Showing posts with label dc blizzard of 2010. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dc blizzard of 2010. Show all posts

Monday, February 7, 2011

February Success part 3

Well, Astrologyzone says that February is a good month in general. Maybe that's it. I can take credit for producing some pretty solid artwork, and for being open to people seeing and purchasing it. But I can't make a bunch of stuff like this happen all in one week!!!

Saturday a VCCA friend and collector was in town. She asked to visit my studio, so I picked her up at her hotel and drove her out to my Kensington warehouse. We spent hours there - she is deep, thoughtful, and unusually responsive to my work. Every artists dream.... And after much thought she decided on two recent encaustic paintings to purchase. Ironically they were the two that made a trio with the one larger one purchased at the donor party. Something special must be there in those marshes. Hmmm.

To finish with this story - Monday morning Aaron Leibel from the Washington Jewish Week called to confirm my city of residence, to include my name in a byline about the Kraft Center show. He wants to write about me as soon as I have another local show.
And last Sunday I delivered some older Costa Rican collages to a family friend who expressed interest - left a few there so they could ponder and choose. Wednesday - I expect another sale or two. I am knocking on wood. It feels like blessings all around.

This morning our buddy Judi Weinstock wrote to tell me that from now til June is a great time for those of us born under the sign of Aries. Wow.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Snow


Snow is everywhere. There is a beautiful pattern of white ice blobs on the screen. Behind that are huge hanging icicles. Beyond that, white lined tree limbs. It is possible to move back and forth between concerns about neighbors, food, electricity, email, and general anxiety and fear about this storm's effects - and the artist part of my vision that sees pattern, feels the ethereal quality of so much lacy whiteness, hears the whistle of the wind as a mysterious tone. I don't want to look down at the street. But I do. There is a man walking. And I hear voices of children. I am thankful to be able to see in so many ways.