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Recently, I entered a contest called, “Like Going Home Again.” The contest was sponsored by Fine Arts America, and my painting, “New Friends,” was one of 163 paintings being judged by the general public. The painting must have pulled at a few heart strings because it placed second in the contest.

The painting depicts a little girl feeding her horse from her hat with her dog at her side. Growing up in Central New York on a small farm, which had been in my family for five generations, this painting brings back a lot of memories of my own childhood. My earliest recollections are of our old farm horse, Tony, who was my closest and best friend. My first rides were on his ample back, and when I started school there was Tony waiting for me as I got off the school bus waiting to welcome me home and walk me up to the house. My second best friend was our German Shepherd, Lucky.

Lucky was appropriately named for not only was he lucky that we found him when only a puppy abandoned in the pricker bushes, but he saved our little family and our house from a fire when I was a small child.

The painting, “New Friends,” is exactly like the contest’s name for me--“Like Going Home Again.”

I am pleased to announce that my oil painting, “Dining on Lake Como,” won 2nd place in the “Waiting Room Art” contest. This was a juried contest sponsored by Fine Art America, and was selected out of 231 paintings from various artists around the globe.

I love this painting and I’m glad to see that the feelings are mutual. Even though the setting is rather formal, the ambience of the scene is inviting. It’s not hard to imagine yourself sitting at such a table, and lazing away a warm and sunny afternoon in the shade of the vine-covered portico at one of the many wealthy villas which surround the lake.

Such a setting has a very calming effect, and is ideal for a place where people gather in an otherwise stressful situation--such as a waiting room.

Every few days I check my website (www.WishfulTravelerGallery.com) to see how many people have visited; and the other day I hit a milestone when I saw that exactly 20,000 people had visited the site. Less than a week later, I see that I now have had 20,487 visitors to the website and counting. This milestone isn’t bad considering I started the website less than two years ago.

Watching the traffic to my website has been like reading a road map. When I first started downloading pictures of my paintings, it was like going down one of our winding country roads up here in Central New York with a few visitors to the site. In fact, the scenery was pretty much like our CNY farmland with scenes of old barns, country churches, country Christmases, horses and carriages, and farm kids doing what farm kids like to do. However, on my road map I found myself taking a turn and following my dream of traveling through Europe through my paintings.

Instead of winding country roads, now it’s meandering canals with mirrored reflections from colorful buildings hugging their banks. Strolling through charming, little Italian villages along the Mediterranean to boating the Grand Canal in Venice. My new map winds through medieval towns along the Alsace Wine Trail in France, to visiting castles in Germany and so much more.

Of 20,487 visitors to my website, 11,721 of them had viewed my 60 paintings of European art. And 8,766 visitors have traveled along my country map and viewed my 86 paintings of CNY.

It seems like that turn I took from bucolic country paintings to European art was the right turn to take.

Well I might not have won a trip to Lake Como, Italy, but I did win a contest on Fine Art America for my oil painting, “Dining on Lake Como.” The contest was called, “A Table For Two,”

The views on Lake Como are spectacular, lending to a wonderful world full of dreams and promises. I have done several paintings now of this northern region in Italy, and have concluded that it would be hard to find a bad view from any angle. Riding the ferry service, strolling through several little villages that dot the lake, and visiting majestic villas with their marvelous statues which look over the lake are truly inspiring. In fact, the scenery on Lake Como is so tantalizing that even the most stalwart home body feels a twinge of the wanderlust.

“Dining On Lake Como” depicts a table set under an opulent portico in the wonderful, and famous, village of Bellagio. And yes, this was the inspiration behind Las Vegas’ five-star Bellagio Hotel and Casino. The table is set for guest dining al fresco overlooking the lake and the spectacular mountain views beyond.

So even though I haven’t won a trip to Lake Como, when I look at this painting I can almost feel that I am there once again. Bellisimo Lake Como, well done!

I am so excited and honored to be a featured artist from June 28 to July 27, with an opening reception June 28 from 6 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. at the Rome Art Community Center in Gallery C. The center features three art galleries, and the Rome Regional Show will be displayed during the same timeframe.

I love the setting, the building itself is such a good fit for me with a wonderful European look and feel to it. I can’t wait to show my newest paintings depicting so many wonderful places in France, Germany and Italy. I hope they will inspire other people as much as they have inspired me.

The gallery hours are Monday to Thursday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Friday and Saturday from 10a.m. to 2 p.m.

I hope to see many of my friends there, and hopefully make some new ones along the way. Oh--did I forget to tell you that the show is in Rome, New York, not Rome, Italy, but gee it sure does have a nice ring to it…doesn’t it?

Last week’s blog featured my painting, “Evening in Venice,” so I guess I might as well keep the trend going with another one of my newest Italian landscape paintings, “Early Morning in Venice.” I love early mornings because it’s such a nice, quiet, and peaceful time of the day. I am really happy how in this painting the sun’s warm glow hits against the old worn buildings give them a deceptive look of cheerfulness and warmth. Gently, the early morning breeze floats over the water and gives the water a slight choppiness which slaps happily against the building’s edge.

I love the vibrant colors and the depths of the doorways leading into places of dark mystery. All in all, the scene is very relaxing and I find myself yearning once again for a trip to Italy.

In all of the years that I have painted, I can’t remember ever painting a night scene in oils…until now. I just finished, “An Evening in Venice,” and I was amazed at how amazing this night scene turned out. The contrast of light and dark are still there, especially with the dramatic effects given off by light streaming out of lit windows and spreading out onto the streets and water surrounding the buildings.

The setting is one of the side canals in Venice, Italy, and the colors are very festive with an air of Carnival permeating through the air. I chose the dusky time of day, between daylight and dark. It is a time in the day which remains rather mysterious, a transition between business hours and leisure time. So prepare yourself to step out, imagine the coolness of the night breezes coming in off the water’s edge. Think of lights coming on and going off as people move from room to room, and take a few minutes to enjoy the smell of flowers wafting through the air.

If you are lucky enough to be visiting Cooperstown, New York, between now and June 1, 2012, you can see it at the 21st Annual Regional Juried Art Show called, Essential Art, at the Cooperstown Art Association Galleries on 22 Main Street. The gallery is located across the street from the Baseball Hall of Fame in the Cooperstown Library on the first level. Gallery hours are Monday through Saturday (closed on Tuesdays) from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., and Sundays from 1 to 4 p.m.

April 1 was our sons 30th birthday and it only seems appropriate that I would finish my newest painting on this day of Neuschwanstein Castle (in winter). Like me, our son has always had a passion for European castles. Neuschwanstein is the famous castle nestled in the Bavarian Alps, better known as “The Cinderella Castle.” It is also the first painting of a winter scene in oil that I have done in a very long time.

I anxiously await a new high-powered camera so I will be able to share this and the many others that I have completed since returning home from New Mexico.

Recently, I finished a painting of my beloved Portofino, Italy, and am happy to say I have already begun my newest one of that lovely little fishing village situated in the Liguria region of Italy.

March is here and what better way to celebrate Women’s History Month than to have one of my paintings, “The Back Stairs,” from my Italian landscape painting collection picked for a month-long show in New York City.

As a member of the National Association of Women Artists, it is an honor have been selected to show one of my paintings at the Riverside Public Library located on 127 Amsterdam Ave. (right across the street from the Lincoln Center). The name of the show is EV(e)OLUTION II. The exhibit will run from March 1 to 31.

As part of the show the Association made a poster of “The Back Stairs,” which is to be hung from one of several large windows looking out onto the busy street advertising the show. If anyone happens to be in Manhattan during the month of March and able to, I would really like to have a picture of the building showing where the poster has been hung. I will happily give the photographer a free set of greeting cards featuring any one of my paintings they choose.

This is a great opportunity for myself and who knows what might evolve out of EV(e)OLUTION II. If you get a chance, I hope you will visit the exhibit and enjoy the talent of the female artists who have been chosen for this special show.

After spending the last two months in New Mexico (for the birth of our new granddaughter), I am finally back in Central New York and once again painting. I have a few more finishing touches to put on my newest painting of Brugge, a lovely old city in Belgium, and I’m already looking forward to my next painting.

My passion to return to Europe was refueled when I found out that the plane I boarded going from Atlanta to JFK in NY was continuing on to Venice, Italy. As an artist of European landscape paintings and a new grandmother, it seemed rather mean that I had to disembark the plane and watch it load back up and leave for it’s final destination to Italy.

Once again, I find myself living my dream to return to Europe through my paintings which actually isn’t a bad thing. And now I have a beautiful little baby girl to think about, which makes the life I lead all that much better.

I can't remember when music wasn't in my life. Some of my earliest recollections in Central New York are of warm summer days and classical music emanating from our old farmhouse softly drifting over vast fields of dandelions. On those lazy summer days, our old farm horse Tony would stand under the living room window for hours on end with his head hung low, mesmerized by strands of Beethoven and Bach lofting through the air from my mother’s record player. Another early recollection is of a little Yellow Finch we called Flicka. Flicka had fallen out of a tree during a bad storm even though he had lost a wing, he survived and lived comfortably with our little family. I never hear a Strauss Waltz without thinking of Flicka, whenever my mother played them he would sing his little heart out to his rendition of, “The Blue Danube;” which was particularly sweet.

As time went on, I found my penchant for music was almost as great as my desire to become an oil painter, and now I find the two going hand in hand. Now when I paint, the music progresses right along with my painting.

Even though I have painted hundreds of paintings, I am still nervous when starting out on a new canvas, wondering and hoping that I will be able to put down on canvas the European landscape paintings I am envisioning in my mind. The slow, solemn repetitious lines from ancient Gregorian Chants help sooth my jitters and keep me on task at that point. As the work progresses, so does the music as it jumps ahead into the classical era, and once again I find myself listening to those wonderful classical pieces from my childhood. A good part of my painting experience is done in this time period, as if hoping the old masters will rub off on me. As I near the end of a painting, the music moves up the time line to the old Crooners such as Sinatra onto The Beatles, Beach Boys and the like. Finally--believe it or not, at the end with the finish line in sight, I crank up the volume and rap music goes bouncing off of my walls.

I like all types of music, but I still hold the classics of my childhood as my favorite.

I am almost as passionate about history as I am about art. For me, the two go hand in hand. Perhaps this is why I have gravitated toward European art. Painting Medieval buildings along ancient canals and rivers, or buildings along narrow cobblestone-lined streets, holds a certain appeal for me.

My love of history has not only influenced what I paint, but how I paint. At a time when so much art is abstract, I go totally in the opposite direction spending hours in detailing my work. It is my desire that when someone looks at one of my paintings, they feel as if they can walk right into the painting and feel the history which is embedded in the landscape painting. Hopefully, my Italian paintings and French landscape paintings inspire your imagination to come visit.

In a historical point of view, it would sadden me if I thought I only have one more year to paint—as many predict the world is coming to an end Dec. 21, 2012. We are bombarded with the disastrous news of the coming of the end of the world due to the Mayan calendar which ends Dec. 21, 2012. Again, paying attention to detail has become a comfort to me. I am here to tell you not to worry, this isn’t the first time the Mayan calendar has come to an end--actually it will be the 12th time. The Mayan calendar is on a 144,000-day cycle from its mythical creation date, which means that Dec. 21, 2012, will end its 5,200-year cycle. It’s hard to end history when it’s always repeating itself.

I took some time off from painting on my newest painting of Brugge, Belgium, and was unpacking my Christmas ornaments the other day which always has a way of becoming a nostalgic experience for me. As I am sure it is true for so many of us each year as I go through my Christmas box, I find myself unwrapping years of memories. One of my earliest and fondest memories which I still hold dear is my little plastic snow globe with its nativity scene. I first held my globe in tiny, little hands shaking the globe and watching in fascination as snow swirled around Baby Jesus. Now I hold my globe in hands that aren’t so youthful looking with crooked fingers and still my little snow globe fascinates me as I give it a shake making sure the snow still swirls around Baby Jesus.

