Lupines

Lupines

Oil on canvas, 10x20, $300

The first painting on a painting trip, in my limited experience, is filled with stress.

I mean, here I am, leaving everything about daily life behind, leaving my husband, leaving my home, leaving my obligations, so I can go somewhere far away and paint. Really, these paintings had better be good, right? Otherwise, I could have just stayed home and painted in the back yard.

On both of my previous painting trips, I've been surprised by how stiff and tight and nervous I was, making those first paintings. This time, I was prepared.

I was still stiff and tight and nervous - but I expected it. So I got through the first few strokes, the first big blocks of color, the first misjudgments and goofs, and I corrected, and loosened up and began to delight in what I was doing.

Heather and I were painting on the side of a dirt road where lupines grew in blocks so thick, the air was filled with scent. It was absolutely amazing.

We painted, we packed up, we left, and moments down the road, we saw a moose.

Now, we are in Canada, where the air is clear and filled with sun, and the sky runs down into the water. I can't wait to paint!

Thanks for reading.

On Our Way

Here's me on the porch of an adorable cabin for sale near the place where we're staying.
For the cabin and one acre, $20,000! 

We are still in Maine, but we're close to the border!

I got to Heather's house in Brownfield, Maine, at about noon, and we left around 2. We made it to Aroostock County, to the Katahdin Lodge in Moro Plantation, Maine, about 7:30. Most of the drive today was highway, but the final 15 miles or so wound through gorgeous mountains with views of Katahdin and other, farther ridges.

We saw a round-bellied road worker, a belted kingfisher, several rabbits (cleanly separated... see most recent posting), a deer so red it looked artificial, and farms and fields golden in the clear dusk.

Here are some photos from the day:

Here's Heather

Here are two of Heather's sculptures

Here's me, at Heather's house. See her flowers? 

Here's our van, loaded and ready! 

We hope this is not a sign of things to come. 

Tomorrow, Canada! 

Thanks for reading. 

Morning Fog

Morning Fog

Oil on canvas, 16x20

By this time Wednesday, Heather and I will be on our way to the Gaspe Peninsula.

Well, we might be unloading and reloading the van, but the point is, the journey will have begun!

Expect a day or two with no paintings, but then, if the weather and the luck holds, you'll be seeing paintings from a place that I believe is going to be amazingly beautiful. It will surely be new, that much I know. And it looks like it will be cold!

Think well of us as we head north. And thank you, as always, for reading.

The Rabbit Separator

The Rabbit Separator

Oil on canvas, 16x20, $400

Before Heather and I leave for Canada (wednesday!!!), I had to deliver art to the Wallkill River School, in Montgomery, NY. I'm a represented artist there, and my work and the work of other represented artists hangs year round in a nice hallway gallery. The hallway show changes every month, and it seems like I am always behind the eight ball in terms of delivering my work.

So on Sunday, I delivered pieces for July, August and September, along with work for a new art-leasing program, and a piece to be entered into an auction.

And I had the chance to paint with my friends, and talk with Susan Miiller about a cool project she's launched (more on that in a moment).

I was painting this scene, standing in the field with my friends George Hayes and Shawn Dell Joyce, when I realized that I didn't know what the red machine was.

Now, usually, I don't bother so much with the names of things. I wasn't going to paint the thing in any detail anyways, but as I painted its planes and surfaces, I couldn't help but ask.

"It's a rabbit separator," Shawn said. "It gets the rabbits safely out of the way before the field is mowed."

Well, it sounded good to me. I mean, I was pretty sure she was kidding, but you know, I liked the idea.

So, this painting is "The Rabbit Separator." Why not? (The thing, by the way, is a hay baler. Or so I'm told).

OK, now to the big, cool project Susan Miiller has started, and invited me and all of you to participate in!

Susan has engineered two exhibits in Orange County, NY. Both are intended to benefit the Port Jervis/Deerpark Humane Society, in New York state, near where we used to live. It's a good shelter, and could really use our help.


Painters with the Art for Shelter Animals Project have heard about this already, but it all bears repeating. In ASAP, painters make portraits of animals in their local shelter or with their local rescue group, and then donate the art to the shelter or rescue group. The shelter or rescue group can do whatever it wants with the art: sell it, auction it, use it as an inducement for adoption, or use it to brighten their offices. 


The project is an excellent opportunity for artists of all kinds. Since the art is donated, you are freed from all restrictions and rules. It will never be juried, judged and criticized; it will be loved and appreciated - so you can experiment, try a new color, paint with your heart. 

So, go to the Port Jervis/Deerpark website -  http://www.pjhumane.org/  - and find an animal who appeals to you. The animals to be painted are at the very bottom of the home page.

