It's a lovely day in Vermont with the sun shining in the south windows. No need for a fire in the woodstove. The temperature is troubling... quite warm... all traces of our first snow have vanished even in the shadows. The ice in our little puddle/pond garden is a transparent black skiff floating away from the rock edges. As global warming begins to affect the economy skeptics are beginning to take note. Too warm for snow, no skiers, no tourists... not good for Vermont in the winter.

Here is a new painting that I began recently. It is far from finished. It's a bobolink's nest, a bird which nests in nearby meadows, and all over the eastern half of the northern hemisphere. They weave long tendrils of grass into beautiful little bowls on the ground in early spring . I always worry whether the young have fledged at haying time. The eggs are warm burnt sienna with speckled blotches in burnt umber.

The mountains in the painting seem to be the Greens, but they look a lot like the Sangre de Cristos in the moon light. By the time I'm done with the image, their origin will be clear.
Maybe.
Maybe not. It doesn't really matter.

I was out walking in the night a few months back and saw irridescent clouds gathered around the full moon. Thin but shapely forms with luminous purple, pink, blue and greenish colors.The warmth and brilliance of the color surprised me. The full moon is always such an overwhelming and beautiful presence in the night. It exudes energy.
I'm working on that sense of presence and energy

For a long time I deliberately made art that was about difficult issues... nuclear holocaust; the environment; politics;  personal angst... It seemed an indulgence to make something beautiful or entertaining. I'm not making political art these days, but sometimes those concerns which are so deeply rooted in my heart emerge anyway. The answers are less clear... the issues are more complex.
My goal now is to make something beautiful and communicate inter-connectedness.
Global interconnectedess. Grace. Respect.

The painting (working title is Mountain Nest) is fairly large. 72" x 36". It's very satisfying to make something somewhat large that speaks emphatically of grace and mystery.
Serenity.
A difficult state of mind to achieve during the holiday season.
In this difficult time.
On this troubled planet.

I'm so sleep deprived I sent out an invitation to people for an opening on December 24rth!!! (it's on the 17th)
I just checked the calendar for a Sunday date... How pathetic! I suppose it would be even more pathetic to try to hold the opening on the 24rth!