Laughing Gull Over the Ocean

Laughing Gull Over the Ocean / oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 includes shipping

sold! 

I'VE BEEN SPENDING a lot of time and a lot of psychic and spiritual energy clearing out my home. 

I am deep in it - and finding that while the decisions are difficult, they are not as difficult as they were when I started. Part of that is that I am angry at the stuff itself - that it's a part of my life, that it is taking all this space and all this energy. I am angry that we hauled it all around for so long - and of course, I am angry that Peter is dead and that I'm doing all of this alone. But mostly, that's an afterthought. Mostly, I am mad at the stuff itself.

And this makes it easier to toss it. Even some of the hard stuff - a scrapbook of items from our honeymoon in France, for instance. Metro tokens from trips I don't remember, menus from restaurants I can't recall, bills from hotels where we stayed for one night or maybe five. I hadn't opened that scrapbook in 20 years, and when I opened it, I thought I couldn't possibly throw it away. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that tossing it was the right thing to do. And when I did, it felt great. It felt like relief. 

I will never forget our honeymoon. I will never forget the memorable restaurants, the hundreds of hours we walked through the streets of Paris, the photographs he took, the countryside we saw, the cathedrals we visited, the joy we shared at being together and being married. 

In the same way that Peter isn't IN the clothes that he bought, or IN the couch we put together, or IN the books he loved so much, he was not IN that scrapbook. He is in my heart, in my memories, in my soul. The stuff is just stuff - and needs to be gone. 

***

For Today

"To be an artist is to believe in life." 

Henry Moore

Raven

 Raven / oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 including shipping

THIS MOTHER'S DAY, Erika gave me what might be the best gift I've ever had.

After Peter died, I gave her his beloved Guild guitar. She brought it to have some repairs made, got the strings from it and had a jeweler friend of hers and mine make earrings from those strings.

They are circles, representing - according to a slip of paper in the box - "notions of wholeness and original perfection, the self, the infinite, eternity, timelessness and all cyclic movement - the infinite nature of energy, and the inclusivity of the universe.

From each circle dangles a garnet, which is Erika's and Peter's birthstone. It is also "known as a spiritual stone of higher thinking and self-empowerment. It is a stone of prosperity, abundance, strength and safety."

She also included in the package her original drawings, and the rest of the strings.

Of course, I wept.

Now I will wear these earrings and they will help me heal, help me get on with life, bringing Peter and Erika with me, the past and the future, as bright and round and eternal as can be. Every time I wear them, they will remind me of the best of life - love and faith and hope and family. And art.

Can you see? Just past the wrinkles and just before the color-growing-out hair...

***

An Invitation

THE MARK TWAIN HOUSE, in Hartford, CT, is a great place, important, and around the corner from where my brother and his family live. It is hosting a series of online literary events during The Great Confinement, as Rand calls it (Rand is Rand Richards Cooper, my brother). 

On Tuesday, May 12, at 7 p.m., Rand - who is a terrific writer and a longtime restaurant reviewer - will be reading a memoir essay about restaurants. 

To incentivize people to attend online on Tuesday, Rand is pledging to donate $5 for each person who registers for the event. The money will go to CHEF, the Connecticut Hospitality Employee Relief Fund, which gives grants to out-of-work restaurant employees. Rand will donate up to $1,000. 

So - it's for a good cause, you can make my brother pay up, and in addition, you'll hear a thoughtful and engaging essay (I've heard this one - it'd good!) 

Here's the link to register - https://www.crowdcast.io/e/rand-cooper-on-listening/register

***

For Today

Biological Reflection

A girl whose cheeks are covered in paint

Has an advantage with me over one whose ain't. 

- Ogden Nash

(OK, I am sure he's talking about makeup, but I prefer to think he's talking about paint.)

House Sparrow

House Sparrow / Oil on black canvas, 5x7 , unframed / $68 including shipping

sold!

I HAVE TO SAY, this might be my favorite painting that I've done so far in the Bird a Day series. 