Make a portrait, then take a photo of it and email it to me (carrieBjacobson@gmail.com) for posting on the ASAP blog!

Then deliver it to the Wallkill River School (or mail it... address is below) and you're off.

The first exhibit takes place in the office of Jeff Parker, 156 Pike St., Port Jervis. Parker is a podiatrist and an artist and an animal lover. He has a very nice space to show and sell art. That exhibit goes from July 26-Sept. 10.

Then, the work will move to the Deerpark Museum, for a one-day show on Sept. 18. Anyone who is in the area is invited to come and demonstrate during the day.

After that, the work will go to the shelter, in the usual way.

As always, you can frame the pieces if you want, but you don't have to. It would be great if you would put a wire on the back for hanging.

Please mail your pieces to:

Susan Miiller
Wallkill River School
232 Ward St.
Montgomery, NY 12549

This is a wonderful opportunity. I hope you join in! 

Serious

Serious

Oil on canvas, 12x12, $350

I painted this yellow lab during the day on Monday, the final day of the Paradise City Art Festival. It is always a crapshoot, painting in public, but I like it.

I'm not a careful, deliberate painter. I mean, I think about my paintings, sometimes for quite a while before I start, and when I am painting, I consider each stroke - but for moments, not for hours or days. When I do get going, I paint quickly and with very little thought. For me, this is where a lot of the mystery resides: It is not my conscious self, choosing that color, deciding on that line. At the very best of times, it is something ethereal, a higher power, something simply outside myself. My physical self vanishes, I become a vessel. I paint, I look up, two hours are gone.

Doing this in public can be a little disconcerting. People stop me, talk, look - and that's part of it. I'm learning to get back into the zone in and around the interruptions. I did it pretty well with this painting, which is even more stern (and funny) in real life than in this image.

Heather and I leave in less than a week for Canada! We will be driving up the northern rim of the Gaspe Peninsula, then around its rim and south. Depending on weather and time, we'll head into New Brunswick, then maybe to Prince Edward Island, and maybe even Nova Scotia. Click here to get to a map of the area and see where we'll be driving and painting. I intend to post my paintings and our story, whenever possible!

Spring Field

Spring Field

Oil on canvas, 16x20
Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me

if you are interested in buying this painting

Last summer, I had a show for the month of August in Denmark, Maine, and was lucky enough to stay there for a couple weeks. Each day, I went out and painted, and replaced a dry painting in the show with a fresh plein-air piece. It was fun, it was a challenge - and nearly all of them sold.

So I decided to do the same thing at Paradise City. I made two plein-air paintings, and did one live demonstration, painting a yellow lab on Monday, in front of the booth.

None of these paintings sold, but I like all of them, and I like that I did all of them.

This whole thing is an experiment, and if I push myself hard enough, the experiment becomes a sustained journey of discovery - artistic discovery, philosophic discovery, self-discovery. I feel grateful to have all of this at a time when discovery could be nothing but a distant memory.

Paradise City!

My booth at the show

Well, I am back from my first big outdoor show, and I am feeling happy and successful! Paradise City was phenomenal for me. Five of my paintings sold! I met about a thousand people, learned about a million lessons and had a great, if exhausting, time.

It's hard to believe that I haven't posted since May 19, but it's the truth. I spent 10 very hectic days getting ready for the show, finishing paintings, framing, making decisions, and fixing up my booth. Peter and I spent more time decorating that 10 by 10 space than most people spend on their entire houses, I think.

But it paid off. I had a pleasant, welcoming booth, and it looked pretty good compared to the others at the show. Some of the displays were just astonishingly gorgeous. Some were nicer than any house I've lived in. Most were more elegant than mine, more professional, but I was able to make some adjustments that brought mine up to par - and as always, I am learning. Learning, learning, learning.

It was a joy to show my paintings in such surroundings. Everywhere I looked, work sparkled. The furniture, the sculpture, the jewelry... the glass, the fabrics, the clothing.... and did I mention the jewelry? It was amazing, nearly all of it.

Thousands and thousands of people came through. They were fun, and interested, and smart. They were gracious, and eager to engage. The thrill that I have when people connect with my art, I had that all three days, over and over. It really was miraculous.

And the organization of this show, wow. Everything was taken into consideration. People were waiting for me when I arrived, with information and directions. Help was available. Every day, the carpets were vacuumed, the trash picked up, the porta potties cleaned, the parking lots and walkways washed and watered. Every day, staffers came around to make sure we were OK, make sure we didn't need anything. If there was a problem, it was solved instantly.

But it was exhausting. I woke at 5, made a painting, arrived at 8, worked on the booth, opened at 10, closed at 6 and stood pretty much the entire time. Yesterday, I slept pretty much all day. Today, I feel like myself, but a little farther down the road.

Thanks for reading!