The exact beginning of the snow globe invention can be traced back to France and its first public appearance was at the Universal Expo of 1878. The globes were a big hit for shortly afterward at least five companies manufactured snow globes and sold them throughout Europe. In 1889, snow globes with a tiny Eiffel Tower commemorating the newly-built landmark and the 100th anniversary of the French Revolution burst onto the scene. Their popularity spread to Victorian England where they were wholeheartedly embraced.

Soon after the snow globe was shaking up things in America (in more ways than one), when in the “Roaring 20s” they became an extremely popular collector’s item. Many of the Christmas snow globes were crafted by the Atlas Crystal Works company which had factories in Germany and America. Even today, most finely-crafted Christmas snow globes still come out of West Germany.

With the manufacturing of plastics in the 1950s, the quality of snow globes took a nose dive with mass productions of cheap plastic snow globes which diminished their appeal as a collector item. Fortunately, in the 1970s several American novelty and gift manufacturers decided to upgrade the production of the snow globe as gift items and collectables.

This week finds one painting coming home from New York City and three going out to the Cazenovia Public Library in Cazenovia, New York. It was exciting to display “Quiet Repose” at the National Association of Women Artists at their gallery, and now “The Garden Gate of Cinque Terre,” “Colmar in Full Bloom” and "Arch of St. Cirq in Lapopie” are hanging at the Cazenovia Public Library. The exhibition goes from now through January.

It’s been a busy week getting ready to leave for a few weeks stay in New Mexico and tying up loose ends here in Upstate New York. The tree is decorated, presents bought and wrapped and finishing touches being done on my latest painting of Bruges. It’s exciting to see the painting turn a corner and looking so good, soon I will be able to put this one to rest.

All and all, it’s been a productive week.

Thanksgiving gives us all time to reflect and think about the culmination of a year and what we can be thankful for. This has been an extra special year in our family. I have a healthy new granddaughter, and within a month another granddaughter will make her arrival. Our son is doing exceptionally well in College as he starts toward his new career endeavors. Since spring, three new horses grace our lives. We have a new garage where only grass grew last Thanksgiving, and our family members are all healthy.

It was a little over a year ago that I launched Wishful Traveler Gallery of which I am thankful for the 3 online galleries sponsoring my work, 15 group art shows this year and 3 shows of which I was the featured artist.

Since last Thanksgiving, my career as an artist has hit new heights when I was inducted into the National Association of Women Artists last Thursday in New York City. The NAWA is the oldest professional women’s art organization in the United States having been founded in 1889.

The induction ceremony was held at the Rubin Museum with the reception later held at the national headquarters of NAWA. Until I got there and was inducted into the association, I hadn’t realized just how difficult it is to get into this association. Many of new inductees have been trying to get into the organization for years. This year out of 160 applicants, only half were accepted and of that number only 33 are oil/acrylic painters like me. So I am thankful and humbled to have gotten in after one try.

The reception featured my painting “Quiet Repose” hanging among other works from new members. As an artist, New York City is the “Promised Land” and although it is not the first time one of my paintings has been hung in a gallery in NYC, it was the first time I have been present to see it for myself and that was extra special for me.

Lastly but uppermost in my thoughts, I am thankful for all those who bravely serve our country and are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep us safe.

I spent last week on the East Coast of Florida visiting family coincidentally at the same time of the annual Italian Festival. As an artist who focuses on Italian paintings to capture the beauty of the boot-shaped country's magnificent landscapes and seascapes, I was very much looking forward to going to the festival. I have been studying Italian for the past year and I am always looking for events and activities to fulfill my passion for this gorgeous country.

I guess for anyone who hasn’t been to Italy it was great fun, but for us who have and love the friendliness of the people, their language, music, history and surroundings--it was a great disappointment.

Unfortunately, the Roman soldiers stayed home for I saw none walking the streets (what a great photo op that would have been). Most of the vendors didn’t speak Italian, and even the food was a disappointment (which there was plenty of.) And when is pulled pork Italian? My ears are still ringing from sour notes sung by wanna-be Sinatras flatly singing “Volare.” The one bright spot of the festival was a lone gondolier playing the according and singing Italian songs. I began to think my $5 spent at the gate was worth it. Wouldn’t you know it after two songs in Italian he switches over to “Danny Boy!” How is that Italian?

It would have been nice to have seen a display of Italian cars, a gondola or two on the lake (I would have bought tickets for that). How about strong, young Italian men touting large flags and throwing them into the air and catching them as the come back to Earth? I would have liked to have visited a tent displaying artwork from local Italian artists? Since I was in Florida, where was the sand sculpture of Michelangelo’s Pieta? And would it be that hard to scatter a few fountains around the area--after all they are a dime a dozen in Florida.

I called my daughter and expounded on my disappointment hoping to hear I had been to a bad festival and that most of them were pretty darn good. She tells me all of the festivals here are like that. Hoping it was only the Italian Festivals, I asked her about the German Festivals, she tells me it’s all the same, none of them are authentic unless you go overseas.

If I want authenticity, I have to go back to Italy…to Europe itself. I miss Italy all the more now, for now I will have to satisfy myself with being there through my European landscape paintings. It’s also sad to think of all of those lovely German Christmas markets that will be starting up soon, which I won’t be strolling through to sip glühwein, listen to the folk music bands and shop for handmade treasures. I named my art gallery well--I really am the “Wishful traveler.”

It’s kind of funny what people will throw out in the trash. Even stranger is what some people will pick out of the trash. The old saying, “Someone’s trash is someone else’s treasure,” surely fits this story.

