instances, if there has to be a gap between the quality of the paintings and the quality of the photographs, I'd rather have the paintings look better in real life than vice versa! 

***

I'M HEADING TO New England on Wednesday, to take part in the Paradise City Arts Festival in Northampton, MA. The show runs from Saturday through Monday at the Three County Fairgrounds, 54 Old Ferry Road, Northampton. I'll be in Booth 909, in the Arena Building. It's a really fun show, filled with high-end art and craft, beautiful stuff. There is an entry fee, but there's a coupon for a discount on the website. And one of my paintings is featured on the webpage about the show!

***

Yes! Cowart Street! I should have gotten someone to take a photo of me with a cowscape beneath this sign. Next time I'm in Chattanooga, for sure! 

***

Dog of the Day

This is Lisle's cat, looking affronted that I dared to drive down her street 

here in Wachapreague. She marched along in front of the car 

for quite some time, until she finally headed to a lawn, 

where she could stare at me accusingly. 

***

A Final Thought

"Art and love are the same thing: 

It's the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you." 

- Chuck Klosterman

I Shall Be Released

I Shall Be Released

Oil on black canvas with gold, copper and aluminum leaf, 30x30

Please click here to email me for price, shipping and availability

When I was in my 20s, I was sure that people in their 60s were all but dead, spiritually, emotionally and of course, physically. I was pretty sure that there was no imagination in their lives, that most of the doors had closed - and they didn't really mind. 

I turned 60 on Monday, and I am glad to say that I couldn't have been more wrong, at least about myself and, I'd dare to say, my friends, my husband and my post-60 family members. 

I've never felt more alive! I've never had more creative ideas, a richer imagination, more daring. I've never felt happier; I've never felt more fear; I've never had the determination I have now. 

In many ways, I feel like this painting. I feel like all life is leading me somewhere, and the path is in color. The goal is bright and shiny and maybe a little scary - but it is rich with color and movement, imagination and promise. 

You all, who read my blog and buy my paintings, sponsor my projects and support me in countless ways, you're all along with me on this journey, and you're all making it possible. I am so very grateful. Thank you. 

***

An amazing coincidence

 

MOTHER'S DAY WEEKEND, I participated in a show in Crozet, VA, about five hours west of here. I did the show last year, and it was pretty good, so I thought I'd try again. I was elated when the show used my art on their postcard! I was also thrilled to find they'd used it on their poster and program. 

The show is in a beautiful part of Virginia, the edge of the Shenandoah Valley. It is lush and clean and full of birds and bullfrogs and gorgeous scenery - but not so many buyers. I had an OK show, selling two paintings, but it was difficult to do and, I admit, disappointing. 

One amazing happened, though! I went up to a man in my booth and asked him if he'd like to buy a painting. He said he loved them but no, he was from Arizona. Where? I asked.

"Tucson," he said. 

"Oh, yeah? My dad and stepmother live in Tubac."

"Oh, really? My wife has art in a gallery in Tubac."

"Which one?" I asked, somehow knowing I already knew the answer.

"Sweet Poppy," he said. 

And sure enough, that's where I have my paintings in Tubac. Sweet Poppy. Isn't that amazing? Her name is Sandra Montgomery, and her website is www.oldwindowart.com. And that's what she does, paints on old windows. Very cool! 

Above, Sandra Montgomery and me. Below, my van, where I camped at the Crozet Art and Craft Festival. Most people camped in a concrete-covered area just past this field, but I loved the quiet, and the greenery and the solitary camping. 

***

Dog of the Day

Met this beauty in Tubac. She makes me think of Kaja,

 our long-gone part chow, part German shepherd. 

***

A Final Thought 

"It is good to love many tings, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done." 

- Vincent Van Gogh

Tennessee Mountain Home

Tennessee Mountain Home

Oil on black canvas, 36x36

Please click here to email me for price and availability

In real life, you can see more clearly several receding banks of mountains in the background of this painting. I've tried six or seven photographs and so far, none has captured the boundaries/nonboundaries between them. 

