By Carrie Jacobson

It seems to me that there was more fog when I was growing up. Sure there was, figuratively – but I mean really and truly in the weather sense of things.

Maybe that’s just my admittedly foggy memory – but now, it seems there’s fog only on rare autumn mornings, when the fog is over the rivers, the night’s cool dreams meeting the morning’s promise of heat.

When I was a kid, we had whole days of fog. Whole weeks, it seems, even. The fog would roll in off the water and blanket the area, and it was a regular thing, as regular as sunny mornings or rainy ones.

I remember living in Idaho and longing for the fog. Longing for days of rain, too. Longing for those gray New England stretches that of course, as a kid, I couldn’t stand. Spend a year in a place where it’s always sunny, and you’d be surprised what weather you’d yearn for.

At any rate, I had a great time making this painting. I feel like I’ve been freed – and I didn’t even know I was locked up.

Interested in this painting? It is oil on canvas, 36×48. Please contact me for price and delivery information: carrieBjacobson@gmail.com

Tags: Carrie Jacobson, fog, oil painting

This entry was posted on Friday, April 1st, 2011 at 3:37 pm and is filed under Carrie Jacobson. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.