Back 30 or so years ago, Robert Leitch was driving through a rundown neighborhood of rooming houses in Philadelphia. The eagle-eyed gentleman spotted cardboard boxes by the curb, heaped high with wire-formed objects waiting for the next trash pickup. Something told him not to leave them there, so he pulled over and loaded over 1,200 pieces of wire-wrapped cocoons containing broken reflectors, mirror shards, crumpled cigarette packs, junk jewelry, coins and nails into his car.

The funny thing was that Leitch kept the collection under wraps, doling out a few pieces here and there to friends, who finally persuaded him to bring his treasure trove to a gallery curator back in 1984. In the beginning, only a few pieces sold for a paltry amount. In today’s art market, the “outsider art” by people on society’s fringes has been accepted and much sought after. The current show lists Wireman’s work anywhere from $2,200 to $9,000.

No one knows who the “Wireman” artist was; although it is assumed the artist was male because the heavy wire was bent by hand, requiring considerable strength. Most likely he was an African American after all the relics were found in one of Philadelphia’s oldest historically Black neighborhoods. It is surmised that the “Wireman” either died and a landlord put his possessions out as trash, or he was evicted and sadly left his belongings behind.

I think before I throw that next heap of wire fencing away on our farm here in upstate New York, I am going to look at it long and hard. Who knows if in 20 to 30 years from now it will be bringing in thousands of dollars in a Sotheby’s auction?

Halloween takes on a special meaning for me, not only because it is steeped in European Traditions, but because I am a New York artist which is home to Washington Irving’s “Ichabod Crane and the Legend of Sleepy Hallow.”

The origins of Halloween date back more than 2,000 years ago to Great Britain and northern France when the Celtic people celebrated New Years Eve and the end of another years’ harvest on Oct. 31. It was believed that spirits rose from the dead and returned to walk the Earth and cause mischief.

Today’s Halloween is a witch’s cauldron of traditions full of 19th century Irish and Scottish traditions, sprinkled with Christian interpretations of All Souls Day. The name, “Halloween,” means All Hollow’s Even or the day before All Hollow’s Day, better known as, All Saint’s Day, a catholic celebration that honors Christian saints and martyrs and is observed on Nov. 1. The colors orange and black are Halloween colors because orange is associated with the fall harvest, and black is associated with darkness and death.

You can thank those great storytellers, the Irish, for giving us the Jack-o-lantern. As the story goes, there was a man named Stingy Jack who tricked the devil in such a way that when the time came, the devil would neither let Stingy Jack enter into heaven nor in hell. Instead the devil sent Jack off into the darkness of night with only a burning coal to light his way. Jack put the coal into a carved-out turnip and has been roaming the Earth ever since. The Irish called the ghostly figure, “Jack of the Lantern.” However, the story didn’t end there for another tradition evolved out of Jack’s misfortune, that of carving faces into turnips and other foods on All Hallow’s Eve, and sometimes hallowing out and lighting the insides in which to ward off evil spirits like that of Stingy Jack and his tricks. As the Irish immigrants found their way to America they found the pumpkin to be a bigger and easier item to carve and soon it replaced the turnip as the ideal way to continue the tradition of casting off evil spirits.

Today’s Jack-o-lanterns have come a long way from those of my childhood memories when I stood on a chair so I could lean over and scoop out the insides of the pumpkin my dad was working on for me on the kitchen table with his trusty old jack knife. There are those who have taken pumpkin carving into a whole new realm of art which often leaves us shaking our head in wonder and amazement. Carving pumpkins gives all of us license to create whatever fanciful whims we may wish for from the simplest to the most intricately complicated creations. After all, it’s all for a good cause, for on this one night of the year, All Hallow’s Eve, those pesky evil spirits are kept at bay.

I am constantly reminded how subjective art is. Last weekend I participated in an art show in which a photograph of a car placed fourth place over some very fine artwork in which the artists took painstaking time and talent to create. Is it wrong to think a photo snapped within a nanno seconds should get the credit it did? Well that depends on who you talk to.

Personally, as a New York artist who takes what sometimes seems like forever to detail and finish a painting, I think categories should exist between the two mediums.

I am probably not as open minded as I should be or should I be? I am reminded of a memorable day a few years back while in Paris, France. I spent a glorious day in the most famous art gallery in the world--the Louvre. I was looking at what arguably is the most famous painting in the world, the Mona Lisa. Standing there looking at this simple, little painting by Leonardo da Vinci, which is surrounded by such wonderful masterpieces like those by Giovanni Paolo Panini, I had and still have trouble understanding what makes the Mona Lisa so special.

Some would say it is the mystery of her smile; well what about the mystery behind the smile on Johannes Vermeer's "Girl With The Pearl Earring" in 1665? It is a smile, and what is she thinking?

However you look at what you call art, the one thing that we all surely can agree on is that we agree we can agree on nothing at all. That is what makes art in general so interesting; it lets anyone express themselves with artistic liberties which will find a place in at least one person’s heart.

As an artist who paints French landscape paintings, this recent art mystery fascinated me. In 1875, the city of Douai, France, in the northern part of the country commissioned Jules Breton to paint what became known as “Fisherman’s Daughter.” Breton lived from 1827 to 1906, and was a French realist painter who became famous for his idyllic version of rural country life.

The painting, “A Fisherman’s Daughter,” hung in the Beaux Art Museum in Douai until 1918 with the occupation of German troops in WW1. During the German occupation, all of the paintings in the museum were confiscated and sent to Mons, Belgium, then on to Brussels, Belgium. A year later the war ended and Brussels sent the paintings back to the Beaux Museum--all except one, “Fisherman’s Daughter.”

No one knows what happened to the painting after that except for the fact that it had been successfully restored (it had been cut out of its frame). The fate of the painting, which is valued at $150,000, haunted the art world for nearly a century. In 2010, there was a break in the case when it was rumored that the painting was to be sold in New York at an art auction.

Ironically, it was a little known office inside our own U.S. Department of Homeland Security, known as the Cultural Property, Art and Antiquities Unit, took over and the allusive painting and finally returned it to its place of origin, the Beaux Art Museum in Douai, more than 90 years after its disappearance. The U.S. Department of Homeland Defense has repatriated more than 2,500 items to 22 countries since 2007.

