After the Storm on Brainstorm Road

We are in for a few days of warm weather, but I decided to post a painting of last winter of the road I live on here in Vermont, after a big snowstorm. The light was crystal clear and the snows sparkled with points of brilliant light against blue shadows that reflected the very blue sky of that day. I have advertised this painting in the Woodstock Magazine and have also advertised in American Art Review another painting of old Herreshoff racing yachts of the turn of the century, "The Start". It's part of my plan to try to be a gallery for my paintings from here at my home/studio on Brainstorm Rd. We are looking at another winter with shutdowns. They could be worse than last winter. The studio and house will be open by appointment or chance. Folks are welcomed if they wear masks and are careful.

Mike moved the cows to the pasture right behind my house, so this morning they were up by the fence with the marsh part of the pond down below, and the north pasture rising up behind them. The sun was casting long shadows and the mist hung gently. Snow still covers some of my backyard, but most of the pasture only has a few patches of snow left. In such a short time, the shadows shortened and the mist is burned off, particularly today as it is suppose to be in the sixties! Tabitha is out the door, and even walking on the snow. She definitely has had cabin fever. I am sad that the cows will be leaving in a couple of days. It's time for them to either be sold or go back to a barn for the winter. I will probably open the house back up for the next few days while it is warmer. I will let the wood stove go out too and give my hands a much needed break...already. This has me worried some. If you know someone who would like to home share, I am open to it. They need to be willing to take care of the wood stoves and the wood. No smokers and drinkers please. A tidy person also woud be appreciated.

After talking to others about my worn out body parts, I'm learning this is very common lol! and often for people far younger than me. Fortunately, my hips and knees still work. A bit of neuropathy left over from Lyme disease in my feet, is all that bothers me. I've learned to manage it ok. My hands are a bit delicate also probably left over from Lyme. If I handle too much wood, I could make my thumb do that trigger thing again. That I can't let happen, as I cant paint until it heals. So I'm careful. Things could be worse! I wish my memory was better or that I had the mental capacity to focus in on technological problems. Those things drive me bonkers, making my guts twist up in inpatient exasperation! But this is the way of the future! It's not just the future, IT IS NOW!! So like it or not, I have to adjust or be left behind.

One way or another, our country will move through this period. A friend just called and said in her county, the Trump/Pence signs are mostly taken down. Most people are NOT interested in a fight. We just want peace. People are just trying to survive. So my advice to the world for what it's worth, is, the same as always. Fear drives hatred and division. Perfect love casteth out fear. We are not each other's enemy. Not at all.

The Gallery

I am ticking off the list of ambitions for this old farm in central Vermont. The studio barn is coming into its own in a big way. When I first got the studio built in the barn loft, I knew I had to get to work immediately to build up an inventory of paintings. I had been sick for a number of years with Lyme and painting was partially on the back shelf, while I restored my health. When I arrived in Vermont, I took a big chance on this old house and farm, and thought I will push ahead instead of going small. I went big. And now it is paying off. I found that Vermont inspired me anew to paint new and different things. And as these paintings came to me, I grew in strength. I am grateful and inspired by other artists also on the FB forum. It has stimulated me to look at their work and efforts and to also share mine. I give a lot of credit to the other artists, who also share fearlessly and are out there working with passion and sound abilities. I'm finding my remote location is not a hindrence but a foundation for beauty and art. It's an effort to move paintings around, but for the process of the art itself, it is most important for this artist.

Yesterday Christa and I hung paintings. It was quite an effort, and I wondered if I was going to get it done. I couldn't seem to find the right location and combination of paintings and designs for the walls to satisfy me. But after a couple of hours of getting wires on frames that were missing, rearranging paintings on the floor by this wall or that, it all snapped together quickly and it only took about an hour to complete. Most of my paintings are large. So the physical effort of getting them down from the studio space and up on the walls was no small thing for two relatively small women. I'm very pleased to now be able to have more floor space in the studio itself, where there are still more paintings that need to get hung, and so everything is not just stacked nilly willy here and there. My standards are impossibly high now. The feel of a painting must hit the mark. I find myself working over some paintings while others are solid out the gate. So paintings must sometimes sit against the wall, until one's vision clears about where to go next with it. Sometimes they simply don't make it. There is nothing like a new painting though! One is full of hope and determination to see how it will turn out. And while you are involved, you can sometimes forget to enjoy the process. I do love the different ways in which paintings develop. Some are noodled into exquisteness while others are built with big timber beams of understanding. The expression meets the viewer where they are. I believe if a painting resonates with me on an honest level, it will for the viewer too and will find a home, sooner or later. Sometimes a painting is out the door in a few months and others linger for years.