Broken Art Studio

Boo is the Dad and a really good one. He loves his children.

Thanks to a new litter of kittens underfoot and my already limited space, I have moved my studio to the old stone cellar. I believe because I will no longer have to worry about cleaning the kitchen table for dinner or worry about the cats getting into a freshly painted canvas, my output should increase. Thank you Izzy and Boo for your children, especially this one, the little runt, you have all motivated me to create.

           Curiosity or Truly Sadness?….

I was on my way home from work the other day and as usual I’m in the habit of taking a less traveled route home if one is available. Living where there is still plenty of country back roads, it’s not difficult to find a scenic or quiet road where nature is abundant and varied. On this particular road there are swampy overgrown areas with cattails and wild flowers right up to the edge of the blacktop. Normally a perfect habitat for small birds and in particular yellow goldfinch. As I was driving very slow observing the landscape I noticed a small yellow bird in the middle of the road. He just stood there and I had to slow down to a crawl in order not to hit him. I assumed it would fly away as I got close. It was obvious he wasn’t going to move. As I got even closer I noticed another object in the road. It was another goldfinch that had been run over. Sadly it was almost unrecognizable except for a few bright yellow feathers. I was truly touched by what I witnessed and felt I needed to share the thought that although we as humans feel we are the only creatures who feel pain, I wonder if that is accurate.              

   After this moment, I don’t think so.

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Life no matter what size

the creature

 Is fragile

 Left behind to ponder, A small yellow bird lonely by it’s mate lying dead on the road

Curiosity or Sadness? 

Edging closer, it’s small delicate head sideways glancing

 left and right pecking at the feathers to answer for itself….

Am I alone

I frightened it, but only briefly

Finding a branch to perch, it cried a moving sound of loss

Still without flight for leaving would mean loneliness

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Are we alone in our feelings of sadness at death?

This was very early and naive attempt to create a painting like the masters of the Hudson River School. The truth being that unless I win the lottery, I would never own a real Hudson River painting. I thought I would make my own. Having grown up and lived along the Hudson at various times of my life, I used images from my memory and imagination to chose a viewpoint that I thought would capture the valley’s beauty. It reminds me of the Bear Mountain and Storm King Mountain area. I was in over my head attempting this but I had fun and I went forward and now I own a “real” Hudson River painting.

Day One…Although the main reason for this is to have a place for my creative ideas to be shared, it will also be a place to keep in touch with those of you who have something to say. Actually it is all an experiment. I have no idea what will happen. That appeals to me.