For the next couple of weeks the four horses in my life won’t be the only thing I have to fit into an already busy day. I have two art shows that I am preparing for right now. First, I will be hanging two paintings from my new European landscape paintings collection in the Kirkland Town Library in Clinton, New York, as part of the Mad Art Inc. art show. The show will run from Oct. 4 to 29, with a reception on Oct. 5 from 6 to 8 p.m.

The second show is at The Aspen House on Willett Parkway, Radisson in Baldwinsville, New York. My artwork will be on display Oct. 15-16 from 1 to 4:30 p.m. I always look forward to this show which happens twice a year in the spring and in the fall.

Gee…I wonder how the horses are going to get along without all of that primping and fussing with that they have gotten used to on a regular basis.

Fall has arrived and still no frost, I can’t remember when we have made it through September without a frost, however, and I also can’t remember a wetter September either. It makes working outside a bit of a challenge, but one learns how to work around the raindrops.

The other day a girlfriend came over to “play” with the horses. She’s a good friend who I have known for years, and coincidentally she is a Central New York artist too. I have always admired and looked up to her somewhat enviously since she and her husband both are successful artists who live and have galleries in New York City with a summer home here in Central New York.

Both of us had painting to do in the afternoon, and neither one of us would be painting in typical artist fashion. Ironically, each of us had trim boards to paint, she on her house, and I on our new garage. We both found that very funny.

There is a sense of urgency in the air. For the past week, the air has been filled with honking, sometimes it sounds like a big old traffic jam, except the noise isn’t coming from cars on our seldom-traveled road, but from the skies above. As anyone can tell you who lives here in upstate New York, our airways are the gateway to the winter vacation grounds not only for us two-legged (snow) birds, but also for the winged ones we call Canadian Geese. They gather in numbers over our waterways (which by the way, after two weeks in a row with as many hurricanes barreling through we most certainly have significant waterways here in Central New York) the geese are now heading south.

Their sense of urgency is rather contagious. I am beginning to do those jobs I have been putting off because I had all summer to get to them-but didn’t! I have been doing a lot of painting this week. I started a couple of weeks ago with my collection of European landscape paintings. The painting is set in gorgeous Bruges, Belgium. I have also been painting outside on my house—a much larger canvas.

Hearing the geese overhead as they fly south, usually is met with a foreboding for winter is surely coming. You get a sense of being left behind, standing there listening and watching them. However, I will make my own escape this winter and I will travel through my paintings to places that I love. I will be thinking of springtime when the whole process starts again, and the geese return bringing wonderful warm breezes and lovely sunshine once again.

This week marks the one year anniversary for Wishful Traveler Gallery! First, I wish to give my daughter, Erin, my heartfelt thanks and appreciation for all she has done this past year in regards to launching my art career into the modern day world of technology. Because of Erin, I have a wonderful website: www.WishfulTravelerGallery.com, with an online store where customers can purchase greeting cards, prints and posters with matting and framing. Erin did a marvelous job setting up this site, my Facebook page, Twitter account and the Saatchi Gallery in London, England. Her expertise in public relations and marketing has been enormously helpful. I also wish to thank the rest of my family and many friends for all their encouragement and support.

It’s been a great first year and many doors have opened up for me, some of which I never imagined would have happened, and others I never thought would happen so quickly. I never dreamed that my paintings would end up in a published book--but they did. The book is called, “Horse Sayings: Wit and Wisdom” by Bradford Wheler and can be bought from Barnes and Noble, Amazon and online stores. The book encompasses 60 horse artists from 11 countries, and I was fortunate enough to have three of my paintings chosen for the book.

I had hoped to one day be accepted into the National Association of Women Artist, but I never dreamed I would get in on my first try--but I did! One of my paintings was showcased for a month in the NAWA gallery in Manhattan, NY. I will be featuring more artwork in New York City in 2012.

I never dreamed that my art would find its way into the education system--but it did. First with a 7th grade boy in California doing a 1,000-word descriptive paper on my Colmar in Full Bloom painting, and just recently three of my paintings (Harbor’s Edge in Riomaggiore, The Light after the Storm and Side Streets in Annecy) are being used by a young man working on his Ph.D. project which involves neurological underpinnings of aesthetic experiences at John Moors University in Liverpool, England.

My artwork has been featured in 12 art shows, 3 of which I was the featured artist, a second place and 2 honorable mentions. Although I have painted for my entire life, this first year in business has been a very productive year, especially given today’s economy. I look forward to the second year doing what I love to do, painting and capturing the allure of Europe’s charming and enchanting street scenes.

Recently I had a very successful run at my local public library in Hamilton, New York. During July and August, I was the featured artist and found it to be my most successful exposure to date.

I was pleasantly surprised by the light and airy space on walls that allowed me to hang 26 of my coveted Italian and French oil paintings. There are thousands of books in this spacious room, but even they lent to the overall ambiance since all of the bookcases are no more than four feet tall, allowing one to see from one side of the room to the other in all directions.

The library is a bustling place full of all sorts of activities and with so much foot traffic flowing through on any given day my paintings enjoyed many onlookers including children. I’d like to think that perhaps my art has done something to inspire the next great artist of tomorrow.

Not only was the day-to-day exposure wonderful, but the publicity generated in local newspapers and word of mouth certainly didn’t hurt. As if all this wasn’t enough, the library held a reception open to the public on my behalf. It was a wonderful experience and my heartfelt thanks goes out to the cheerful and helpful staff of the Hamilton Public Library, most of all to Barb the head Librarian whose bubbly personality exuberates her passion and love for the patrons and library which are in her care.

I look forward to supporting my local library in the years to come.

Once again, I have forgotten where I put my glasses and this time I really need them. As usual my excuse is, “Hey sorry…but I’m an artist!”

We all make excuses for our mistakes and shortcomings, such as, “I’m sorry I have so much on my mind at the moment,” or, “Sorry I am having a senior moment,” or the all-time favorite which leads to multiple jokes, “Gee..she must be blond,” or, “I’m having a blond moment!”

