At LAST! A gentle blue sky, hovers over tiny green apples, bending branches to canopy a verdant carpet,  requiring  no footwear. The shadows shorten, the days lengthen, sun tea mysteriously brews on bistro tables across the county. Love, or at least genetic potential, seeks a private moment to begin again. AHHHH! On a day such as this, all things are possible, our fears are driven into submission,  and an overwhelming sense that trouble  has just caught the last bus out of town.

They say ” Every day we begin again”. Every seven years our cells are entirely replaced, the anniversary of our births are celebrated annually, and the bills arrive once a month. But, what about the more esoteric cycles? Do we create on a schedule, does the Muse rest or vacation, or or take a deep breath and hold it waiting, waiting for us to act? Does the Muse email our inspiration, text or skype ? Maybe the occasional robocall?  In the age of communication does anyone really listen? Maybe it’s hammock time that we require, some simple harmonic motion, a breeze cut from a bolt of cosmic satin and empty ears.

It has come to my attention, that the world is coming to an end. This is not an entirely unpleasant option given the state of things, our lack of compassion, humor, violent nature and ability to text while hurtling down the freeway. Rumor has it, that some of us will be saved, I’m a little sketchy on the details and probably will not make the wait list.

In the absence of real information on this topic I have decided to continue upon  my original course, original sin and all, and just keep painting. Who knows, maybe I am so obscure that even the rapture will overlook me! Something to be said for being a complete unknown. Maybe if I continue to toil here, in the “up a crooked staircase studio” the worst thing I will encounter is a low supply of cadmium yellow, cold coffee and a pack of demanding cats. One can only hope!

For those of you who watch the History channel, the end of the world is still billions of years off, and for the rest of you  go if you must, we wish you well. We will miss having some one to disagree with but we understand completely!

Somewhere behind my eyes, nestled deep in the recesses of my brain I have a faint memory. Like a fingerprint, left on the inside of my skull, a faint, hazy memory of a warm breeze. By warm, I mean above 45 degrees , the sort of breeze that is tinged with the scent of damp ,cool earth, of blue green and soft gray, maybe even yellow green.  The clear, bright diamond light, the sort of light that cures, awakens frozen bulbs as if from a coma, that pierces my retinas and makes my limbic brain shiver. Not a chilled  shiver but but an uncoiling, as every cell expands to greet this stranger, this lost love, this moment when Spring takes the last flight home, silently unpacks and kisses your sleeping cheek.

The days are just a sliver longer, and the western light streams through the bare trees that frame the view in the  “Up a crooked staircase studio”.  Joni Mitchell fills the air and the empty canvases lounge in the corners, wispering, as if I wouldn’t notice , wispering ” Are we there yet?”

Well Folks, tis the season to be woolly! If I were wearing any more sheep based products I could be granted honorary citizenship in New Zealand .  However, up the crooked staircase it’s nice and toasty due to baseboard heat and my budget billing plan with the utility guys. The cats are very happy with this arrangement and the additional cost will be deducted from their allowances.

The show at Greenwich House was well attended and a few sales were made. I have added abstract florals to my repertoire  and am enjoying deconstructing this all too familiar subject. To state the obvious in a less than obvious way is always the goal, providing one can actually see beyond those stratified layers of wool!

Cozmo, lord of the studio cats, wishes each of you a holiday season filled with, light, gratitude, cat nip and peaceful dreams. Give what you can, share what you have, and make somebody laugh.

CHEERS!

The months have flown since my last post, and the much awaited Summer has been a productive one.  The up a crooked staircase studio is stacked with new work, and is nearly  as paint spattered as my work apron.  I am currently painting for a two person at the Greenwich House Gallery in Cincinnati which will open  October 22,2010 and feature my abstract work.  Check out www.greenwichhousegallery.com for more information. My work is also available in print form from FineArtAmerica.com, it’s a fun site to visit and offers works from around the world.

In July I had the pleasure of visiting New York and spent the day at MOMA, a remarkable feast of genius ! What could be more inspiring than a day spent communing with the worlds great modern works!

After months of  what can certainly qualify as an ‘epic” Winter, so aptly described by Russian authors and polar explorers the fresh light of Spring has arrived. Not a moment too soon, for a painter who is ready to pack away the woolen layers and bask in the sunlight.

My tiny, up a crooked staircase studio, must be cleared of cats, stacks of reference photos , rolls of canvas, tubes of paint who have given up due to neglect and loneliness and last but not least a large clock who has lost the will to keep time. With these adjustments accomplished I will soon be painting like the fool I am. Check back for new work!