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

Crowing - and Hatch, NM

Crowing /  Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping

sold!

CROWS ARE SMART. When we moved in, here in Wachapreague, there was some sort of antenna tower sitting on a square of concrete in the back yard. 

One morning while I was out in the studio painting, I heard a persistent sort of cracking noise, and looked up to see a crow sitting on top of the tower, tossing pecans down through the center, so they would hit the concrete and crack. Then the crow could open them relatively easily. 

An article in a science journal in 2014 found that your average crow is about as smart as a 7-year-old child. The scientists gave six wild crows a series of tasks involving water displacement. The crows had to figure out how to get bits of floating food, by dropping heavy objects into a tube filled with water. The heavy things would displace enough water to bring the floating food up high enough that the crows could reach it. 

Seven-year-old child? I am not sure that this 63-year-old so-called adult would have figured out that I could get the food by dropping something heavy into the water. Sheesh. But sometimes I think the car is smarter than I am. 

***

Hatch, NM / Oil on black canvas / 16x20 / $435 including shipping

sold

PLEASE REMEMBER my landscape-painting workshop, Saturday at 1 p.m., on Facebook. It's free, it will be easy and I think it will be fun! Set up with your computer, something to paint on and something to paint with. We will be painting a landscape a little like the one above.

***

Thought for the Day

"She decided to free herself, dance into the wind, create a new language. 

And birds fluttered around her, writing 'yes' in the sky." 

- Monique Duval

Early Morning Melody

Early Morning Melody

Oil on blackened, cradled beech panel, 16x16

At Center Framing & Art, West Hartford Center, CT

A few days ago, in a book called "The Secret Lives of Color," I encountered the idea that, in the past (and I'd add, in academia and serious intellectual artistic thought today), drawing - line, architecture, replication - were far more important than color. Drawing skills were what was valued, and I can see that when I think of the famous, pre-Impressionist paintings (that honestly - yes, I am a peasant! - mostly bore me).

When I read this, my entire painting life began to make sense to me, and I found my recent questions answered. I've often said that my paintings are all about color - and I have said that off-handedly. But truly and honestly, they are, and always have been, all about color, in a serious and fundamental manner.

Dropping the brush and taking up the knife was a vital step along this route. It allowed me to apply pure color to the canvas, while loosening my grip on line, drawing and detail.

All of this has helped me understand and accept the mosaics , which have worried me enormously of late. Now I see they are the next logical step in the exchange or abandonment of line for color. In large part, with these pieces, I am building the painting by using only the building blocks of color, light and shadow.

To some degree, this is what I've been doing all along - but the mosaics do it in an undisguised and raw way. They are harder to do than anything I've attempted so far. Next blog post, I'll write a little bit about why.

***

Upcoming! 

The Wachapreague Volunteer Firemen's Carnival is on, Wednesday-Saturday, through July 7. The carnival supports the volunteer fire department, and is great fun! There are rides, games, food and music, on the carnival grounds, Atlantic Avenue, Wachapreague.

Our Fourth of July parade starts at 11:30 on the Fourth, on Main Street in Wachapreague. It's not a long parade, so don't be late! Amazing, spectacular, astonishing fireworks start at dusk on the Fourth. You can park in the park to watch. Donations are appreciated - the fireworks are put on by Rich Pulchaski, a local pyrotechnic genius, and he funds them pretty much by himself.

I'll be at two shows in July -

• the Wickford Fine Art Festival, Wickford, RI, July 7-8 and 
• the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts, State College, PA, July 12-15

And that is almost all my shows for the summer, so if you want to see my new work, I hope you'll be able to come! 

***

Dog of the Day

Met these two (and their service providers) in Onancock on Sunday. I've forgotten their names, but the one in the stroller is 15, I think! And the one walking is no spring chicken, either. 

***

A Final Thought

"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge,

That myth is more potent than history,

That dreams are more powerful than facts,

That hope always triumphs over experience,

That laughter is the cure for grief.

And I believe that love is stronger than death."

- Robert Fulghum, 

via "The Painter's Keys," where you can subscribe to get an always thoughtful, usually fascinating and often freaskishly pertinent newsletter. For free. 

Missouri Side Road

Missouri Side Road

Oil on black canvas, 10x10, $125

Yesterday, I took my beautiful work clothes, collected over two and a half decades in newspapers, and donated them to the second-hand store. 

This was a big, big deal for me, particularly in a year where the shows have so far been fairly lackluster. Even with all my hope, and all my desire and drive, even with all the support of my friends, family and collectors, even with all that, there's been a little snag of doubt way back in my brain. If this didn't work out, I could always go back to newspapers - and I still had the clothes I'd need to do that. 

Now, I don't. Now, I am truly launched, spirit, soul and wardrobe, into this artist's life, this road I've already been walking for years. My clothing and doubt burden lifted, my stride is lighter, my path more open, my sky and future even brighter. 

***

MY NEXT SHOW is July 9-10, in Wickford, RI. I'll be on Elam Street, Booth 82, close to where I have always been during this show. 

The Wickford Art Festival is a fine-art only show, which makes it a little different than most of the shows in which I participate. There's no jewelry, no clothing, no functional pottery. So it's fine art, and it's fine fun. And Wickford village itself is beautiful - a quintessential New England seacoast town. 

Hope to see you there! 

***

Dog of the Day

It's Baby Girl, who lives in Arivaca, AZ, with the Richardsons. I bet Baby Girl has been staying inside these past few days. A friend in New Mexico posted a photo of her dashboard thermometer, showing the outside air to be 124 degrees. Yikes!

***

A Final Thought

“I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.” 

― Anaïs Nin

The End of My Pirate Days

The End of My Pirate Days

Oil on black canvas, 36x48

Please click here to email me for price and availability

Click here for the lyrics to the Mary Chapin Carpenter song I used as the title for this painting

Under a brutal, blazing Omaha sun, 97 degrees and feeling like 107, I learned that my dear old Smokey would be gone by the time I arrived home. Smokey was at least 14, and a recent vet visit had shown a mass in his rectum. He stopped eating while I was away, and Peter said Smokey went downhill quickly. 

He was a wonderful, noble, silly dog. He looked like a bear, and had a ferocious bark, but was as sweet as a dog can be. Peter found him in a shelter while we were living in New York state, and while Smokey hadn't responded to any men while he'd been at the shelter, he took to Peter right away. I drove up to get him, and when I got him home, I opened the door of our station wagon and Smokey slipped his collar and took off, bounding through the melting March snow. 

I chased him - the wrong thing to do, I now realize - and Smokey fell in the rushing, icy Neversink River, racing shoulder-high behind our house. I went in, trying to get him, but the river was too strong, too cold, and I hauled myself out, wailing, sure that our new dog was drowned, and it was my fault. I was weeping when Peter caught up with me, and pointed to a tiny island across the river. 

Wet and bedraggled and certainly freezing cold, Smokey had made it to the island and was standing there, looking terrified forlorn and anything but fierce. 

I jumped in the car and took off. A Folun Gong group owned thousands of acres across the river from us. At their large, gold gates, I spoke into a speaker and somehow made myself understood. They let me in, and guided me to the island where Smokey was waiting, and I got him into the car and bundled him up and brought him home. 

Smokey had no idea how to play. He'd spent his life chained outside a house, with his brother, with whom he fought constantly. He knew nothing. But Jojo took one look at him, decided he was her best friend, and set about teaching him how to play. With his chow-stiff back legs and slight lack of coordination, Smokey was never the play-maven that Jojo was, but he learned, and they had fun and stayed the best of friends. 

Smokey used to sleep on our bed when it was lower, and he was more agile. When we moved to Wachapreague, he stationed himself in the doorway to our bedroom every night. I always thought he was protecting us, his humans, but when Jojo died, Smokey stopped sleeping there. All this time, he'd been protecting her. 

For weeks after she died, he'd stare at me whenever I came home, and he'd have a quizzical, hopeful expression on his face. Had I found Jojo? Had I brought her back to him? For the rest of his life, I believe, he looked for her. 

And now, he's found her. I think of them together, at the Rainbow Bridge, romping and frolicking, side by side, happy together, waiting for Peter and me.

***

Happy Buyers in Omaha

In spite of the brutal heat, I had a pretty good show in Omaha, in terms of sales. In terms of seeing friends and meeting people, it was a great show. Here are some happy buyers with their paintings. 

***

Friends, Too

And here are some pix of friends I got to see, and spend some time with, at the show

 

Fran and Doug took me out to dinner, above. 