Of course, I think that about nearly every one, as I finish, but this time, the feeling has persisted. 

I know how terrible it is to prefer one of your children to the rest - they all have good points, they all have their strengths, the things that make you love them - but this painting just makes me happy. 

I have quite a soft spot in my heart for the little brown birds, the unobtrusive ones who don't call attention to themselves, who don't hammer away, or sing relentlessly, or laugh wildly up in the sky, or kill other birds, or steal their babies. The little brown and gray birds are just a part of the backdrop of life, and I find them beautiful, in the same way that I find that patch at the side of the road at least as gorgeous as the national park a mile away. 

***

For Today

Today

Today I'm flying low and I'm

not saying a word.

I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,

the bees in the garden rumbling a little,

the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.

And so forth.

But I'm taking the day off.

Quiet as a feather.

I hardly move though really I'm traveling

a terrific distance.

Stillness. one of the doors

into the temple.

- Mary Oliver

From "A Thousand Mornings"

Mama Cardinal at Her Bath

Mama Cardinal at Her Bath / oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 includes shipping

sold! 

A FRIEND FROM HIGH SCHOOL sent me a photo recently, and I based this painting on it. We had seen each other from time to time over the years, and reconnected recently, which has made me very happy. 

And it led me to think about some other longtime friends, and, really, how lucky I am that they are still in my life. There are a couple from my childhood and teen years, and a couple from college. And all of these times are way, way in the past now. 

Pretty much all of these longtime friends showed up for Peter's memorial service, and that touched my heart deeply. It's wonderful when the friends of the present reach out. It lets me know I am loved. When the friends of the past do, it is a call that echoes deep in my heart, and lets me know I have been loved. 

I am lucky to have friends of the moment and of the past who care for me, and have paid attention over the years, and reached out, and kept the friendship alive. It prompts me in these quiet days, to make calls, to reach out, to remember. 

***

For Today

"All art is an attempt to manifest the face of God in life." 

- Cecil Collins

Barn Swallow

Barn Swallow / oil on black canvas / 4x12 unframed / $88 includes shipping

sold! 

IN THIS TIME OF ISOLATION, I have come to love the long stretches of days free of appointments and obligation. It is a joy to wake up in the morning and understand, in a way I've never understood before, that today actually IS what I make it.

I love that there is less traffic. Fewer airplanes. I love that the environment is recovering, even this quickly, even with just this brief respite. Can we not learn from this, and change? 

I love that this has forced an end - if only briefly - to the rampant acquisitiveness that has become such a hallmark of American life - the constant striving to get more, earn more, be more. Yes, some of this is good - but to my eyes, it is out of control in America. Greed is not good. Really. 

I hope that this recess will curb the stupid and pointless fascination with entities like the Kardashians, Desperate Housewives, E Entertainment and the entire celebrity worship business. 

Can we not look at ourselves, our families and our happiness during these months - even if that happiness is strained, and constrained, and stressed by everything difficult about all this - can we not look at it and realize that we just don't need that crap? That our own lives are so much more interesting and so much more valuable that Beyonce's, or whoever it is that is the current ons-named darling - people whose single monikers I am pleased to say I don't know. 

I hope that we find that we no longer live in a world where a $50-per-person dinner is called "cheap."

I hope we travel less, want less, sleep more, cook more. Value our family and friends more, realize that time is worth more than money. I hope that we learn and live and understand that what we want is here, like Dorothy said, not THERE, some elusive there. 

***

For Today

"If all the world were clear, art would not exist."

- Albert Camus

Henpecked

Henpecked /Oil on black canvas / 11x14 unframed /  $185 includes shipping

sold!

I'M SITTING IN THE KITCHEN this morning, and the back door is open. That means the dogs can run in and out at will - and they love it. They think they are big deals, since they don't have to get me to open the door for them. Masters of their destiny. 

