In a year of fundamental and existential shifts one of the most profoundly traumatic and transformative was the untimely passing of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
In a year when not a day went by without weeping that day, we heard the news, was truly the nadir among all the trials and sorrows. A test from the Stoic Gods at war with the Muses.
Tribute upon tribute recorded her legacy as a “Prophet of Justice”. That was a fine place to begin.
The hand painted teacup is among my finest Her two gilded handles…the scales The stalwart facade of the wooden bench flanked by a single marble column…on the left Iron clad lace trimming a plain muslin cloth and the beaded stars heavenly hung in dissent and wisps of whimsy trailing notes of the sublime
Dearest Prophet…may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
Shivering here in the studio the winter winds are swirling about and a storm is brewing just over the horizon…
in a teacup ?
There is nothing that makes me happier than a monster snow storm in the forecast. So, as I prepare to batten down the hatches for the Nor’easter predicted to hit us soon.. I’ve created a tiny video for you to get a closer look at this temped tossed teacup…stay safe and SHOVELS UP !!!
I have Pete Seeger to thank for this one…and for his lifetime of advocacy and good trouble.
The aging hippie that I am was raised on ’60’s folk music It runs through my veins and wallows around in my soul While my fingers can still strum it plays out on my guitar
The aging artist that I am is informed by those chords And accompanies those rhythms tapping brushes on teacups
Among the many tributes to Pete upon his passing to that big sing along in the sky were many references to his activism. Lending his powerful musical voice to social, political and environmental justice inspired many a generation.
But this particular parable…inspired my Muses…
Parable of the Teaspoon Brigade
Imagine that there’s a big seesaw. At one end of it is a basket half full of rocks. That end is on the ground.
At the other end is a basket one-quarter full of sand. And a bunch of us with teaspoons, we’re trying to put sand in that end.
A lot of people laugh at us, they say
“Oh, don’t you see, it’s leaking out as fast as you’re putting it in.”
Well, we say, “It’s leaking out, but we’re getting more people with teaspoons all the time. One of these days, you’re gonna see that whole basket with sand so full that this seesaw is going to go zoooom-up in the other direction.”
And people will say, “Gee, how did it happen so quickly?”
Us and our damned little teaspoons.
I don’t remember where I lifted this from but it has been carried over from one sketchbook to another and another for years until…
the Muses decided it was time the silver topped stick was Ted’s the well worn cane came by way of my great grandfather the teaspoons sat in Jane’s shop the teacups from my shelves… the magic the determination the hope and the joy… that’s all Pete… will you grab a teaspoon and join us ?
As we walk softly into these longest nights of the season my heart skips lightly back to the remembered warmth of a late summer day when there were just enough ripened green beans to make a supper’s serving for two.
I have a few NEW PAINTINGS to begin posting…the one above has headed out to Gallery 1261 in Denver.
But it reminded me of today since I spent the morning making an addition to the Ruth Stout bed.
It is mostly Matt’s fault because he keeps texting me about how well his “undercover” veg are doing and because he is my go to garden buddy. It’s so nice to throw ideas and new gurus back and forth and he is a witty soul who takes his garden very seriously.
Here are the rapid fire pics of the process begun early this frosty morning…
A chance to finally use all the cardboard I have been saving for the entire year.
Even threw in the Quarantine Box…awe Finn
Then it was time to haul all the leaves I had corralled into a bin on the other side of the yard.
I filled the spaces in with the stash of Vineyard Gazettes…minus the crossword puzzles. It was heart wrenching to track the Covid headlines as the island has joined the nation with the out of control surge heading into the winter. These aren’t in order but they give you an idea…
Herself arrived in time to lend a hand and it took two bales of hay to cover the new 11 x 14 foot annex. The Ruth Stout bed now boast 960 sq feet of gardening space.
So, as I feature the “Last of the Season” it feels good to be laying the foundation for the season yet to come. May we all stay safe and healthy to be here to enjoy it.
Early dark and I’m almost finished here in the studio…
Before I go, on this eve of gratitude, I wanted to thank all our galleries and the hard workers who have managed to keep the doors open during this difficult year allowing we artists to keep working and filling those walls. So…to the folks at Gallery 1261 in Denver, Michael and Christie at Sugarman Peterson Gallery in Santa Fe, and Chris, Shiela and all our dear gallerista friends at The Granary Gallery on Martha’s Vineyard…love and thanks from the bottom of my brushes.
And a special treat…A new video for a very special painting…Arthur’s Light…Available at the Sugarman Peterson Gallery in Santa Fe (website is under construction and at the time of this writing Covid restrictions have closed business – I will update as soon as they are open but inquiries can be made via phone at (505) 820-0010 )
Here we are…it’s the morning of the Granary Gallery Show Opening
I want to personally thank all of you who have taken the time to read the string of Blog Posts which have lead up to today’s opening. You being with us for this ride and offering kind words of support and encouragement along the way has softened the edges of the rough parts and lightened the air here in the studio.
So…from our studio
To the red barn on Old County Road on the island of Martha’s Vineyard
And into the homes of all you friends and patrons…