Karen and Sherry took me out to breakfast, below. 

Below, Taylor and her fiance visited; she fell in love with my paintings last year, and has been a big fan and supporter ever since.

Friends of my friend Manja Yirka visited, too, below!  

My big hat was a big help... And below, a beautiful dragonfly spent hours and hours on a Pony Express painting, then more hours just hanging out on the wall of my tent. 

Above, he bought a painting, but only after spending a lot of time looking and considering. This buyer's care for an interest in my paintings really moved me. At one point, he turned around and said to me, "There's no one like you. No one paints like you." That meant a lot. 

***

Dog of the Day 

It's Smokey, of course. Above, the puppies adored him from the moment they met him. In the bottom photo, Koko also loved Smokey. That big, slow-moving dog, that thick, soft coat, his chow patience and shar-pei looseness, all conspired to make him loving and truly lovable.  

***

A Final Thought

"Any fool can be happy. It takes a (person) with real heart

 to make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep." 

- Clive Barker

Church in the Mountains

Church in the Mountains

Oil on black canvas, 10x10, $125

Please click here to email me if you'd like to buy this painting. 

The PayPal button keeps crashing this blogpost. 

I'm more than a little enchanted by the neo-Spanish architecture that dominates the landscape in and around Tubac. 

A painting I made last year shows some of the colors. But it's more than the colors. It's also the shapes, the square roofs, the rounded doorways and architectural projections. I like the way the sun hits these buildings, how the bright sides really capture the light, and the dark sides sink into deep, warm shadows. I like the way the deep colors of the mountains and of the earth show off the buildings, and how the subtle grays and greens of the winter trees and bushes softens and highlights everything.                                                                                                            I was happy, then, to find this Spanish-style church, with its cupola and tower sticking up above the brush, tall and bright in front of the mountains behind. The afternoon light was bright and rich and yellow, and warmed my winter bones while I painted. 

My painting in the landscape

***

REALLY? GRAVES FUNERAL HOME? Turns out Tommy Graves III played one season for the Pittsburgh Steelers, and won a Super Bowl XIV ring. Now, he and his double-breasted brothers run a funeral home in Norfolk. This 10-second ad came on during a playoff game.

***

Dog of the Day

Here's Ruth, whom I met while I was painting the church.

***

A Final Thought

"Don't be an art critic, but paint. Therein lies salvation."

- Paul Cezanne

Tumacacori - and an Excruciating Experience

Tumacacori

Oil on canvas, 10x10, $125

Click here to purchase 

(Or email me - carrieBjacobson@gmail.com - if the link doesn't work. It's an experiment!) 

This is the first of the available Arizona Byways paintings. The first person to click on the purchase link (or to email me) will be my patron and sponsor for the trip, and the owner of this lovely little piece! The price includes tax and shipping.

Here's my painting in the landscape, just up the road from my dad's house in Tubac.

***

I STARTED THIS BLOG with the notion of sharing the ups and downs of my painting career, and to be honest, no matter how brutal or painful.

I've experienced two events that were pretty excruciating - but from which, I have learned worlds. Here's the first one. The second will follow in my next posting.

In Scottsdale, AZ, there's a man named Jason Horejs who heads the very beautiful Xanadu Gallery. Jason not only runs the gallery (actually two galleries, now), but he also does a lot for artists, including writing an excellent book - "'Starving' to Successful"), publishes a regular catalog in which artists choose to participate, writes a blog and runs online seminars, including a series that focuses on bringing one artist from working in the studio to selling in the gallery.

Over the years, I've participated in a number of his productions, bought his book, and become increasingly sort of awed at how much he gives to help artists.

So when I decided that part of the focus of this trip would be to screw up my courage and approach galleries, I decided that Xanadu would be one of the galleries I would approach.

I found the main gallery in Scottsdale, picked up a bag in which I'd stashed a recent painting ("Free Already"), took a handout I'd made that introduced myself and showed a few more paintings, and set out.

Heart thumping, head buzzing with fear and courage combined, I entered the gallery - palatial, gorgeous and filled with amazing art - and asked for Jason. Not here, the woman said. At the other gallery, just down the road. I set off, momentarily relieved, but thinking, "Great, I have to do this again."

At the other gallery, I strode in (this one is smaller, more intimate, and again, filled with lovely art). In a moment, Jason walked down the stairs. I introduced myself, handed him my paper, and pulled the painting from the bag.

