Winter is Waning

maybe not fast enough? It's not over yet but the end is in sight.

I’m writing this on Ash Wednesday, Daylight Savings begins only seventeen days from now and the snow banks are dwindling fast. I’m thinking I need to savor the last days of winter.

This is definitely a winter palette; if I saw these colors in the window of a clothing store I wouldn’t go in. But isn’t this beautiful?

The other evening as I walked Russell the sky was overcast and gray and misty— like a Whistler nocturne. I tried to capture that feeling but it came our completely different.

Pretty but not at all what it actually felt like. What’s wrong with my camera?

The next morning I could barely see New Jersey for the mist.

I met this week with a group of friends to discuss our response to what’s happening in our country. Our moderator asked how we’re all coping and I realized that one thing keeping me on an even keel is getting outside and walking first thing in the morning.

So, Thank You, Russell.

However, you are still not allowed to eat my socks.

…

Last week I wrote about Robert Henri, leader of the Eight, or the Ashcan School, the Urban Realists, who painted ordinary people in every day circumstances and gritty urban scenes.

I love the way he uses reds in the cheeks.

This is a timely scene. See any ashcans?

His pronunciation tickles me; Hen rye. I thought he, as leader of the artists who brought painting into the streets, was thumbing his nose at the French, but no. He was born Robert Henry Cozad in 1865. In 1882 his father shot a man in a dispute over land and the family got out of town and changed their names. You can read all about him on Wikipedia; I’m not writing a history just sharing stuff I love. Henri taught at the Art Students League From 1915 to 1927; his students included included George Bellows, Stuart Davis, Edward Hopper, Rockwell Kent, John Sloan. His musings and letters were collected into The Art Spirit, which is still in print.

The Art Spirit is not a book to read straight through— open it randomly and see what you find, like this:

“I have little interest in teaching you what I know. I wish to stimulate you to tell you what you know. In my office to you I am simply trying to improve my own environment.”

and…

“A work of art which inspires us comes from no quibbling or uncertain man. It is the manifestation of a very positive nature in great enjoyment.”

…

Wednesday night it rained and the dirty piles are diminishing swiftly. The little park we stroll through every morning is open again…

The red balloon stuck in the tree reminds me of the moment I first contemplated eternity. When I was not yet five I let go of my red balloon and as I watched it fly over the roof tops I thought, “It will keep on flying forever and ever into space and it will never come down.”

…

And what’s on my drawing table? I came across this bit of graffiti and thought, Thank You! That’s just what I’ve needed.

Slow is Not Stuck! @ cosy

Yes, my new drawing is progressing slowly. I’ll add a section in pencil and live with it for a few days, then ink it in and then maybe add a little watercolor.

I think the big tree is a little Dr. Seuss-y which I like and the new little tree is an improvement. I’ll get further on before I decide on what color for Mary’s outfit.

As Casey Stengel said about the Amazon’ Mets, we’re coming along slow but fast and I’m having a good time.