It's sort of a problem with the kind of art I've been making. I've been working to abstract the landscape a little, to break it a bit more into pieces, and meld one level into the next. I do believe that we are all connected, and this way of painting is a way of telling that story - at least in my hopeful mind, it is! 

This painting is a departure for me on other levels, too. What is that person doing there? Going home? Looking back? Simply walking the dog? I have my own story, and would be interested to hear if the painting conjures stories in any of your hearts.

***

FOR THE PAST couple months, I've been posting my paintings large on this blog. Do you like them large? Did you prefer them smaller? 

***

Dog of the Day

My friend Galen got a new puppy! Xena's parents were muttleys. Buster, above, is OK with the puppy, though you can tell who owns the dog quilt...

***

A Final Thought

"The position of the artist is humble. He is essentially a channel."

- Piet Mondrian

Homesick Blues

 Homesick Blues

Oil on black canvas, 15x60

Please click here to email me on price and shipping/delivery

When I drove through Tennessee on my way home from Arizona, I was struck by the beauty of the state. I was in eastern Tennessee when I saw this trio of buildings near the highway. Even though I was aching to be home, I doubled back and got off and found this farm, which I photographed from about 50 angles. 

In addition to the buildings and how they sit on the land and pick up the light, I really like the misty quality of this painting, the way the sky and mountains meld here and there. I also like the little bits of spring pink and green in the trees behind the buildings. The shape of the canvas is fun, too. Usually I paint longhorns on this shape and size, but I think it works for this landscape, too. 

***

Dog of the Day

Seems to be a springtime of puppies! Meet Henry, whom my friends Cynthia and Kevin found at a shelter in Tucson. He's part German shepherd, part airedale. Isn't he adorable? 

***

A Final Thought

"The object of art is not to reproduce reality, but to create a reality of the same intensity." 

- Alberto Giacometti

Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum

Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum

Oil on black canvas, 36x60

Please click here to email me for information on price and shipping/delivery

I said I was going to paint bigger and bolder, and so I'm pleased to show you this new one! It's hard to get a feel for it on the computer here, but it's five feet across and three feet deep, so you can see how big the images of the cows are.

You might not be able to see very clearly in this photo, but there's a little house and red barn in the saddle of the hill under the mountain in the far distance. That helps give a little perspective, I think. Also, the sky on this one is really wonderfully rich and thick and swirly!

***

For a few years now, a friend and I have exchanged photos of the sky nearly every day. It's a project I've grown to love. I really look forward to receiving her sky photos, and to taking a photo myself that says something. This was my photo from Jan. 1. I took it through the new window in my studio. It was about the 1,000th gray day in a row (well, that's what it felt like), and honestly, I hadn't taken pix for a few days. There's only so much you can do with unrelenting gray. The paperweight belonged to my mom, and reminds me of a crystal ball. 

***

Dog of the Day

I met this guy at the SoNoArt show this summer; he's the dog of a nice couple 

who collect my art. Can't remember his name, but he was a great guy! 

***

A Final Thought

"Have no fear of perfection. You'll never reach it."

- Salvador Dali

Small Fall - and the Art Stroll

Small Fall

Oil on black canvas, 6x6

sold

On the second Friday of very month, the town of Onancock (that's the Big City, when you live in Wachapreague) has an Art Walk. All the galleries in town are open late, artist studios are open late, and many shops are open late, too.

This month, Jack Richardson, a talented and well-known painter who owns the Jack Richardson Gallery, is featuring my art. Yay!

If you're in the area, I hope you will stop in and see the gallery, meet Jack and check out my new paintings in real life. The Walk runs from 5-8 p.m.

***

I happened to be behind a Peter Pan bus a while ago, 

and had to wonder - Just what is Mr. Pan doing? 

Love to hear your thoughts! 

***

Dog of the Day

It's Koko, waiting at the studio door. She's still not a great studio dog, but 

she's beginning to get the idea. She and Abby like it best 

when I have both doors open, and they can include the studio 

on their racing laps through the yard. 

***

A Final Thought

"An artist cannot fail. It is a success to be one."

