This little pal has been very busy outside my studio window of late.
My numb and frozen digits can’t sense what her internal clock has registered.
But the switch has been thrown.
Clean up of all those storm downed limbs has begun…albeit on a tiny tiny scale.
But it’s a start, and judging by the monumentally increased activity levels…
the yard should be well sorted by the time I get to hang up my mittens.
Weave on my feathered friends…
Just for a few hours
I’d really like to sit on the porch
with my feet up
and almost all of the 15 layers of thermal woolen wear
laying in a pile to my right
and my snow shovel tossed into the weeds nearby
and feel the sun on my face
and have every joint in my hands be…not cold
and just listen to the birds
and the water lapping
on this shore…
pretty please.
I have a lot of things to say about this man…but right now the words are twisted up in my heart.
Last Tuesday, just about the exact time our electricity surged and vanished, so too did his heart.
The ensuing days in the cold and dark were made for the stalwart steadfast Yankee spirited New Englanders, like him. And the distractions of simple survival were just that, distractions.
Only now, as power has been restored and the outside world has followed the newly spliced cables into my studio space,
and the furnace has begun to restore my frozen digits,
and the breath is beginning to return to my soul…
only today am I able to return to the easel,
across from which is this painting,
which I am so glad I didn’t sell when someone pressured me a while back,
because I need him there,
since he is no longer sitting in his Chilmark wingback,
answering my phone call,
and directing the brushes from afar.
Ted Meinelt,
it’s all right then.
There has been a facebook campaign of late to flood the social networking space with art. So far I have been a lurker, learning of some new artists and revisiting some old friends…but yesterday An artist friend of particular note, Michael Allen…
check out his work here… http://michaelallenstudio.blogspot.com/ …
convinced me to play along and assigned to me the artist Rogier van der Weyden.
So, after a morning of playing in the latest snow storm with Zoe, here is my chosen entry, The Magdalena Reading…
because it reminds me, of course, of Herself doing the same…
although today,
instead of sitting at the old ironing board
while the snow piles up on the log cabin roof
she is most probably making forts and playing with legos…
Happy Studio Snow Day to all…
Another Hero has slipped off the planet…
and in his wake…
such big shoes to fill.
Go softly sweet men…Pete Seeger.
“I honestly believe that the future is going to be millions of little things saving us. I imagine a big seesaw, and at one end of this seesaw is on the ground with a basket half-full of big rocks in it. The other end of the seesaw is up in the air. It’s got a basket one-quarter full of sand. And some of us got teaspoons, and we’re trying to fill up sand. A lot of people are laughing at us, and they say, “Ah, people like you have been trying to do that for thousands of years, and it’s leaking out as fast as you’re putting it in.” But we’re saying, “We’re getting more people with teaspoons all the time.” And we think, “One of these years, you’ll see that whole seesaw go zooop in the other direction.” And people will say, “Gee, how did it happen so suddenly?” Us and all our little teaspoons…”
~ Pete Seeger
…Don’t get me wrong, I love a blizzard. EVERYTHING ABOUT A BLIZZARD, from the early rumblings of “something to keep an eye on” on the weather sites, to the empty aisles in the grocery stores…who needs milk and bread, we hit the chocolate and cheese sections, to making sure there is a shovel of some kind just outside each door, firewood on the back porch, emergency candles, rubber ducks floating in the water-filled bathtub…
then the countdown as NOAA tweaks and teases the snow totals out of the more reliable European model…like that.
Anticipation builds and nothing beats those few extra flakes that trump the forecasted foot or two. Yes, I love a blizzard.
But the last time we got one of those was when Finnegan was a little pup. And the winters in between have been dismally short on temps cold enough to produce the white stuff.
But……this winter is shaping up and laying down…in short controlled bursts… and I have been simply reeking of positivity lately, so I am happily learning to also LOVE these back to back to back little snowfalls.
Turns out 2-6 inches of snow offer almost all of the same gifts of beauty and soul warming wooly slippered comfort…without the sore shoveling muscles from moving those big mountains and drifts… and the cabin fever that hovers over Herself when she can’t get out of the lane.
The hearty Bernese Mt. Dog Finnegan has had weekly doses of heaven and has begun to take for granted that her first few steps each morning will be giant leaps into deliciously soft cold snow. I have rarely seen her this happy.
Herself has made several batches of her favorite snowstorm apple bake and now has the recipe…down Pat.
Sue and Zola helped to re-stock the firewood and the log cabin has been a toasty refuge for this tired artiste at the end of long luxurious days at the easel.
And, indeed, those long, glorious days at the easel have been pure bliss.
