Sunset Through the Trees

Sunset Through the Trees / Oil on black canvas/ 8x10/ $120 including shipping

sold

I AM HEALING. I see it nearly every day, sometimes in big steps, sometimes small. And while I am glad for this - because, who wouldn't be? - there is part of me that feels a bit of sorrow about it. Does this make sense? In grieving Peter, in mourning him, I am close to him. Respectful of the life he led, the life we led together. I am with him. 

In healing, I am moving away. I am taking steps on my own. I am learning to live without him. I know this is necessary, and it is what I want, but in a way, I rue my burgeoning independence, my quickening heart, the delight I feel in new adventures, new ideas, new friends. 

I will continue to heal, I know, and to grow and prosper, and find my way in this world without him. I'll  probably never be entirely without sadness, and that is OK with me. That little bit of sadness is as much a link as the memories of joy, of love, and the sharing of our lives. 

***

Coda

You, Therefore

For Robert Philen

You are like me, you will die too, but not today:   

you, incommensurate, therefore the hours shine:   

if I say to you “To you I say,” you have not been   

set to music, or broadcast live on the ghost   

radio, may never be an oil painting or

Old Master’s charcoal sketch: you are

a concordance of person, number, voice,

and place, strawberries spread through your name   

as if it were budding shrubs, how you remind me   

of some spring, the waters as cool and clear

(late rain clings to your leaves, shaken by light wind),   

which is where you occur in grassy moonlight:   

and you are a lily, an aster, white trillium

or viburnum, by all rights mine, white star   

in the meadow sky, the snow still arriving

from its earthwards journeys, here where there is   

no snow (I dreamed the snow was you,

when there was snow), you are my right,

have come to be my night (your body takes on   

the dimensions of sleep, the shape of sleep   

becomes you): and you fall from the sky

with several flowers, words spill from your mouth

in waves, your lips taste like the sea, salt-sweet (trees   

and seas have flown away, I call it

loving you): home is nowhere, therefore you,   

a kind of dwell and welcome, song after all,   

and free of any eden we can name

- Reginald Shepherd

 

Mountain Sunset

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

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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

Seven Palms

Seven Palms

Oil on canvas, 18x36

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

After a few miserable shows in Florida a few years ago, I'm going back in late January for a show in Englewood. It's put on by an artist, and I was invited, so it feels different, and it seems to have a positive potential. So I thought it would be a good idea to make some Florida-ish paintings. This was my first, and I have to admit, I really love it! Of course, there is my delight with the color pink. Palm trees are fun to paint, and I had a ball with this one. The small pictures are details from the big piece - but I'm going to paint a couple small ones just like these, soon.

***

Ha! There's some kid's song that has this town name in it, and I laughed out loud - and sang the song about a zillion times - when I saw it.  I tried to upload an audio clip of me singing it, but I couldn't figure out how to do it! 

***

Dog of the Day

Here's Vinnie, just chillin'...

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A Final Thought

"He who works with his hands is a laborer. He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist." 

- Francis of Assisi

Spiral of Fall

Spiral of Fall

Oil on canvas, 10x10

sold

I still don't like how short these cold days are. And I don't like how cold these short days are, either.

This morning, it was 28 degrees - way chillier than the average temperature here in January. And yesterday, for a moment, it snowed. Well, there was snow in the air. Flakes, at least.

Here, in Wachapreague, the earliest sunset of the year comes at 4:44 p.m. We will hit that on Dec. 3, and will stick with that same sunset time through Dec. 11. Then, the sunset starts getting later again. So while Dec. 21 is the shortest day of the year, a later sunset is already well on its way by that date.

Want to check your sunset times? Click here to get to http://www.sunrisesunset.com/

***

THIS PAINTING is part of a project idea, an experiment that's taking me into new territory.

 "Colors of the Spirit," which I posted earlier in the month, is a sort of companion piece, another step in this project. Both are in unusual (for me) color palettes, and both have, to my eyes, an interesting autumnal sensibility, the dark days, the long nights, the thin November light.

"Colors of the Spirit" is up for auction on Daily Paintworks - you can reach the auction by clicking here. If you want both paintings, please drop me an email - carrieBjacobson@gmail.com - and we'll talk price and delivery and all that jazz.

***

Dog of the Day

A couple weeks ago, the Times Herald-Record, the newspaper that kicked me out of journalism, eliminated the jobs of yet another bunch of talented and experienced journalists. One of them is Mike Carey, who'd worked at the Record for decades. On a whim, I searched for Mike Carey on Facebook. I didn't find him (he is about the unlikeliest Facebook person alive), but I did find a bunch of interesting-looking Mike Careys, and one of them had this dog as his profile pic. Isn't this little guy adorable? 

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