There was a woods across the street from the farm. On the far side of of a large corn field, then through an encircled meadow that remained un-tilled, too inaccessible for farming. A small woods through which ran a narrow, banked ribbon of stream. In winter it was the most beautiful place I could find. I'd make… Continue reading a long ago winter place
On the Sunday through Tuesday morning after Thanksgiving I went on a little road trip with the chickens and Jess out to Jenny Jump State Forest in New Jersey. Though it was a clear and mild day, there was enough snow there still to make it very picturesque.
An old drawing, recently rediscovered. And here we are, still banished to the land of wind and ghosts. I feel I’ve fairly jinxed something by quoting that passage from Hemingway a ways back; while we’ve not had too much in the way of rain, we’ve yet to meet that “night of warm wind” that brings… Continue reading The wind, HOWLING
I’ve just walked up the hill from Prospect station and that wind is a vicious bitch from the part of hell that’s just a cold emptiness. It’s carrying a cheerless snow that gathers in shallow pockets which suddenly wisp away, or at you— spineless little hell ghosts slithering the sidewalk on ice-dry bellies. I think… Continue reading fearsome gusts and corrective lenses
Another Dan McCarthy piece, 'The Winter' Trudging through heavy snow on a blue-wet winter evening; there’s a waltz in my ears and I can’t remember what summer tastes like. The wind stings but it’s not as bad as it sounded from indoors, where the gusts skirted the aluminum sashes and made veiled threats. There’s something… Continue reading The Winter
The continued accumulation of snow and cold gives an indication why Imbolc is one of the Celtic fire festivals. Ostensibly marking the annual alteration of the Goddess from the crone back into the maiden, this year she seems to’ve returned in the form of the Snow Queen instead. Had a lovely walk through Prospect Park… Continue reading Imbolc’s capricious concoction of fanciful confections
I'm not sure when snowstorms became a thing to be numbered— they were fairly common as I grew up; happened rather regularly Upstate; had no names. Nonetheless, they do feel more fierce now than they did then. Then they were just snowfalls. Led to jolly fort-making or sledding. It all reminds me of Moominvalley, my… Continue reading Second storm of our current winter
A still from a Flash animation I did a number of years ago. I dusted off the artwork and re-created a new animation in After Effects so it could be posted as a video (viewable on most devices, unlike Flash). Go watch it now— and Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!
An ordinary day in winter, in December. Corridors of pine trees on the sidewalks of the city, chopped in service to the feast day turned holy day at solstice time; people scurrying to and fro, carrying bags and bundled up; the early dark punctuated by shoplights, headlights, and now the many and varied lights of… Continue reading An ordinary day in winter
A chilly scene from a winter cabin The first annual Haunted Cottage Halloween party (observed on All Saints Day) was smashing! A good start to the weekend, to the month. But now Daylight Savings Time has ended; snuck off in the wee hours of the morning like a thief, stealing the early evening’s last hour… Continue reading the stillness of a sunday
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 