Early Spring (April 2015)

Wow! It's actually warm this early in the day. Nice.

We've had some significant temperature drops this week: one day it's sunny and warm, the next day it's a frigid return to winter. It can be hard to retain your faith about better days ahead (not that I view weather or seasons as inherently "bad", but it is a useful metaphor for feelings), but on one gloriously early morning last week, I felt more alive than I had in awhile.  

While I walked to the corner store for a cup of coffee, the sun rose to full effect, coloring the trees and buildings a golden shade of pink, as a chorus of lively birds flew around quickly, like a safari scene staged just for me. It felt great! I breathed it all in, that sweetness and magic, as I hope now that my pictures here give you a bit of the feeling that I have. It's my natural joie de vive and it endures, just like my faith. Have fun today!

Here comes the sun.

Absolutely gorgeous light today.

Look at all these crisscross lines in the sky!

A gentle subtle pink turns to light blue and then some.

What a sky today! Glad I ran out of coffee so I can see this.

A dividing line in the sky.

The dictionary definition of "chiaroscuro" on a humble electrical pole.

A riot of colors shot through the sky.

Trees lining up to spectacular effect.

A big old yellow house on the hill meets the morning sky.

Do you see what I see?

A stand of trees against the sky.

Silhouette of trees against morning light.

Three crows perched on a tree.

Two clouds side by side, gliding through the sky.

The Perfect Studio

Ever since I was a child, I wanted to live as any artist would, either in some old Parisian attic atelier, or a big city loft, or a large one room studio. In my mind, it simplifies life down to the necessary essentials (with way less cleaning involved), plus there's plenty of Romantic tall windows pouring in natural light, which define my lifelong scholarship: the study of light and optics within the natural world as it relates to the human condition. 

But, time and money conspired greatly against me: I either had a family member to take care of, or I couldn't afford it on my salary, or some man and/or a college friend wanted to muscle in on my living situation, such is my ability to properly house myself on less.

And so, many, many years after I originally conceived of it, I finally realized my lifelong dream of "aloneness" and oneness in one simply beautiful, humble studio space that I can share with you all. I can finally say with a sigh of relief that I spent my mid-years according to my ideals of comfort, style, and simplicity, and that I willingly left my "Bachelorette" years behind me just as I foresaw and designed them to be; on my terms and on my home turf. I can have the luxury of saying to my loved ones, at the end of all my years here on earth, that I ended my bachelorhood as splendidly as I entered it: perfectly beautifully. See it here, for yourself.

 
 

The Perfect One-Room Studio (Pearl River, N.Y., 2015).

Shadows in Winter

Wintertime in the sun and shade (Pearl River, New York, 2015).

Homecoming

Two doorways.

As I knew I would, I came home after many years away. They were good hard years of some fun, some heartache, some adventure, and some travel, with much added experience. I loved it, but it was time to go home, and I knew it. So one day, on the cusp of financial ruin, I gave in to what I knew to be true, cashed my last paycheck, packed what few bags I had left in the bare sublet room I slept in because the rest of my stuff was in storage, and moved to a spare room in my moms' apartment to weather the storm. It was rough seas all the way, but that's like any real passage of time: to stick with you it has to hurt a little bit and sometimes a lot, and so it did.

Lamplight at night.

But I'm here now, and very glad of it. I know this place like a seedling knows how to grow in soil ripe for the planting. I took to it and it has, in it's own turn, taken back to me. This is my territory and my kind of land, that of my ancestors, which stretches all the way up to Canada, and I plan to savor every bit of it, like the food here that feeds my soul, because I've been cooking and serving up versions of it with home ingredients all of my life, in preparation for this time period.

Blue light, yellow light.

Stay tuned for next week's feature that I alluded to last year (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2014/02/stay-tuned.html). I referred to it as obliquely and discreetly as I could, obliged as I was under certain legal circumstances with stringent conditions that had to be followed, lest I suffer the consequences that come from jumping the gun. I do not play a young man's game, my friends, and I am happy to report that particular storm has now passed, though I'm sure others will certainly follow suit, because our very human ups-and-downs are the stuff of life itself.

Curtain and window in mid-morning light.

"Bienvenue" to you, new to this here and now.
Welcome to the light that's always been.

Bare Branches in Winter, III

Bare Branches in Winter III (Pearl River, NY, 2015)

Snow and Columns and Trees (in Winter)

Wintertime in the Hudson Valley (Pearl River, NY, January 2015)

Tree Branches

I've been amassing a collection of pictures during the end of fall, before our first snow of the season, which we had last week. Goodbye, Autumn. Hello, Winter.