Cranberry Bog

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One of my favorite spots in the world… There aren’t really any cranberries growing here, but this beautiful little bog gets a cranberry color sometimes, and that’s what we call it. Occasionally in the summer you can sit on that far hillside and watch a beaver or two swimming around down below. This painting will also be at the Farmhouse show tomorrow!

Evening

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OK, I’ve been whining a little bit about the continuing cold. But come July, when it’s 90 degrees, I’m going to be happy to look back at this painting and remember those lovely, crisp winter nights, walking home from a holiday party as night falls and the lights come on. Locals, do you see our own little dummy light right there in the center?

Upstate, Late Winter

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Here’s another large one. This is some out-of-the-way farmland just south of the Finger Lakes region, on a cold, bitter day, when the last of the snow was not in any mood to melt. Unless it sells in the next few days, this painting will be hanging in my show at the Flat Iron Gallery in Peekskill for the month of March. (Reception is Sunday; come on by!)

Cranberry Bog, Afternoon

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My favorite ski run used to come down through the woods and end at the far reaches of this scene. They logged the woods last year, so we had to establish a new run down through the adjoining forest. It’s pretty, but not as thrilling and terrifying as the old one. A few people should know exactly where this is.

Black Rock, First Snow

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I was so excited about our first snowfall that I rushed right out first thing in the morning to take pictures. I’d like to say that I stopped to put pants on, but I’m not sure—I may have still been in my jammies.