- Charles Horton Cooley

Red Dirt Farm

 North Carolina Red Dirt Farm

Oil on black canvas, 20x60, $1200; shipping to be determined

I was one of 25 artists invited to the Piedmont Plein Air Paintout in High Point, NC, in September. It's in a beautiful part of the country, and I had time before the event to drive around and take it in. I'd hoped to paint on site before the event, but ditches and wind made that impossible, so I took lots of photos and have begun painting from them. 

In this piece, what pulled me most was the patchwork of red dirt, plowed for mowing, and crops ready and nearly ready to be harvested. I like the way the buildings sit on the land, too. And in my painting, I love the swirly sky.  

***

SINCE I RETURNED from Texas with a van full of paintings, I've collected them in a store on my Jacobson Arts website. (Please click here to reach it). 

If you're a reader of this blog and you buy a painting, I will refund you 10 percent after your purchase. Shipping will be extra, but if I'm going to be near your area, I'm happy to deliver a painting in person, for free! 

***

Saw this on the wall of a parking lot in Austin. Isn't it beautiful? 

***

Dog of the Day

Yes, it's Koko. I am smitten, and Peter is, too. Abby (the big dog, above) is thrilled that we brought her a playmate. Smokey likes her well enough, and Woody is his usual grouchy self. So Koko is fitting in perfectly, and is helping me remember Zoe and especially Jojo with more joy than sadness, and far more gratitude than loss. Thank you, Koko!

***

A Final Thought

"Life beats down and crushes the soul, and art reminds you that you have one." 

-Stella Adler

The Deep, Red Earth

The Deep, Red Earth

Oil on black canvas, 20x60

Please click here to contact me for price and availability

I left for Texas early, on Monday, so I could stop near Asheville, NC, to meet a dog. I don't know if she will be the right dog for me, but something about her face called to me, and so I will meet her.

It's early to be bringing another dog into my life. I am still crying for Jojo, and still missing her, and Zoe, too. Heck, I miss all the dogs who have passed from my life. But Jojo was the dog of my heart, and I am lost without her.

I don't know what it says about me that I need to be loved with the unmitigated and unembarrassed enthusiasm with which Jojo loved me. She adored me without boundary or hesitation. Her joy when I came home was huge, every time. She had no dignity. She would leap and bark and cry, lick me all over, race through the house, cavorting and bounding, jumping on the furniture, taken over with joy. And I was every bit as happy to see her. We started every day together with pure happiness to be in each other's company, and ended every day the same way.

I miss Jojo and I miss this sort of renewing, reassuring, simple relationship.

So I will meet this little dog today, and I'll see. We will both know if it's right.

It makes sense that she - unnamed and unknown - is the Dog of the Day. I'll let you all know what happens.

***

A Final Thought

"Art is the stored honey of the human soul." 

- Theodore Dreiser

Route 13 Barns, Large Version

Route 13 Barns (large version)

Oil on black canvas, 48x48

Please click here to email me for price and availability

I loved the small version of this painting so much that I made a larger version. It's a barn on Route 13 on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, where we live. I'm drawn to it again and again. Every time I see it, I photograph it, and I've painted it a number of times. 

In this one, the rows of planted whatever in this painting are even more  brightly colored, even more oddly three-dimensional than they were in the first one, or in any of the ones I've made.

I looked at this painting for a long, long time this weekend and realized that I don't really know how I painted it. Don't know how I made those rows look so 3-D. It's something about stroke, and color and rhythm - and something more, something I can't quite name. 

I vanished into the painting of this one, letting sadness go and healing come. There was a lot of work in this painting, a lot of time. A lot of letting in God or the nature or whatever you call the higher power that I believe brings the inspiration and the magic. 

And sometime soon, this painting will bring that magic and inspiration to someone's home. I'm looking forward to seeing where it ends up. 

***

One good thing about the days turning cold is that I get to wear my new hat.

My friend Elizabeth Buebendorf made it for me. Isn't it great? 

***

Some happy buyers, above and below, who visited my studio 

in Wachapreague recently, and had their choice of paintings.

 If you'd like to come by and see my new art, please drop me an email!

If I'm there, I'd love to see you. 

***

Dog of the Day

I'm a good dog. Aren't I?

***

A Final Thought

"Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. 

Art is knowing which ones to keep." 

- Scott Adams