One of the ways Mark is remarkable is that he allows me to grieve over Bill, still, after all these years – he even looks for signs that Bill might be around, still, somehow, somewhere. The day we visited the White Horse, we sat outside (because, of course, this is the year of the pandemic). Not long after our beers arrived, so did a redbird. I’d never seen a redbird in NYC. Just sparrows and pigeons. Mark said, “Yep, Bill’s here.”
One afternoon I took off alone to get away from to explore Brooklyn. This painting – Poplars in the City – is the result.
I still get a thrill whenever I step outside and see these rooftop water tanks, because they remind me that I am now a New Yorker. Something I am so proud to be. Pandemic or not.
I was stuck in NYC alone for my birthday, with only the five quarantine cats to talk to (I’d taken my daughter’s cat and all of her roommates’ cats under wing – adding to our already 2-cat house).
Before I moved to NYC, I’d never painted on a canvas larger than 48″ x 36″. However, because of the pandemic, I had nothing better to do but paint around the clock… plus, I had a new terrace, so why not. My first attempt was so-so at best.
I moved to N.Y.C. during the heart of the heart of the first wave of the 2020 Pandemic. My husband had three or four months of work to do in D.C. before he could join us (us, being the cats and me). After the first week of translating cat talk, I went to Riverside Park to at least watch other people speak to each other!