It wasn't too long ago that we were all preoccupied with the coming of spring - was it going to come in like a lion or a lamb. We all know that our lives can change dramatically in an instant. But when you look around expecting Mother Nature to feel your pain or to at least sympathize, the sun continues to rise and set, dogs bark and cats howl, and the birdies keep tweeting. The joy and hilarity of the wild kingdom flirting with itself moves ahead on schedule - albeit a little early these days.
We do not get off the hook for what we've done to this defenseless planet. When the pandemic has run its course, maybe we will finally realize and remember what it is like to be vulnerable and helpless against the most powerful force.
The Birdies Keep Tweeting • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250
One of the great things about surviving in Maine is, well, that you can survive in Maine. Serenity is an inside job, but unless you're a guru, we all need inspiration. Sometimes jump starting is simply taking time for a lookabout. There's a lot of serenity in just looking at big wide empty spaces.
What foresight our past leaders had to preserve vast empty areas in this country. These spaces are a gift, a slice in time outside of progress and a break from our busy bossy brains. They're an opportunity to reset, reboot and go blank so that we can better connect with ourselves, our bodies, and when we return to commerce, our fellow human beings.
The Serenity In Just Looking • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $250
I must preface this by stating that Gus is very well fed and cared for by his parents. But like the rest of us, he knows a sucker when he sees one.
It started the day Gus took a cruise down the street and stopped at a new person in the neighborhood's house meowing that pitiful, anguished and well rehearsed meow of his. The stranger let him in and posted a lost cat notice on Facebook. Over 10 people who had Gus' MO, answered acknowledging the rascal with adjectives like mooch, scoundrel, and user. The only one who didn't see the post and thought Gus was really lost and starving was Drew, who gave him a can of cat food and some shelter from the elements.
So now and just about every day, Gus makes a beeline for Drew's house, a quarter of mile down the street, where he spends the day. He's fed and settles in for a nice long nap. When Gus indicates he is ready, Drew scoops him into his arms and drives back down the street to Gus' dooryard where he is dropped off for the night.
Once in a while the little mooch will sneak back over to our house after Drew drops him off and try to cop a handful of Smartfood from Tom. Usually successful, he'll clean himself, curl into a ball and disappear into a warm spot on the rug in front of our stove in the living room. He melts into that rug like butter melts into a piece of warm toast.
When it's time for us to head upstairs for the night, Tom puts on his jacket and boots, scoops the beast up into his arms and carries him back across the road to his own home for the night. The following morning, the whole sucker routine starts all over again, like clockwork.
When The Cat Melts Into The Rug • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $250
I've been doing a lot of wondering these days. There is a lot of stuff to wonder about out there, but if you really want to take a break from everything out there, you need to narrow everything down to wondering about something like, well...wonder!
What is wonder?
Where does wonder come from?
Why do we wonder?
What does wondering do to us?
What does wondering do for us?
Can we wonder upon a star or just wish?
Is wonderful the end result of wondering about wonders?
This exercise could fall under the category of meditation I think, because in the end
you still have no idea what it all means, nor do you care.
Oh, To Just Sit And Wonder • 9" x 9" acrylic • $250
Every year on Valentine's Day morning, folks in the city of Portland wake up to a trail of red hearts printed on 8.5 X 11 copy paper. They wind through the city, taped to shop doors and windows like a Love dragon putting us on pause for a moment to smile. I attribute this magical mystery tour to the Love Bandit - a mythical figure who, under cover of darkness, flits under awnings and over rooftops, through darkened streets and back alleyways, spreading simple red hearts and whatever message we want to attach to them.
I think there's something very special about what I will assume is an act of Love. For me it's a reminder that when we all come to the end of this grand experiment we call life on planet Earth, there's a good chance we'll be judging ourselves, if we have half a conscience, by how well we did Love. So thanks Love Bandit - whoever you are. I hope the Universal Truth that "what goes around comes around" is your most just reward!
The Love Bandit • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X12" • $250
I was going to paint snowflakes because...well... it's snowing right now. They're everywhere - I'm totally surrounded. But for some reason, rather than snowflakes, I saw sailboats. Why this happens, I do not know. Is it because I have to work and can't ski? Is it because I would rather be sailing? Or is it because my brain short circuits now and again and simply confuses snowflakes with sailboats?
Confusing Snowflakes With Sailboats • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $250
It's a beautiful end-of-the-day summer afternoon. I slowly climb back up the hill to the house after a long day in the garden, looking for some cool shade and the solace and comfort of my favorite rocking chair on the front porch.
As I round the corner, I stop short. Rats! There's a cat spread out in my rocking chair! It's our neighbor, Gus. He beat me to it again. I have a love/hate relationship with Gus. He poops in my flower beds, but is one hell of a mouser.
Bug off Gus, I say, stepping up to confront him!
I got here first, he replies, yawning and looking up briefly from that nice thick cushion with his big emotionless but gorgeous yellow eyes.
C'mon Gus, I'm tired. I just want to sit in my rocking chair for a bit - get a load off, you know?
He slowly puts his head down on his paws, closes his eyes and purrs softly in to his nap, claws locked in place. It's been a tough day, he sighs.
Damn! How does this happen, I ask shaking my head as I ease this tired old body down on a hard porch step.
It's winter now and Gus' rocking chair was put away in the shed last fall. I don't have to deal with the insufferable little beast until spring. But I gotta say, I think I actually miss loosing out to the old rascal.
Gus' Rocking Chair • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250
It was a beautiful summer day on Vinalhaven. We were stretching our sea legs one afternoon, when some laundry lightly lifting and settling on a line caught my eye and ferried it over a scene people pay thousands of dollars to see in person. It was simply ordinary household stuff hanging out to dry in front of an old white house with an old gray fence set in an almost all wild flower garden with a lawn that could use a mowing.
It's what made Martha Stewart rich and famous. She took what we already had - but had taken for granted, remembered it in some expensive-looking-reminder-of-the-good-old-days packaging, and sold it back to us for an enormous amount of money, convincing us it was a brand new idea.
It's Just Laundry On The Line • 8"x8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250
Carrabassett Valley is one of the most beautiful places you’ll ever meander through. Fall gets top billing when it’s lit up like a foliage cinema set only a higher power can imagine.But winter is when the valley really shines, literally, with ice a snow, and the cool steel blue of the mountains is the prevailing state of mind. Winter is the season reserved for wild things and those who live here year round, those who venture out to elevate their standing with the elements, always to be humbled.
When the weather has turned just this side of brutal, I'm reminded of those pioneers who took the challenge way before a lot of us were even born. This sketch, sans telephone poles, is for them - the firsts who dared make the trek before skis had edges, pataguchi made quick-dry, and ski lifts turned all of us soft. For the Firsts • 9" x 10.5" acrylic unframed • $250
There's a horse farm on Route 27 just outside the village of Belgrade Lakes. It was sold off to some folks who had a few horses too. But then they posted a political sign that utterly destroyed the concept of a little piece of heaven. They're gone, unfortunately their vote is not, and a forlorn looking sale sign is what now describes the property. It's been that way for a few years.
I will immortalize those classic white outbuildings before they become some ugly else. God - I hope someone saves it. There's something about horses in a field that gets to me. They're such beautiful, peaceful creatures.
Those Peaceful Creatures of Belgrade Lakes • Acrylic • $250