There aren't many days in the year when I can do this - when the temperature is not too hot or too cold, and there aren't too many bugs. Right now, Doc is standing in the open doorway, looking out, and Lulu is sitting on the top step, and they are quiet and happy. 

Those spring and fall stretches when I can leave the door open are also the stretches whenthe time and the temperature are most likely to show up as the same numbers on my little digital thermometer/clock on the kitchen windowsill. So at 5:40, if it is 54.0 degrees, the numbers are the same. At 6:10, it might be 61.0 degrees.

There's only a small window for this silliness, and I always looked forward to it and laughed, and then found that Peter also always looked for it and laughed at it. It's still a special, silly thrill, and it still always makes me smile and think of him. 

***

For Today

Spring Reign

Thank you whoever tuned the radio

to rain, thank you who spilled

the strong-willed wine for not

being me so I'm not to blame. I'm glad

I'm not that broken tree although

it looks sublime. And glad I'm not

taking a test and running out of time.

What's a tetrahedron anyway? What's

the sublime, 3,483 divided by 9,

the tenth amendment, the ferryman's name

on the River Styx? We're all missing

more and more tricks, losing our grips, 

guilty of crimes we didn't commit.

The horse rears and races then moves no more,

the sports coupe grinds to a stop, beginning

a new life as rot, beaten to shit, Whitman

grass stain, consciousness swamp gas,

the bones and brain, protoplasm and liver,

ground down like stones in a river. Or does

the heart's cinder wash up as delta froth

out of which hops frog spawn, dog song,

the next rhyming grind, next kid literati?

Maybe the world's just a bubble, all

philosophy ants in a muddle,

an engine inside an elk's skull on a pole.

Maybe an angel's long overdue and we're

all in trouble. Meanwhile thanks whoever

for the dial turned to green downpour, thanks

for feathery conniptions at the seashore

and moth-minded, match-flash breath.

Thank you for whatever's left.

- Dean Young

Great Horned

Great Horned Owl / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68

sold!

SKIPPED A DAY HERE, not because I didn't have the paintings, but because... I forgot. Me being me. 

And that is a thing I've realized about painting, Popeye - you am what you am. You paint who you are. 

If you are a detail person, painting detail is what delights you. If you're a big picture person, your painting is probably not going to focus on details. 

Some of this is obvious - if you love color, as I do, your paintings will tend to be colorful. Not such a fan of brightness? You will make quiet pieces, subtle and carefully toned. 

I think that painting, or any art, really, is a way to find out who you are - and so it works frontwards and backwards. By the time I started painting, I had already realized that I wasn't a great detail person - but I didn't understand that that was a defining part of my character. 

I've noticed, at the shows and in life, that most kids are happy, eager artists. They love to create, and they create exactly who they are. Exactly how they see the world. At about 12, a lot of them begin to measure themselves against others. Many of them leave paint and color and begin to draw. They leave fresh, bright paintings for detailed, serious, black and white pieces. Art becomes work - and guess what? They don't like doing it so much. 

It always makes me sad when I meet a kid and we start talking art and she tells me she likes to draw but she isn't very good. My best hope is that she will find the joy again, stop measuring herself against others, and just create. 

***

Bird a Day Video

WHILE I WAS FORGETTING to post this owl, I was making a video of the Bird A Day project so far. You can watch it on YouTube - it's pretty fun, I think! 

Here's the link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AEDuiN4ljY&feature=youtu.be

***

For Today

The Poetry Teacher

The university gave me an new, elegant

classroom to teach in. Only one thing,

they said. You can't bring your dog.

It's in my contract, I said. (I had

made sure of that.)

We bargained and I moved to an old

classroom in an old building. Propped

the door open. Kept a bowl of water

in the room. I could hear Ben among

other voices barking, howling in the 

distance. Then they would all arrive - 

Ben, his pals, maybe an unknown dog

or two, all of them thirsty and happy.

They drank, they flung themselves down

among the students. The students loved

it. They all wrote thirsty, happy poems.

- Mary Oliver

"Dog Songs"