He told me right away that at the moment, he just didn't have room for a new artist, but that I could check back with him in March or April. OK, I said, I understand. But did he want to see my painting anyways? Sure, he said.

And then, it happened. I reached into the bag and realized, to my utter dismay, that the painting had smeared. It hadn't been dry when I put it in the bag! My heart just broke. Here I was, having summoned the courage to show my paintings to this man who's helped me so very much, and about whose gallery I had had such high and optimistic hopes - and I had totally, completely and horrifyingly screwed up. I felt like melting into the floor, and I am amazed that I didn't.

Jason was kind, of course. This sort of thing happens, not my day, etc. I left, red-faced and feeling broken, and walked back to my van.

I sat there for a few moment, fighting tears. And then I decided that I would go back. I would march back in there, with a different painting, a painting I knew was dry, and ask him to look.

That's what I did. He looked, and I could see the initial, horrible impression I'd made fall away just a little. He didn't turn around and say, "Yes! I'd love to have you in my gallery!" - his rejection had happened even before the painting disaster - but I could see that I had redeemed myself, just a little.

I will keep in touch with Jason, and I will hope that this meeting was the start of a process that ends with me being represented by Xanadu. And even if it doesn't, I learned a few valuable lessons from my mortifying encounter.

***

Dog of the Day

Yes, I have Dog of the Day photos from this trip, but I am missing my honey and my own dogs, so Abby (left) and Koko are the Dogs of the Day, here on the couch with Peter! 

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

***

A Final Thought

"If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing." 

- Marc Chagall

Winter in Accomack - and Arizona Byways Calling

Winter in Accomack

Oil on black canvas, 18x18, $385

Please click here to email me to buy this painting

As many of you know, I've made sponsored painting trips the past three years - To Tubac and Back,  the California Calling Painting Extravaganza, and the Origins Painting Trip.  Each time, people bought paintings in advance from me, then chose paintings in the order they signed up for sponsorships. 

I'm going to Arizona in about a week., to visit my dad and stepmother, participate in the Tubac Arts Festival, and paint in Tubac and the surrounding area. I'll be posting the paintings and my adventures here on the blog, and making them available to everyone. 

If you're sure you'd like a Southwest painting, and you'd like to reserve your selection, you'll find a PayPal link below. I'll email everyone who reserves a jpg of each painting as I finish them, so you'll have a chance to buy them before I post them on line. People will have their choices in the order in which they sign up. After sponsors have a day to decide, I'll post the paintings on the blog, and you'll all have a chance to buy them - first come, first served! 

I will tell you all that I'm planning a painting trip to Montana and Wyoming this summer, so if you have a one-painting-by-Carrie annual budget, that's information you might need, to help you make your decision.

The link is for a 10x10, at $125. If you want a larger piece, please email me and we can talk price and size. 

And keep your fingers crossed for decent traveling weather! 

***

OK, I know it's terrible for the environment when gas prices are this low. But I'm about to start a summer's worth of driving, and I'm grateful. This was in Virginia Beach this week. 

***

Dog of the Day

It's Koko! Here she is with her second-favorite toy. 

Her very favorite toy is about 5'8", with red hair and paint-splattered pants. 

***

A Final Thought

"I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality." 

- Frida Kahlo

House on a Hill, and the Studio Boat

House on a Hill

Oil on canvas, 6x12, $75

sold

This painting feels like a breakthrough. And it feels like something I've been heading toward for a while.

I stumbled on an idea when I was finishing another painting. I'd made a sky that took my mosaic sky idea (click here and here for paintings with good mosaic skies) and went one step further, when it occurred to me that I might be able to paint in a way that illuminates my belief in the interconnectedness of all things.

So I set out to make a painting that brings the sky into the mountains, the mountains into the fields, the fields into the structures on them, etc.

I love this little painting, and how it does manage to tie everything in together - or at least, in my eyes, it does. What do you think? Does it illustrate the concept? What do you think of it as a painting, without any further thought or meaning?

***

Studio Boat 

LAST NOVEMBER, when I was in Texas between shows, I went to the Houston Museum of Art and saw a great show of Claude Monet's paintings of the Seine. It was fascinating to watch his painting style and his area of interest change over the years, going from very precise paintings of boats in the harbor, with every mast and piece of rigging intact, to the soft, blurry, impressionistic pieces he painted near the end of his life, when his style had changed and his vision deteriorated. 

