Wolsey… this is one hysterical muse. I had a momentary respite, from her staccato background tapping. You’ll read below, that as the last Painter’s Notes were written, the studio fell silent. I took it as a sign. After years of Wolsey’s bombarding, every window through which I can be seen, and both wing mirrors on the truck, I thought maybe she/Ted/my father/whomsoever is driving that bird’s bus…was finally satisfied that I had received whatever message she was laying down.
Yesterday was a major clean up and trailer repair, so I was outside most of the day, but when I was inside…quiet. Today was a marathon of making the garden secure for the gardener to be away for a while. And now, I’m cooling down and crossing off the last things on the list. The second I sat here at the computer to log in the last of the new paintings…tap. TAP TAP TAP.
She’s back. Ya know, I was sort of afraid that the wandering cat, or a predator bird might have eaten her. So, I have to confess, after all this time and in spite of all the myriad levels of annoyance…I guess I sorta missed her.
Well, we are at the end now. These last three paintings complete the 2015 Granary Gallery Show. I hope to see some of you at the opening this coming Sunday, and, for those of you who won’t be able to make it, I thank you for all your support and kind words of appreciation. And now… I give you…Cardinal Wolsey…
Wolsey – 10 x 12
The following is an excerpt from November 2014. The bird had been pecking, steadily, at that point, for over a year. It is now June…2015…and if I could figure out how to put an audio recording on this site…you could hear her now.
Cardinal Wolsey. The ever present window slammer of a bird, is still with me. I now believe she is more than just a disturbed bird. Pat and Finn met a woman at the park last week who, after hearing the story of the intrepid one, immediately suggested that she was someone who I had known who had “passed on” and did I know anyone in the clergy. Well I sat back in my chair at that one. Seriously, my father, the Presbyterian minister, returned as the slammer ?
Possibly ? I’m still pondering that one. But this bird is definitely trying to tell me something. She now follows me from window to window and watches me all day long. The hurling Herself at the panes behavior seems to diminish when I settle in at the easel. Then she just flies up and stares at me…the rubbernecker.
Well, ok, that part could be Ted. He is definitely nudging me to focus on painting…probably as I write this…which is taking time away from what I began this blog with…
that perfect painting day.
Well, the dreary rain has turned to our first snowfall of the season. The promise of a winter wonderland, a bird in the oven, one at the window, and two dozen at the feeders…that’s all I need of Thanksgiving.
And, this…to all my friends and patrons, whose support allows me to do the work that is so meaningful to my soul…
Post Script – June 2015
After painting those eyebrows…I do believe it is Ted. He would wear the cappa magna with panache.
The Cardinal – 10 x 12
If you read the other notes on this little gal you understand the determination behind this gaze the relentless dementia of the tapping behavior the persistence of the muse
but you know what ?
ever since I finished these bird series paintings as I have been sitting here in the office for almost a week working on the computer to get these files up on the website and composing painters notes
Not a single tap.
The only other time that happened was when Zoe was here in the studio painting along side of me.
Now what do you make of that ?
Himself – 14 x 12
This is Ted’s teacup. (Thank you Terry) And an old coin silver spoon with which Ted gifted to us a long time ago.
But that bird… she’s all mine.
Cardinal Wolsey. Each time I painted her, I fell deeper into those eyes.
There’s a thing about birds. You can never get close enough in person to really look into their eyes.
I have dozens of good photos now of Wolsey, but there are hundreds of blurry rejects that were snapped just before and just after she smashed into the window.
The split second of the camera lens has given me a gift.
For all her racket, and by that I mean demented torturous unrelenting eternal-faucet-dripping madness of the tapping…