Since I refuse to believe that I am probably having “Senior moments,” I have gotten into the habit of saying, “I am sorry but I am an artist,” or, “Well that is what happens when you’re working with an artist.” It usually works, I say usually because I find when it doesn’t work is when I am trying it on another artist. First of all, lets face it, I just insulted them and second of all, as a fellow artist they know better.

You may see us as a scatter brained, not totally together bunch of nuts. Well, to some extent you’re right, however; there is a lot more going on in that little brain of ours than you might realize. And since I have mentioned the brain, did you know that it has been said that while painting an artist has to think of much more than a brain surgeon does while doing intricate surgery on his or her patient.

Now before you think I have gone off the deep end, let me explain. I agree that artists should by no means be allowed to perform brain surgery in the operating room. However, the brain surgeon has a specific job to think about and a multitude of technicians to do the other necessary jobs around him. As an artist paints, the artist becomes the surgeon and all of those technicians rolled into one person. Not only are artists formulating what they want their masterpiece to look like, but all the while they have to think of mixing colors, balance, composition, brush stokes, brush size, palette knives, palette knife techniques, and the list goes on and on.

So as you can see, artists really do have a lot on their minds as the creative wheels turn in a multitude of directions, which to the outsider makes us appear as “Scatter brained.”

My daughter thinks I should wear a chain around my neck to hang my glasses from so I can easily find them. Thus far, I refuse to go down that road. Just a minute, hold on, there they are--I just found my glasses. “Well that’s an artist for you!”

I wake up every morning with the intent of finding some time during the day to paint, even if it is just for an hour. The next thing I know, I am making dinner and all tuckered out from a day packed with everything but painting. This is summer in Central New York, and if spring is any indication of how much painting I get done, I can expect a very slow go of it over the summer.

I also have to admit that it is rather hard to wish to be somewhere else, say Bruges, Rome, Paris, and all those wonderful little places in-between in Europe when we live in one of the most beautiful places on God’s good Earth. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t jump at the chance to hop a plane and skip across the pond for a few days but…

My time this week was filled up with picking strawberries, 60 pounds of strawberries to be exact (thanks to the helpful hands of my son). He didn’t seem to mind; between us we probably ate five pounds of berries while picking the 60 pounds that found their way to our house. By the way, you haven’t had strawberries until you have tasted our wonderful New York strawberries. Our soil and growing season make for some very sweet and juicy berries. Now I can replenish the freezer and fill all the jam jars I need for the year to come.

Then of course there is the daily chores entailed by owning four horses. The Gypsy Vanners are a great source of country entertainment. For instance, there is Keegan who has fun with the dish rag I have hanging on a hook in the alleyway. He likes to pick it up and drop it just so he can make me pick it up and put it back on the hook, this he repeats over and over again, that is until he got the idea that maybe he would eat it instead and had 3/4ths of it in his mouth before I could get to him and grab it, fearing it would altogether disappear in his mouth and he would attempt to swallow it. Geez, I better find out if there is a Heimlich method for horses? Then there is the van, my husband was unloading bales of shavings into the barn when Pete jumped off the embankment with only a couple of feet to spare from him and the barn, he wanted to see what was going on and took the shortcut (good grief). Tinker, the mischief maker is the only one who didn’t get into some sort of trouble this week. Even April, my Morgan mare, put me through my paces. I took her out riding one day this week, spending the last two hours of a four-hour ride on a very annoyed little mare who was being plagued by deer flies. She went from happy to get out to absolutely miserable toward the end. I can’t say that I blame her, I didn’t enjoy the few biting devils that got me either.

My husband got a nice octagon picnic table for Father’s Day and that has brought us outside more both at lunch and dinner time with summertime barbeques. The fountain gurgling in the background and flowering vines creeping up the trellis with the hummingbirds dive bombing around us has a bit of a, “villa on Lake Como” feel to it.

Last, there was the lightning strike that hit our Locust Tree again--who says that lightning doesn’t hit twice in the same spot? This time I saw the light, a little flash of light in front of my eyes. Too bad I don’t feel any smarter than before.

Anyway, I am not giving up, like Scarlet O’Hara in Gone with the Wind, “I’ll paint tomorrow!”

As an “armchair traveler” to Italy, having now spent years in Italy painting a vast array of Italian paintings, my cluttered thoughts of Italy are finally giving way to wonderful scenes from another great European destination, Bruges, Belgium, for my new collection of European landscape paintings.

I find it hard to believe how few people actually visit this wonderfully historic and charming city of ancient origins which date back to Julius Caesar’s conquest in the 1st Century BC.

With easy access to the sea, Bruges first bared the name Bryggja, steaming from the Old Norse Bryggja meaning “landing stage” or “port.” Bruges got its city charter in 1128 at which time new walls and canals were built. Fame came to Bruges first in wool which brought trade and shipping from around the Mediterranean Sea, which also linked it to the Spice route. All of this trade brought advanced commercial and financial techniques, and a flood of capital soon took over the banking of Bruges. It is believed that the first stock exchange took place in Bruges.

In the 15th Century, Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, set up court in Bruges and that attracted a number of artists, bankers and other prominent personalities from all over Europe. Incidentally, the weavers and spinners of Bruges were thought to be the best in the world.

However, within a hundred years the channel which connected the city to the sea began silting and Antwerp became the economic flagship of the Low Countries. During the 1700s, Bruges saw a glimmer of hope to become what it once was when its lace industry took off. In the 1650s, the infrastructure to the sea had been modernized but without much success. This was a last-ditch effort to bring Bruges back to its once economic greatness, and thanks to Mother Nature the triumphant city went from a thriving population of 200,000 to an impoverished population of 50,000.

Only in the second half of the 20th Century has the city started to reclaim some of its past glory. Finally, with modern technology a new port was built in 1907 and became one of Europe’s most important and modern ports. The charm of this ancient town has caught up with the world and is fast becoming an international tourist destination.

