Charlotte

By Carrie Jacobson

The Berkshires Arts Festival show, in Great Barrington, MA, was a total financial bust for me. Over three loooong days of the show, not one painting sold. Not One. Ouch.

But I met some delightful people, including jeweler Cynthia Battista, who makes fascinating pieces in different kinds of metal and stone (click here to check out her work at OldstoneStudio.net); printmaker Leslie Peebles, who makes fantastical prints of nature and animals (click here to check out lesliepeebles.com); and James Takaki, who makes metal garden ornaments in his Iron Arts studio in Vermont (click here to check out Ironartstudio.com). Click here for a video of James talking about what he did with a big bag of money he earned at a show in Montana.

And I got some insights, too. James thinks that shows like this one, outside of urban centers, are just on the skids. Cynthia characterized the (very few) people who came to this show as “Martha Stewart” types, who are clearly not looking for my rough, vivid paintings or her unique, strong pieces. Peter says it’s his theory that, at least in New England, the farther the show is from the coast, the less chance I have of selling.

I don’t have theories yet. I am listening, and watching, and thinking. Do you have a theory? I’d love to hear it!

Jojo

By Carrie Jacobson

Usually, I use a lot of paint. But there are times when I use almost none at all. I like both outcomes.

It’s the same in life, I think. And I guess the trick is learning when to go for heavy and when to go for light.

I don’t think the answer is easy or clear-cut. But I do think that if I listen hard, and go with what I’m feeling, I’ll make the right choice.

I quit my day job this week. Well, gave notice.

Yes, in a horrible economy, with not much light showing at the end of the tunnel, I am walking away from a paying job… so that I can make art for a living.

My husband and I made this decision easily, in December, and have hemmed and hawed ever since, saying we’d stay here until the house sells, until the path is clear, until we know what the outcome will be.

I don’t think we can know it until we commit ourselves to a choice.

So. Lots of paint? Not much? Jojo looks pretty good either way.

Think good thoughts for me.

Clinton Marsh

By Carrie Jacobson
Winter is taking its time getting here, and that is OK with me. I find I am loving the muted, color-drained landscapes, pewter instead of chrome, maroon instead of crimson, bronze instead of shining gold. There’s something calming and reassuring in it for me, and it’s pushing me in new directions with my paintings.

Also, former hippie that I am, I find a peculiar delight in a certain sensory confusion that befalls me in spring and in these sorts of falls. I will be walking or driving along, and, especially if the air is sweet and damp and there’s a crisp breeze, I have trouble recognizing the season. Is it March? Is it November? I stumble into these confusions and why I enjoy them, I can’t say, but I do.

I hope you all have blessed Thanksgivings, filled with love and family and the joys of the season.

Dawn on the Marsh, Essex, MA

By Carrie Jacobson

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”

So said Albert Schweitzer, and so say I.

I am still mourning my dear Kaja, but I had a show to do last weekend, and grief or not, I was committed. My heart was not in it, but I loaded the van, and I drove to Wickford, RI, and in the blazing heat and humidity, set up the tent, set up the display, and, on Saturday, waited for the show to open.

The sun beat down, the humidity closed in, and the people came. They came, and they talked, and they admired and they shared their stories with me. Shared their lives with me. Told me about the dogs they had loved, about losing their own parents, about worrying about their children, and seeking inspiration in lives that seemed to be going flat.

They shared their hearts with me, these strangers, and they brought me back again. They lighted that inner flame again.

Thank you, everyone who wrote, for your kind words and condolences. They helped enormously, as well.

If you would like to find out more about this painting, please email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com

Power Trio

The other day, about this same time, the moon came up early and full and the color of peach ice cream. The sky was a tender blue-pink that it only seems to reach when there is snow on the ground – and the rising of that moon and the turning of the seasons felt like the rising of my heart, my hand just grasping the knob that will turn for me and and open the door to something new, something with promise – and I said a prayer of thanks and hope – and took a picture, too, just to remind myself.

Interested in this painting? It is oil on canvas, 36×48, and it’s for sale. Contact me for price and delivery options – carrieBjacobson@gmail.com