"Snowdrops" oil painting SOLD at Maple & Main Gallery's Opening! or How Can I Bear To Sell My Paintings?

You may remember me writing a while back about my oil painting on linen entitled "Snowdrops."   Well, a new friend attended last Friday's opening at Maple & Main Gallery of Fine Art and made a joy-filled decision.  She will be adding it to her art collection.  My painting reminded her of the snowdrops which bloom in her own garden.  This is the photo she sent me of hers.  It turns out that we both LOVE these tiny blossoms because they are such faithful little harbingers of spring. 

(And apparently rodents do not enjoy feasting on these tiny bulbs the way they do tulips and other tasty garden treats.)



"Snowdrops" by Joan Cole, 6" x 8" oil on linen



As you can see, the snowdrops in my painting don't have their "wings" spread because they were so cold.  The area where they live in my yard is tucked under a grove of mountain laurel bushes (Kalmia latifolia) and white pine at the base of a granite ledge.  (That is a lone laurel leaf in the painting.)  It's a pretty chilly exposure.  Yet, despite the lack of full sun, still they bloom.  Indomitable!

 
As an artist, it means so much to me to watch a person's face light up when she sees one of my paintings.  It is such validation of my artistic ability and all the years that I have spent painting.  When that person chooses to buy a piece of my art--out of all the many other incredibly beautiful paintings in the Gallery's present show--I am invariably humbled by the experience. 

The sale of a painting is a reminder to me that the beauty I saw in that insignificant cluster of flowers is an inspiration to another as well.  Something that touched my heart and made me want to paint it has also touched her heart.  I could call it "spirit" or "beauty" or perhaps "joy." 

Whatever you name it,

that quality,

that essence,

is passed from the earth where it lives,

through my hands working with paint on canvas,

to a collector's heart,

and from there to a wall in her home. 

I know that "spirit" will come to life every time someone is inspired by looking at the painting.  After all, that is the meaning of "inspiration":  a breathing in.

The money an artist makes from each sale is a necessity for the continuance of her work.  However, the passing on of joy is my greatest reward.  Really!

Many people have asked me if it bothers me to sell my work, to have to give it up.  This is the long answer to that question.  Usually, I give them the shortened version:  "No!"

Snowdrops--an overlooked gift

For most winters in recent Connecticut memory,  Nutmeggers have waited patiently--or not--for spring to arrive.  In years past, as I watched our rhodedendrons' leaves curl in plummeting temperatures,  I have stoically borne the burden of bare brown ground.   However, my bell curve of patience is definitely skewed to the left, especially when it comes to winter.  I can't wait for spring, my most loved season of the year--the season of renewal and rebirth. 


Having made that confession, I must admit I rue all those cold, barren, snowless weeks in years past that I took mom's snowdrops, or Galanthus, for granted.  Tucked under a grove of laurel bushes at the top of our driveway, these steadfast little bulbs year after year thrust their slender stems and leaves through the frozen earth to burst into bloom at the hint of warmth.  I have always rejoiced at the sight of them, but this year they will be a sight for sore eyes!

"Snowdrops" by Joan Cole, oil on linen, 6" x 8"

I have been thinking with gratitude of those intrepid little blossoms much of late, since they are buried under two feet of snow and ice right now.  With more snow expected sometime this evening as well as later in the week, I am so glad I took the time last year to paint their portrait.  Right now, this painting is hanging at Maple & Main Gallery of Fine Art in Chester, Connecticut, awaiting Friday's opening from 5 to 8.  (I hope you can stop by.)


Yesterday was Essex, Connecticut's, annual Groundhog Day Parade and Unveiling when townsfolk turn out to march down Main Street banging pots and pans to wake up Essex Ed.  Led by a group of drummers and followed by the fire truck,  the area children and adults do their very best to alert Ed to the approach of his big day--February 2--when he must determine whether we'll have six more weeks of winter.  Punxatawny Phil has nothing on Ed.  Unlike last year when he dressed as Elvis to celebrate "The King's" 75th birthday, this year, Essex Ed appeared as a representative of the Ivoryton Playhouse.


Now there is a bit of competition, I suspect, among the towns of Chester, Deep River, and Essex.  But I don't think it's just that I'm a resident of Deep River and part-owner of an art gallery in Chester.  And I certainly don't pretend to imagine that my little oil painting could in any way compete with Essex Ed.  However, you'll never know if you don't see it for yourself. 

Small is beautiful.  Think of David and Goliath. Think "Snowdrops" and Essex Ed. 


I leave it to you, my faithful readers and collectors to vote.  Which is a better reminder to you that spring is on its way?


Joan's oil painting "Snowdrops"      ______     :-)

or

Essex Ed     _____


Seriously, please come Friday evening, February 4th, to our third opening at Maple & Main, One Maple Street, Chester.  I know you'll agree that "Snowdrops" is hanging among VERY GOOD company.

My Oil Paintings of Winter in Deep River...and a bit more

Hi Everyone,


Well, if you are from Connecticut, you KNOW we are buried under TONS of snow.  But for those of you who are not--especially our snowbird friends--I thought you might like to see what you are missing.

This storm brought the total snowfall in the month of January to the highest that Connecticut has recorded since we started measuring snowfall 106 years ago.   Before the storm,  59” had already fallen, and this storm added more than twenty inches.  Snowbanks are so high that driving in Connecticut has become a challenge.   Folks shoveling the piles left at the ends of their driveways  are tossing snow  higher than their heads!  If you squint a bit, you can just barely see me at the end of our driveway--BEHIND the snowpile!

Winter Shadows by Joan Cole, oil on linen panel, 8 x 10"

These two oil paintings will be among the ones I will be showing at MAPLE & MAIN's  GALA WINTER OPENING next Friday evening, February 4th, from 5 to 8 pm.

Winter Snowfall by Joan Cole, oil on linen, 9 x 12"

I have created a video of the day for your bemusement.  Interspersed among my photos of our yard are these two plein air paintings as well as three more.  I wonder which will be your favorite?  I hope you enjoy the video.