Love Barns!

Coming Soon........

If you like the previous post entitled "The Egg Beater," check back in for "Geese Aren't Friendly" and "The Purple Velvet Pants."

The Egg Beater

It's funny the things you do when you are a young girl. I had a great girlfriend when I was growing up who used to come over every so often to spend the day. I lived in a wonderful, warm farmhouse built in the mid 1800's. Along with the house, of course, we had several barns, a chicken coop and an outhouse. For some reason, all my mom's siblings thought that our barn was a great place to "store" their things when they were not needed, but not ready to be thrown out yet. I had an uncle that was in the middle of a separation from his girlfriend, her name was April, and I remember that only because I thought at that time how wonderfully od that name was; beautiful, but just different. My mother told him it was okay to store some trunks in the big barn for a while. Anyway, my friend and I would spend many days meandering around the farm and befriending all the animals. We had chickens, geese, pigs, rabbits, a pony, a cow (don't ask what happened to her) as well as the usual hound dogs, beagles and cats (many strangers also thought that the barns were a good place to "dump" their unwanted cats, who were, of course, always welcome!) One day, we decided to start rummaging through some old trunks and boxes of my uncle's belongings. We came across some clothes, blankets, dishes and also an od old-fashioned egg beater, you know, the kind that you just crank the handle and the two twirly metal things would spin and beat your eggs. It was a grungy old metal thing with a blue wooden handle. How fun it was to stand there holding it in one hand and cranking it with the other. Those beaters sure did get spinning fast. It was very amusing, for a minute, and then suddenly, for some strange reason, I decided to see how it would work on my friends beautiful blond locks. So, away I went. Masher to the side of the head and I started cranking that sucker until, well, you know what happened, her pretty, shiney blond hair was impossibly entangled in this vintage beater. And there she stood, beater just hanging there, looking at me with "The Look," as if to say, What the hell were you thinking? She was always such a gorgeous girl; tall, thin, beautiful face and that great shiney blond head of hair. Oooops! Oh, well, she still loves me, and to this day, I don't even remember how we got it out, but I always laugh when I see one of those old-fashioned beaters!

Warm and Sunny

My boyfriend, Mittens, loves the warm friendly sun shining through on a cold winter day, and so do I!

The Others

When I was growing up in Rensselaer County in upstate New York, traffic jams were rare. There weren't enough cars on the road for that. The road I grew up on was a quiet dirt road with wild roses and those fabulous little wild strawberries that I waited for every year. The dust would fly when the rare car passed by, but over the years "the outsiders" grew to see the beauty of my little happy peaceful world, and the road was widened, the strawberries and the wild roses dissappeared. That was just the beginning of the invasion of "other humans" into my world. Now I'm fourty-something, and the people just keep coming. There are days I feel I'll go insane if I stay here much longer. Bumper to Bumper traffic in "my home town"? Cars racing to cut me off so they can be one car length ahead. Somehow these "others" get some satisfaction in being first. I was born in early July which makes me a Cancer, and how I want to retreat into my little protective shell and escape this crazy world. Times are changing, but I just want to go back to making my little mud pies and picking the warm sweet tiny wild strawberries. I fear that will not be happening here in upstate New York, but luckily for me I have a fabulous art studio tucked away on a dead-end road with no traffic. Well, of course, there is the car that drives up right past our signs that read "Danger," "Private Property, Keep Out." I'm assuming these people are unable to read English or they just have to know "what's up there." What's up there is my husband with a huge spotlight shining down on the driver of whatever stray car finds its way up here into our paradise, our own little private piece of this world, how dare they! They usually race back down the driveway fearing the large 6'1", 230 lb man with the big spotlight and the grumpy look. And so our little piece of the pie is quiet again, for now. But what is "quiet"? That's relative as I discovered in a recent trip to Nebraska, perhaps my "new paradise." I'll tell you more about that next time.

A Simpler Time

Aahhh......Solitude

A New Start

Is that it? Did I do it? Me? I actually used technology without any help from my teenage daughters and created a blog page? Wow, it must be time for new beginnings! Here we are, another cold and snowy day in upstate New York, just waiting for Spring. Well, Spring will be here before we know it, so why not take a closer look at the beauty surrounding us today. I could not help but notice last week during an evening snow how beautiful the gentle snowed appeared when it hit my driveway and yard. It looked like a blanket woven from cotten and crystals. I took several minutes on the way from my studio to the house and stood there and absorbed the beauty in a fresh fallen snow as the gentle light from the house inspired the snowflakes to sparkle. There is a certain calm in a gentle snow storm. Fortunate I am to live nestled up in the woods on a deadend road without a house in site. During winter months, I get a glimpse of my neighbor's red barn from time to time, and I can just hear the horses and dogs enough to confirm I actually have neighbors. So, today I will head over to the studio, feed the birds, and start a new painting day. My next show is the Northeast Flower and Garden show at HVCC, and I am so excited to paint all things "garden." A new start with the creation of vibrant colored paintings, pinks, turquoises, yellows and greens, a new body of "happy paintings." So off I go, another day as the Artist in Wonderland, or Shelly Land as some people call it!