I was going to wax on about how the muses tend to find artists when the winter dampens the bridge to the outside world. How, in this world of bells and whistles which emanate from our pockets and conspire to shatter those hard fought for slivers of emptiness, we struggle to find mental rest stops.
And how magical it is,
that when just a couple inches of snow falls,
in the studio yard,
being forced to sit in stillness,
reshuffles the creative deck.
There ya go,
now I’m headed back to work.
Stay frosty out there…
I love this time of year.
When the fussy parts of the holidays are over,
and the warm cuddly bits of the festivities are still glowing softly…
When the long nights make for even longer shadows
in between which the muses dart and tease
on my frosty walks to and from the studio…
When I actually come close
to the creative hibernation that I seek
and the crazy world without…
is jettisoned for the crazy world within…
When my hands,
which are ever battling the dragons of idleness,
can reach for the always nearby knitting bag,
and find the comfort of the soft woolen winter addiction…
And when the calendar rolls around, again,
and still finds me here, a bit crustier and rustier,
but showing up…with heart wide open…
as I reach back and pick up the thread
of promised resolves.
With renewed determination
I stand, with brushes at the ready,
to weave those choices and colors
into something brave and bold and
gut wrenchingly beautiful…
There, that ought to do it.
Now, I think there’s one more cookie left…
Oh, yeah,
Happy New Year !!!
The Studio is alive with dancing muses…
The Teacups are dividing up into twos and threes
donning their mittens and warmest scarves
and the props have been hears whispering of yuletide mischief and cheer.
Our best and our brightest…
are wishing you and yours
a season of clear frosty nights,
with morning cups of steaming tea,
and afternoon walks amongst the snowy pines.
Be well,
stay safe,
and maybe we will catch up,
grab an elbow,
and walk a little ways
down the path with you.
Yours in hibernating brushes and winter wisps of Darjeeling,
Heather and Herself,
AND Finn !
This painting is currently featured in a new CyberShow…an online exhibition hosted by Gallery 1261 …which does exist as a brick and mortar gallery in Denver, Colorado…by day…but, as with all things worth taking a second look at…
there are many layers of mystery awarding the curious “mouse” clicker…
(click on this link to view… http://gallery1261.com/html_shows/13-small-works/neill-heather-skating-on-thin-ice-12×16-oil.htm#.Uq20EXZ3vGg )
This morning Finn and I took advantage of a warm spell and walked around the yard filling the bird feeders. I had been heeding the woodland warnings not to put out seed until the bears are hibernating. I have never, repeat never, seen a bear in my yard… but lately, I seem to be leaning into the winds of caution.
At the end of the path, just before the lilac bushes, we found this feather…
It’s about 6 inches long and the tips on the right side are dipped in a burnt sienna which the sun wants to make red. The top, which is at the bottom of this photo, is a mottled grey. I first thought of a red tailed hawk. Possibly a big owl ? But my heart wants it to be a Hawk.
Peter will know, or possibly his friend Marie, and most probably several others of you out there…so I decided to toss it to the cyber winds for some helpful answer.
It’s so beautiful, on it’s own, against the creamy ivory of my journal, and I am grateful to the muses for this gift of Advent.
It is dark now, outside the studio windows.
Inside it is still early, by this artist’s clock,
but my eyes are weary and my head is thick with days of studying, sorting and pondering. After my two months of rehab hiatus I am back at my day job and it’s time to narrow down the candidates for the coming year’s worth of paintings.
I confess to feeling some pressure about this after raising the bar with last year’s Reclamation Series. Focusing on a theme which threaded throughout a larger body of work was both challenging and creatively stimulating…so I want to play on those swings again. But where to start ?
An interesting consequence of taking the rare “vacation” from our annual fall Vineyard excursion this year, is that I don’t have thousands of “new” photos and sketches from which to leap. Thus the last few days of reviewing the many years’ worth of archived images and ideas.
I have several compositions which have been patiently awaiting their turn at the easel and keep nudging at my elbow so they get first dibs. Some of those were roughly sketched out years ago and the artist who is looking at them anew today is seeing a radically different way to bring them to the canvas. This incubation period is something I have come to trust in completely so, now, it’s all about listening.
As of the end of this day, I have a stack of sketches. The next job is to make decisions about panel sizes. I’ve got about 25 in storage and 37 new ones in mid-production which gives me plenty of options. Then I can pick one or two which are the closest to being ready to paint and get myself in front of that easel. It seems to be best to let the editing of the big list happen in the background…to percolate while I concentrate on lifting the tiny brushes.
My soul needs to be painting.
Brushes Up !