Bruges has a wonderful collection of Medieval and early modern art, which includes some world-famous Flemish primitives. Speaking of primitives, there is the mile-long religious procession which takes place annually with local inhabitants dressed as Medieval knights and crusaders carrying a relic of the holy blood, said to be the very blood of Jesus Christ brought back from the second crusade by Thierry of Alsace.

For me, the charm of Bruges is along its narrow streets, low archways, towering churches and ancient buildings, of which is reflected in its watery canal routes throughout this charming ancient city. I look forward to painting Bruges and sharing this wonderful European gem with you all.

The other night while flipping through TV channels, I stumbled upon a remarkable performance by Jackie Evancho on PBS on Great Performances called “Dream With Me in Concert,” which was filmed on the grounds of the Ringling Museum of Art in Sarasota, Florida.

As remarkable as this child’s operatic voice is, for me even more remarkable was one of the rooms in the art museum where she performed. This room showcases five large paintings by Peter Paul Rubens—my favorite painter.

Watching that little girl pour her heart--out singing as an angel with these glorious Rubens’ paintings as the backdrop transported me back some 42 years ago when I was 18 and my father and I visited the museum for the first time. I always had an appreciation for the great European masters, but walking into that room with these magnificent paintings seemed to resonate deep within my very soul and I have never forgotten them or the awe I felt while in their presence.

Of all the great masters in the art world, it is Rubens who holds a special place in my heart not only for his masterful brush strokes and brilliant, bright colors which bring life to his paintings, but also for the influence he has held over me in my own work, from my Americana paintings to my recent collection of European landscape paintings, which I strive to come alive in brilliant and bright colors.

I recently finished this Italian painting I have labeled, “Colorful Venice.” It has that old Europe feel to it that you get when painting a view of one of the main canals which Venice is famous for.

Painting this was a nice escape from our Upstate New York early spring weather which this year was one of our wettest on record. It was kind of fitting to be painting a scene of a city which is surrounded by water--don’t you think?

I recently watched In Bruges, a 2008 movie starring Colin Farrell that takes place is gorgeous Bruges, Belgium. I am now itching to begin a series of paintings from that charming Medieval town. I am surprised it doesn’t get more recognition than it does by tourists. Perhaps I will have some little influence on changing that issue.

Wow, where did this week go? My Italian Paintings sit on their easels looking about the same as they did a week ago. Too much is going on outside and that is one of the problems of living in a snow state. All winter long we are cooped up in our houses, so when spring finally arrives there is so much to do outside.

Our three new Irish Tinker horses are settling in nicely, having been here just over a week now. Wow--are they a lot of work! Don’t get me wrong, they are “easy keepers”, at least in the eating department, but in the grooming department that is a whole other story. I love their long thick manes and tails and all that hair (called feathers) on their legs is really awesome. However, there is a bit of upkeep to all these feathers and fluff. Fortunately I have discovered the world of gels made just for such horses that helps keep their manes, tails and feathers looking spectacular. Still I spend a good hour and a half each morning primping and cleaning four horses (remember I already had my little mare).

Speaking of which, she is just now starting to be on speaking terms with these three new horses. However, she is still in “time out” because I can’t trust her to play nicely yet, which means when they come in at night, she goes out.

Well I guess even my blog is being affected by all these goings on--I have to cut this short, time to put three well-groomed horses back in the barn and let out one disgruntled mare for the night. Maybe next week I will get more done on my painting and if not, I am sure I will have something to say about the vegetable garden I still have to plant.

It’s been a tough week for me living in to paint. For one thing, those of us who live up here in Central New York are enjoying all the beautiful Flowering Crab Trees which we have planted in our yards, and are now bursting in an array of pinks, reds and whites. Now the pinks and reds of the Flowering Crabs are being joined by the lavenders and purples of the many Lilacs that abound everywhere. Truly, this is a wonderful time to be living in Central New York—especially after a long, snow-bearing winter.

Spring is my favorite time of the year; it is a time of rebirth not only in the horticultural world but also in my life too. If you read my weekly blog, you know that it’s been a rough time for me the last few months having lost my loyal and wonderful friend, my carriage horse Ben. They say time heals all wounds and there is truth in that. Although I will never forget Ben, it is time to make new memories.

This week three new horses joined our family. They are Irish Tinkers, also known as Gypsy Vanners, a European breed established several hundred years ago in the British Isles and became popular among the Gypsies for pulling their wagons. They are wonderful horses with sweet and kind dispositions. They are extremely hardy and easy keepers. The heavy feathering on their legs gives them the look of floating along the landscape when they trot throughout the pasture. I look forward to working with them and once again driving along my beautiful countryside enjoying the Flowering Crab Trees and fragrant Lilac bushes once again. So no matter how I try at the moment, I am finding it hard to find enough hours in the day to sit at my easel and paint all those lovely scenes of Italy in my Italian paintings collection.

Around the country, it is college graduation time once again. As a Central New York artist living so close to Colgate University, my thoughts are with this year’s class. Many colleges and universities have traditions that they have followed for a long period of time, and Colgate is no different.

A tradition which started in 1930 and continues today is the Torchlight Ceremony. On graduation night, the Colgate grads conduct a processional down the Willow Path and around Taylor Lake while carrying light torches. At one point in the ceremony, the torches are thrown into the water extinguishing the flames, signifying the end of one chapter in the graduate’s lives and the beginning of another. It is also quite a moving scene for the spectator as one watches the lights bobbing along the Willow Path and reflecting in the still waters of the lake.

The Willow Path and Taylor Lake also have another tradition, well maybe not so much a tradition as a legend. It is said that whomever you kiss on the bridge where the Willow Path crosses Taylor Lake, is who you will eventually marry. Curiously there might be something to this for the number of married Colgate couples is higher than at most universities.

