Deep Trees, 2007, Oil on Panel, 16x20
The Saturday snail mail delivery by Jim the mailman (who is also our neighbor and doubles as the guy who brush hogs our land each fall), brought me two lovely and much needed surprises. Doug has been out of town for weeks at a time over the last few months and we were nearing the end of another week long stretch. And so I was going a bit mental. Not from the kids so much (ok, well maybe a little) but from having to do everything, everyday, most especially cooking and cleaning up after dinner each night. The kids help, but, well, they don't really, know what I mean? And I was incredibly tired after having stayed up until 2am to watch The Good Shepherd (got a late start on that because I had to go pick up my daughter from a birthday party at 9pm Friday evening). Then Saturday morning there was soccer practice and another birthday party, a few manufactured preteen dramas as well as feelings of guilt over not going outside to do some yard work in order to take advantage of the stunning weather. And why oh why must I actually feel ill the day after having only a few hours sleep? I used to be able to do all nighters with ease and now if a miss an hour or two of sleep I become the worst crabby patty* ever.
Folded into the usual bills, junk mail and endless credit card solicitations were two hand addressed envelopes. Very rare these days! The first one contained an acceptance letter for a juried regional show in my favorite place ever, Woodstock, NY. I have stopped entering competitions for the most part, but I make exceptions for ones that have some meaning for me and whose organizations I like to help support. I entered this same show last year and had some luck getting in and winning an award, a gift certificate for a actual art supply store for $100. Which I used to buy four, yes, only four tubes of paint. Ones that I never would have splurged on otherwise. Since I love, love, love Woodstock and the Woodstock School of Art, I am very pleased to be included again this year, as well as having an excuse to drive down and spend a day there when delivering the painting.
The next piece of mail was a check along with an encouraging note from my New York gallery (that has such a nice ring to it), Multiple Impressions. They have sold a number of paintings now and I am feeling good about my possible status there. Of course, now they want more pieces, large ones of course (because they are the most difficult for me to do), so bright and early Sunday morning I found myself priming two 36x48 panels.
Days like that make me very happy that mail has not become entirely obsolete yet.
*Gratuitous SpongeBob Square Pants reference.