An exciting part of the show was finding that Monet had a studio boat, a stable, covered craft in which he painted the shore, from the water. I have been hankering for a studio boat ever since! Do any of you have one? Have you ever seen one? I have found several sets of plans, and then saw this one (below) in an issue of a newsletter I receive. The letter was focusing on the houseboat behind the studio boat; I've written to the real estate agent who has that houseboat for sale, but I haven't heard back. 

***

Dog of the Day

Saw this lovely Great Dane back in May, at the show in Richmond. He's a beauty! 

***

A Final Thought

"Painting is the grandchild of Nature. It is related to God." 

- Rembrandt

Autumn on the Lake

Autumn on the Lake

Oil on canvas, 10x10, $100 

In winter, here on the Eastern Shore, there's generally not much snow - though Peter witnessed the breaking of that rule this past winter, while I was in Arizona. What happens mainly is that everything becomes sort of gray. There's not much sunshine, and there's not much color. 

I was missing color when I made this painting.  I guess it could be brighter, but I don't know how. And believe me, it is at least as bright in real life as what you're seeing here on the blog! 

***
Dog of the Day

A couple weeks ago, I was contacted by Anne Pinkerton of the Paradise City Arts Festivals. She writes stories on exhibitors at the shows, and wanted to do one on me. Yay!

The piece came out really well - you can read it by clicking here. 

Anne told me how much she enjoys the Dog of the Day, and she sent me pix of both her dogs. So, meet Trixie! Her pal Hank will be the DOD soon.

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

***

A final thought

"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious."

- Albert Einstein

Down the Fence Line - and Still Point Gallery

Down the Fence Line

Oil on canvas, 18x18

So far, my recent question about flower paintings vs. other categories of paintings I make has elicited interesting and varied responses.  Some people like flower paintings best, others like landscapes, others like my animal paintings. No votes yet for cowboy paintings! 

I'm in the midst of this farm series - the Red Barn series - and I really like it. I've always loved farms, and at one point, thought I might like to be a farmer. Then I realized how much work it is! 

***

A FRIEND AND FOLLOWER of this blog told me about Still Point Art Gallery's regular online shows. Today, one of my paintings - "I Do" - is on the home page! All of you artists, sculptors and photographers in there might consider entering these shows. It's $25 for three images, and I believe it's fairly competitive. 

The work is shown on the website and in a lovely magazine that you can see online, or order on paper. Still Point publishes a variety of books, in addition to having the online gallery. Click here to reach the gallery's homepage. 

***

Dog of the Day

Saw this dog outside the Island House restaurant, 

while Jojo and I were walking. He makes me think of Sam. 

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

***

A final thought

"There was such a glory over everything. 

The sun came up like gold through the trees, 

and I felt like I was in heaven."

- Harriet Tubman

Morning in Westerly - and Max Gets a Special Delivery

Morning in Westerly, RI

Oil on canvas, 20x20

Please click here to email me for price and availability

My first show of the year is this weekend at the convention center in Virginia Beach. My display will consist nearly entirely of new paintings, including this one, and I am excited and interested to see how these paintings are received. 

The show is Saturday and Sunday, and starts at noon each day. It's in conjunction with the Coastal Virginia Winefest, which apparently includes tastings of wine and beer, accounting for the late opening time and $50 entry fee. 

It's the first year for this art show, which is being put on by the Museum of Contemporary Art, the same people who put on the Boardwalk Art Show and the Neptune Festival. First-year shows can be dicey, but this one seems to be advertised heavily, and as part of a known event, has a better chance of success than many first-year shows. I'll let you all know how it goes. 

***

AFTER THE SHOW, I will spend the coming week painting and packing the van for the Origins Painting Trip.  (There's still time to get a sponsorship, and I can handle a few more. Click here for info!) 

Friday is Peter's birthday. We will have a nice little celebration, and then on Saturday, I will head out for the west. I am starting to get excited! 

This is Window Rock, a famous formation just a few miles from where I spent my first months. The headquarters of the Navajo Nation are right at Window Rock now. 

***

Dog of the Day

It's Max! I ran into him in the post office. He gave me a good sniffing - but what he was really interested in was Jackie, and the cookies she gives him every time he visits.