How can it be that somehow the tilt of earth, the quality of cold January light, and a few sentinel trees find ways to make paying attention the only viable option?
~ Heidi Barr
(Facebook, January 13, 2020)
How can it be that somehow the tilt of earth, the quality of cold January light, and a few sentinel trees find ways to make paying attention the only viable option?
~ Heidi Barr
(Facebook, January 13, 2020)
I am in awe of this image – when i gaze at it, it becomes vibrant and alive inside – it eve tastes delicious – it feels like a moment in creation where everything stood still, time non-existing – and then i thought, what if that happens everywhere everynow – just as long as i accept to PAUSE and look and allow myself to be immersed
So many artists seem to know how to capture those transcendent moments with light and color. This painting struck me, too, even though it was painted about 1900 there are parts of Connecticut, my home, that still look like this today. And winter was always an extra magical time for me when I was a child, I spent hours enchanted with snowscapes. Thank you so much for your lovely comment, Leelah! β‘
Love the quote and the picture. I can always pay attention when I see a beautiful scene like this.
Thank you, Peggy. It’s wonderful when we come across a scene that stops us in our tracks so our minds can open and appreciate the beauty of it all. β‘
Oh Barbara, I love this! The message I am taking from the quote is that it just goes to show there is beauty in everything. π
Oh no, there’s a typo in my comment!
I fixed it for you, Joanne. π (I wonder if I would have noticed if you hadn’t? — lol) I think it’s the light that finds the beauty in everything, different kinds of light focusing on the allure of each season in its turn. β‘
There is much more beauty in winter than we think … and some of us need reminders.
Not me! I’m a winter lover. I’ll need reminders come summer when the bugs and the humidity obscure my appreciation of its beauty. π
Beautiful art and a lovely quote. A perfect Monday morning combo. Thanks.
You’re welcome, and thank you, Ally. I’m happy you enjoyed the combo. π It was fun matching them up.
Ah, Childe Hassam’s work is such a delight, isn’t it? He saw the world through the same blue lens that I do although I could never paint this. And the quote! So beautifully put.
I love all the blue in this painting, too, and am just getting acquainted with Childe Hassam’s art. I stumbled across a painting of Provincetown, Massachusetts, too, where Tim & I used to vacation in the summer. It had a golden hue, though, but it still tugged at my heart. β‘
Beautiful post, thank you Barbara!
You’re welcome, Janet! I’m glad you liked it. π
Both the painting and the quote are beautiful, Barbara!
Thank you, Donna! π
Well at least the sky is blue which is better than what sky I have been seeing lately. The sky doesn’t make the Winter seem so bleak.
You know, I always associate gray skies with December and sunny blue skies with January. Maybe it’s a Connecticut thing!?! It used to snow a lot in January, then the sun would come out but it would stay cold and look like the painting. Not so much any more…
I just remarked to a Pennsylvania blogger that this new normal for SE Michigan Winter makes no sense. Our forecaster gave this prediction for Monday: “if the storm tracks one way and it goes to the South, we get a dusting; if not, we get a foot of snow.” The predicting of the weather and the use of multiple models for doing so seems to lead to weather forecasts that are never as accurate as they once were. I’m happy we didn’t get the Polar Vortex event two weekends ago that they warned us about for about ten days. It was never mentioned again when it didn’t happen, so on social media some snarky person asked what happened to the Polar Vortex … of course others chimed in and the meteorologist said “oh, it’s parked elsewhere now.” (Discussion closed just like that.)
I suspect weather forecasting is getting more difficult with climate change. But here in New England we’re used to forecasters being uncertain about storm tracks and snow totals. Nor’easters in particular are unpredictable, sometimes going out to sea without leaving a trace of snow, sometimes hitting the whole state with blizzard conditions, other times dumping more snow here on the coast or else up in the northwest hills. When I was a kid the superintendent of schools would never call off school for a snow day until early that morning when he was sure it was already snowing. I remember my parents listening intently to the local radio station early in the morning when it was snowing, to get the word. A couple of times they missed it and sent us out to the bus stop (1/2 mile away) and would come pick us up when they found out a snow day had been decided. π
That’s interesting Barbara about your childhood – we had it similar when I lived in Canada, in Oakville, about 25 miles from Toronto. We used to get some whopper storms in the Winter time and lived on a crescent, just on the bend and we got the brunt of the winds which would sometimes drift and bury the VW Bug and my father would have to dig it out. I remember when the school closings were on the all-news station and it would take them a half-hour to rattle them all off, then they’d have some news and start that list over again. Your snow events sound much worse than ours were in Canada. When the kids still had in-seat learning here in Michigan, they’d call off school for 3-4 inches of snow or brutally cold weather. The kids in Detroit who take the bus (most of them) had no school for a week the last Polar Vortex.
Looks like you’re getting some snow tomorrow, and it will be here tomorrow night, but not leaving us with as much as you’ll be getting. (I think of you when I watch the national weather report.) I remember those days, too, when it took them forever to get through the cancellations on the radio when I was a child, and on the TV when my kids were in school. Now they notify by email or I see the cancellations scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen. They don’t do it verbally any more. π Hope you don’t get any polar vortexes this winter. I’m starting to mind the cold…
This exquisite painting and wonderful words were a pleasure on this winter day, Barbara. I am not very familiar with painters, so I quick looked him up and am grateful for this introduction. Cheers to always paying attention….
I’m so glad you enjoyed the painting and quote, Jet! I love finding Impressionist painters, like Hassam, with New England roots. In some ways, so little has changed in the landscape since the 1800s…
I’m paying attention as I watch out my window at the flurrying of snow as a red cardinal sits on a pine branch, seeming to stare right back at me.
Nice to see you on Frank’s Beach Reflection blog, btw.
Snow flurries and a cardinal sitting on a pine branch — I can’t conjure up anything more lovely to pay attention to. Eye contact is a joyful bonus! Thank you so much, Pam, for your kind words about my blog in the comments on Frank’s blog. β‘β‘β‘
Sending you a hug. Can you feel it? xo
Yes! π
I am very taken by the image & the quote; together, they illicit the “aha”!
Shivery, awed, swept to awareness. More to ponder over the rest of this day.
P/S I found you through Frank at Beach Walk Reflections.
Thank you, Ju-Lyn, I’m so happy you enjoyed the image/quote combination and that you found my blog via Frank. π Welcome! I’m looking forward to exploring your blog, too.
I love how we meet new BlogFriends through other BlogFriends!
Me, too! π
Thanks for sharing this painting, Barbara. It reminds me of Pissarro’s works. Can’t agree more with your title for the post, and loving the bird photos on your sidebar. π
And I did pay attention… I didn’t know I could change the background colour of my blog appearance until noticing yours here. π
I love the purple you chose for your background color. π I like to change mine with the seasons, the current one is my take on evergreens…
I can see what you mean about Pissarro. Hmmm… it’s been a few years since I’ve shared any of his paintings. I’m so happy to know you’re enjoying my bird photos. π