Spring Morning, 2021, Archival Digital Print
At last! Spring! We earned it this year enduring a mean winter that even now is hanging on with its icy claws. Sleet/snow last Friday, can you imagine?
Everything is in bloom and I feel so grateful to have been guided up here to the Hudson Valley. The land has taught me. I’ve become more sensitive to the quiet and the subtle changes in light and color, the goings on of wildlife and plants.
But more than that, I have had time to reflect more deeply on what painting and drawing demand. It is remarkable what a simple piece of vine charcoal can do. Even a pencil. All the world of images ready to come out and be seen stored inside, it just waits for some talent to pick it up and begin.
Right before the Snow Starts, Archival Digital Print with Hand Coloring, 2021
That time when the clouds are full and the air smells of it
Every living thing knows that something is
about to happen,
The colors seem so full of themselves
I rush to get back to the house
The flock fed and
The house will feel
After a week of being tempted, Zachariah braves it and gets in the tub. It’s so much fun to watch these milestones by these beautiful Geese.
February Fog, 2020, Archival Digital Print
It’s been a good week of work and a nodding to the power of place.
Dinnertime, 2019, Archival Digital Print
The flock is molting now so added protein is important. Yesterday it was warm scrambled eggs with herbs, salmon, and 8-grain wheat toast. They gathered together in the communal meal, making soft happy sounds.
Nicky, the feral cat I’m hoping to tame, got eggs too. They are so plentiful now and such a perfect protein that the hens actually give back more than they get consume.
I repeat myself, but the pleasure of being part of the land in the way living here has given me is so pleasurable. I am grateful.
Adolescent Turkeys, 2019, Archival Digital Print
The first whiff of Autumn came last week. Now in spite of the high temperatures and the violent thunderstorms and drenching rains on many nights, the summer’s end nudges at us. Another sign is the young Turkeys who long ago fledged and are now long-necked and adolescent. The flock is big. Here are a few stragglers. Their sibs already crossed the road and were safely hidden in the grasses. These two had attitude and risked the on coming car.
Morning Magic, 2019, Archival Digital Print
What a strange experience to watch the Democratic Debates tonight and the flashy production of the set, more Jeopardy or a World Wide Wrestling match than the serious process of a debate for the highest office in our democracy. We have become so accustomed to visual overload that few may have noticed. It’s all part of our pinball-light-up-and-win world.
Here, though, I can bring a slow eye to what I see. This photo, another fortuitous find, was shot in the hours of early light.
Abundance, June, 2019, Archival Digital Print
Zac, Zip, Jerry, and Ruthie enjoy a pan of water, bathing and drinking. There is lavish green everywhere, all shades and variants from pale yellowish to deep blue. June is the best month. Everything on the homestead feels harmonious and lavish, generous and abundant.
I marvel at my good fortune to have found my magical spot. Earlier in the week I picked up a tiny fawn who was lying out under a tree alone. I put her back down aware that her mother would soon return for her and that I was violating Nature’s plan. But the experience was memorable and a gift to me. I took care of four motherless Robin hatchlings and they grew and fledged earlier in the week so all in all, it was a week of gifts and pleasures.
My linocut Nancy portfolio is completed as well. It was a year of work, hundreds of hours. Ten prints which I may extend to twelve these interest me so much. Then to edition them.
Bridge in the Mist, 2019, Archival Digital Print
The magic and miracle of photography, the camera, the eye into reality, never fails to intrigue me. It introduces all the questions about reality, position, place, and the documentation of time that Painting can only hint at.
As I frequently address, all photographs by their nature are in our history, situated absolutely in the past. Photography automatically arouses nostalgia that painting cannot do without seeming maudlin, cloying or merely illustrative. The photograph holds this unique place as no other art form can. I wonder why this feature is so rarely addressed.
TockTock Free Ranging in the Plant Shed, 2018, Archival Digital Print
There is reassurance in the turning of the wheel and in spite of the things that seem disruptive, each settles in and is absorbed as life continues, the sun rises and travels through the sky and sets in the west only to rise again into our eternity. Maybe not all of eternity but certainly in ours, the life of a mite relative to all time.
My new boy TickTock escaped his crate when I brought him home from a Connecticut farm and is free-ranging in the plant shed. My confidence in being able to catch any living bird has been challenged by this fast and beautiful boy. I keep telling him about the six hens who await his morning song and beautiful feathers but TickTock wants none of it. He’d rather perch and poop on my washing machine.