Two of the paintings in my Washington National Cathedral series will be on exhibit in the Artists of Woodley Park show opening October 17, 2019. I’m looking forward to seeing work of the more than 20 Woodley Park artists included, and I hope some of you might make your way there this fall.
Stanford in Washington Gallery
2655 Connecticut Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20008
From December to March, there are for many of us three gardens —
the garden outdoors,
the garden of pots and bowls in the house,
and the garden of the mind’s eye.
—Katherine S. White
Melissa
Chuck
Well, it’s sleeting, and snow is on the way. But it IS the first day of spring. So, a poem by Robert Lax, and a painting.
Over the back of the Florida basker,
over the froth of the Firth of Forth,
Up from Tahiti and Madagascar,
Lo, the sun walks north.
The first bright day makes sing the slackers
While leaves explode like firecrackers,
The duck flies forth to greet the spring
And sweetly municipal pigeons sing.
Where the duck quacks, where the bird sings,
We will speak of past things.
Come out with your marbles, come out with your Croup,
The grass is as green as a Girl Scout troop;
In the Mall the stone acoustics stand
Like a listening ear for the Goldman band.
At an outside table, where the sun’s bright glare is,
We will speak of darkened Paris.
Meanwhile, like attendants who hasten the hoofs
Of the ponies who trot in the shadow of roofs,
The sun, in his running, will hasten the plan
Of plants and fishes, beast and man.
We’ll turn our eyes to the sogging ground
And guess if the earth is cracked or round.
Over the plans of the parties at strife,
Over the planes in the waiting north,
Over the average man and his wife,
Lo, the sun walks forth!
—Robert Lax
Lynn & Donald 1976
Ils ont été plus sages que les Américains.
Darcy
Celeste
Uncle Mike
Maurice Sendak
I am experimenting with the eBay auction as a venue for my paintings, and I am beginning with “Cherry Blossoms,” a seasonally appropriate work. It begins tonight and ends April 2nd. (You can find it here.) And with this painting I include my favorite cherry blossom poem, from A. E. Housman’s A Shropshire Lad.
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
–A.E. Housman
For the first day of spring, a poem by Linda Pastan, and a painting.
Spring
Just as we lose hope
she ambles in,
a late guest
dragging her hem
of wildflowers,
her torn
veil of mist,
of light rain,
blowing
her dandelion
breath
in our ears;
and we forgive her,
turning from
chilly winter
ways,
we throw off
our faithful
sweaters
and open
our arms.
—Linda Pastan
Lynn & Donald
A painting and a poem for this Day of Love. As the poet says, Wake it every day… Happy Valentines Day, everyone.
Assume it’s in the kitchen,
under the couch, high
in the pine tree out back,
behind the paint cans
in the garage. Don’t try
proving your love
is bigger than the Grand
Canyon, the Milky Way,
the urban sprawl of L.A.
Take it for granted. Take it
out with the garbage. Bring
it in with the takeout. Take
it for a walk with the dog.
Wake it every day, say,
“Good morning.” Then
make the coffee. Warm
the cups. Don’t expect much
of the day. Be glad when
you make it back to bed.
Be glad he threw out that
box of old hats. Be glad
she leaves her shoes
in the hall. Snow will
come. Spring will show up.
Summer will be humid.
The leaves will fall
in the fall. That’s more
than you need. We can
love anybody, even
everybody. But you
can love the silence,
sighing and saying to
yourself, “That’s her.”
“That’s him.” Then to
each other, “I know!
Let’s go out for breakfast!”
—Jack Ridl
Jack
Wishing everyone a joyous, loving, and peaceful season. And, in that spirit, here is a poem by Tennyson for Christmas Day.
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, Ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, Ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of Rich and poor,
Ring in Redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, Ring out my mournful Rhymes,
But Ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and Right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkenss of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Ann
Stephanie
Noah
Tony
Nevin
For those who do not want to be surprised on the first of each month, here are the twelve paintings featured on the 2017 calendar shown in my post yesterday.
Aunt Marge
Patricia
John Fitzgerald Kennedy
Here is one of two new calendars for 2017 (the second, quite different, calendar to be posted soon). In this one each month features one of my seasonal still-lifes.
The calendar is 8-1/2” x 11” and printed on sturdy satin stock, substantial enough so the images can be saved as prints.
A single calendar is $23; a set of two is $42. Shipping is 3-day Priority Mail, domestic US.
If you are in my area, you can obtain a calendar from me directly without shipping—just let me know.
Unless you prefer to be surprised, you can look at tomorrow’s post to see the twelve still-lifes featured within.
Single calendar:
Set of 2 calendars:
