How, on this first day of spring,
I would love to be there again…
a step or two behind on the path
just out of earshot,
though I suspect there were few words to overhear,
and light years away from their memories…
but there, at least, to offer a wing, and a grin,
and to listen to these two old crones
telling their tales
to the sea.
Ted and Pete,
Against the odds,
they both weathered this winter
but neither is here today to welcome the spring.
Or, maybe I’m wrong about that.
Think I’ll grab my hat
and my stick
and strut the old pegs
and see what they have left along the trail
to brighten my sad eyes.
OK that’s a bit lofty (and probably influenced by the book I am listening to about the French resistance), but I have reached my limit…
My webmaster called it a “brute force attack”, something to do with blacklists and hackers, alls I know is that for the last year I have been flooded with bogus blog comments.
Seriously, daily dozens of ridiculously worded ersatz appreciations of everything from content to spelling of blog related matter in an effort to get me to “Approve” them and allow entry to the inner sanctum.
And today…
I have pulled the plug on those brutes.
If I unchecked the correct button, comments will no longer be allowed on my blog.
Not really a big deal except for the handful of loyal readers, you KNOW who you are, and the two or three others who occasionally wish to be heard on a given matter.
This shouldn’t affect any of you who look and lurk and generally like what you see here, and it won’t apply to all the facebook readers, but it hopefully will free up my emailbox for the countless other legitimate spam which tries to lodge there for my considered approval.
Meanwhile, life and creativity and many happy hours of painting continue on here in the studio. I’m working on a special commission which allows me to bring some blue skies and bright light into the last of these winter days. No sneak peaks since it is surprise !
But there is a whole lot of new work burgeoning on the spring horizon and the hint of an exciting new show to announce soon. Stay tuned and stay frosty out there…and…all you attackers…
keep your comments to yourself !
I feel better already.
Above painting, with flags at the ready, is Trinity and is currently waving it’s tri-colours over the hills of Santa Fe, at the Sugarman Peterson Gallery.
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.
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…”
The thread of our friendship has been weaving itself for nigh on to three decades now, and lately I believe my little studio wren has one end and his beloved cedar waxwings up north have hold of the other…drawing us ever closer… in spirit if not in miles.
After a hearty breakfast of sausage and French toast, Herself and Finn have left the building to give me some of that concentrated painting time that has been my bliss this winter. But a quick look at this morning’s missive by Himself encourages a quicker note here…passed along for your pleasure.
We have been lobbing these musings back and forth via the blogosphere but I sure would prefer to pull up one of those fancy pants chairs he carves next to his window and spend the day carving a spoon alongside the master and listening to Rose and Daniel telling stories about squirrels and pirates in the background.
Here’s the link to read how he is spending his creative snow day…
Bucket List, Available at Sugarman Peterson Gallery in Santa Fe, NM
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,
These longest nights of the year are magical
and on this eve of Christmas day
as I finish up a little bit of ribbon tying
and warm up this second cup of tea…
I’m thinking of you.
Wishing you laughter
and peace
and above all…
light.
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,
ANDFinn !
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.
