Four Green Fields

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For St. Patrick’s Day, a painting, and the folk song by Irish musician Tommy Makem that inspired the painting.

What did I have, said the fine old woman
What did I have, this proud old woman did say 
I had four green fields, each one was a jewel 
But strangers came and tried to take them from me 
I had fine strong sons, who fought to save my jewels 
They fought and they died, and that was my grief, said she 

Long time ago, said the fine old woman 
Long time ago, this proud old woman did say 
There was war and death, plundering and pillage 
My children starved, by mountain, valley, and sea 
And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens 
My four green fields ran red with their blood, said she 

What have I now, said the fine old woman 
What have I now, this proud old woman did say 
I have four green fields, one of them’s in bondage 
In strangers’ hands, that tried to take it from me 
But my sons had sons, as brave as were their fathers 
My fourth green field will bloom once again, said she

A Calendar for 2020: Cathedral

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Here is my new calendar for 2020, each month featuring one of a series of paintings at Washington National Cathedral and its gardens. The calendar is 8-1/2″ x 11″ and printed on sturdy satin stock, substantial enough that the images can be saved as prints. (Soon I will post the paintings for each month, so that you can see them all, unless you prefer to be surprised.)

A single calendar is $23; a set of two is $42; plus shipping. Shipping is Priority Mail, domestic US. If you are in my area, you can obtain a calendar from me directly without shipping cost—just let me know.

I’m sorry that international shipping costs make the calendars too expensive to ship overseas.

They will also be available at the Washington Waldorf School Holiday Bazaar on November 23rd, along with note cards featuring the Cathedral paintings and my other cards as well.

Single calendar:




Set of 2 calendars:




Artists of Woodley Park

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Two of the paintings in my Washington National Cathedral series will be on exhibit in the Artists of Woodley Park show opening October 17, 2019. I’m looking forward to seeing work of the more than 20 Woodley Park artists included, and I hope some of you might make your way there this fall.

Stanford in Washington Gallery
2655 Connecticut Avenue NW

Washington, DC 20008

The morns are meeker than they were

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A painting, and a poem by Emily Dickinson. Happy Autumn Equinox, everyone.

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.

—Emily Dickinson

Megan

Sonnet 73

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For the first day of autumn, this sonnet evoking the season’s beauty and melancholy.

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
—William Shakespeare

Greeting to Spring (Not Without Trepidation)

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Well, it’s sleeting, and snow is on the way. But it IS the first day of spring. So, a poem by Robert Lax, and a painting.

Over the back of the Florida basker,
over the froth of the Firth of Forth,
Up from Tahiti and Madagascar,
Lo, the sun walks north.

The first bright day makes sing the slackers
While leaves explode like firecrackers,
The duck flies forth to greet the spring
And sweetly municipal pigeons sing.

Where the duck quacks, where the bird sings,
We will speak of past things.

Come out with your marbles, come out with your Croup,
The grass is as green as a Girl Scout troop;
In the Mall the stone acoustics stand
Like a listening ear for the Goldman band.

At an outside table, where the sun’s bright glare is,
We will speak of darkened Paris.

Meanwhile, like attendants who hasten the hoofs
Of the ponies who trot in the shadow of roofs,
The sun, in his running, will hasten the plan
Of plants and fishes, beast and man.

We’ll turn our eyes to the sogging ground
And guess if the earth is cracked or round.

Over the plans of the parties at strife,
Over the planes in the waiting north,
Over the average man and his wife,
Lo, the sun walks forth!

—Robert Lax

Lynn & Donald 1976

The Maple Tree

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Although it stills feels as hot and muggy as midsummer here in Washington, DC, it is actually the first day of autumn in the northern hemisphere. So, a painting and a poem in celebration. The leaves are changing color; we await those crisp cool blue-sky days. And wait… Happy Autumn, everyone.

The Maple with its tassell flowers of green
That turns to red, a stag horn shapèd seed
Just spreading out its scallopped leaves is seen,
Of yellowish hue yet beautifully green.
Bark ribb’d like corderoy in seamy screed
That farther up the stem is smoother seen,
Where the white hemlock with white umbel flowers
Up each spread stoven to the branches towers
And mossy round the stoven spread dark green
And blotched leaved orchis and the blue-bell flowers—
Thickly they grow and neath the leaves are seen.
I love to see them gemm’d with morning hours.
I love the lone green places where they be
And the sweet clothing of the Maple tree.

—John Clare 1793-1864

Elizabeth