The painting of The Willow Path is just one of many paintings I have done around the Colgate University campus. All of my Colgate University art paintings are available for sale as originals, poster prints, canvas prints and greeting cards, and make wonderful Colgate University gifts for graduates. Some of these paintings are featured this month at Mad Art Inc., located in Hamilton, NY, where the paintings are now on display along with poster prints that are for sale.

I am so excited to share my newest art of the Mediterranean Sea, an oil painting of Venice with you. I think you will agree with me, it shows the beautiful canal city in a very good light (quite literally). This is one of my larger paintings at 28” by 40,” and was painted on linen, so chances are the painting will outlast Venice itself!

I have so many hours in this particular painting, that if I were really living in Venice it wouldn’t surprise me if it weren’t enough time to declare residency. That being said, you would think that I should be glad to see the end of it with the signing of my signature. However, that isn’t the case, in fact I rather lingered for sometime over it until I could do so no longer. On the surface, it seems spending so much time dwelling over this one painting should have something to do with a Central New York winter, which this year seemed to go on forever and ever. Secretly, this painting will always hold an extra special meaning for me for it helped me escape a personal tragedy, which hit home unexpectedly.

I went out to the barn one cold morning in February to feed my two horses, only to find my dear old carriage horse, Ben, dripping in sweat and gasping for air. Ten minutes later he passed away with me holding his head in my lap. I went from two very healthy horses the night before, to one very sad little mare missing her pasture buddy. I was in a state of shock and heartache I couldn’t face head on.

If it had been in the summertime, I would have escaped and found solace in my perennial gardens and lily pond, however, because it was in the middle of winter I wasn’t able to do that. As a landscape artist, I was lucky to be able to find refuge in a world far away from my reality on a beautiful little side canal in Venice. Working on the painting became a type of meditation for me. My senses were so heightened that even the colors seemed to be more intense than usual, I could hear the water lapping against the sides of the brick walls, and feel the boats gently rocking from side to side. I escaped so completely that even my face felt warm from the sun streaming in between the buildings.

With the first brush strokes, I couldn’t see another horse in my future but with the passing of time and a finished canvas, which seems to hold my very soul, I now can see a future with another horse sharing my life and a new friend for my sad little mare.

I found myself in Johnstown, New York, last weekend when I had the chance to go to the 95th annual conference of the New York State Archaeological Association with dear friends. I attended this conference last year as well, which was located in the Catskills. Because of my great experience last year, I was really looking forward to this one as well.

I have always loved old things, but I didn’t expect to find myself surrounded by art at the conference. It never occurred to me that archaeologists were also accomplished artists, or I should say, used to be accomplished artists. Sadly, with the use of the new technology of digital cameras, the old art of drawing is quickly becoming obsolete.

Of the 30 lectures given at the conference, all but one was PowerPoint presentations from digital pictures. The one exception was slides; however they were also of photos. It wasn’t until I got home and my girlfriend and I started digging through old records from the 1950s and 1960s that I found intricate drawings of Indian relics found around my house by a local archaeology chapter. I was amazed by the detailed drawings of these objects.

Thousands of years before my family left Massachusetts, and trekked over a much-used Indian Trail, Indians had been here in Upstate New York. The proof is in what they left. We know where to locate their longhouses, flints, cooking pots and utensils, which keep springing up out of the ground. Their history is intricately detailed in the archeological drawings, which inspires me to do more Americana art to showcase our beautiful region.

With the use of a digital camera, it could be that the drawings of the artifacts themselves that could end up as lost history.

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I have written my past two blogs about the royal wedding horse carriage and the people that drive them, now let’s focus on the horses that pull them. From the numerous records kept about the horses in the royal archives, it seems that chestnut-colored horses have never been used as harness horses in the Royal Mews (royal horse stables). Coincidentally, many years ago when I was taking dressage lessons, my instructor warned me to never buy a Chestnut Mare because they are high strung and act squirrely. Ever since then I have made a point of watching “Chestnuts Mares” closely, and my instructor was right. Apparently the folks at Windsor have come to the same conclusion.

Dun, cream, black, bay and grey horses have been used, roughly in that order, since the time of George II in 1727. The most famous of these colors were the creams, which were bred at Hampton Court from 1714 until 1920. Because of inbreeding and the impossibility of obtaining replacements, their use had to be discontinued. The blacks were used for a couple of years, only to be replaced by the bays (brown), which are still in use today.

Of the bays, the predominate breed is the Cleveland Bay. They are supplemented by a number of Dutch and Irish horses, and some Oldenburg horses from Germany. However, the Cleveland Bay is a favorite of the Queens. The breed originated in Cleveland, district of Yorkshire in England during the 17th Century. It is the oldest established horse breed in England. The breed was developed during the Middle Ages for use as pack horses, and were crossbred with Andalusian and Barb Blood which gave them a heavy frame. Later they were bred with Arabians and Thoroughbreds, which created the lighter-framed Cleveland Bay of today, making it an ideal riding and carriage horse. The breed was used extensively during World War I, pulling artillery and suffered great losses. Horses in general declined after the WWI due to mechanization and the Great Depression.

By 1962, only four purebred Cleveland Bay stallions were present in England. If not for Queen Elizabeth II who stepped in and purchased the stallion Mulgrave Supreme, the breed would surely have died out. Since 1977, Elizabeth II has been a patron of the Cleveland Bay Horse Society, even so the breeds status remains in a precarious position with a total population of purebred Cleveland Bays under 2,000 horses, and fewer than 300 registered mares (females) in existence around the world. This rare breed of horse will be making a significant appearance as both riding and carriage horse for the Prince William and Kate’s royal wedding later this month.

Lastly and most significantly will be the Windsor Greys. These royal wedding horses will hold the place of honor, pulling the State Postillion Landau which will carry both Prince William and Kate after the royal wedding. Ironically, even though they will be in the spotlight for this special occasion, they are not rare or particularly special in the horse world. For starters, the Windsor Greys are not a registered breed, as the Cleveland Bays are. What makes them special is their grey-colored fur. From Victorian times and earlier, grey-colored horses were always kept at Windsor (thus getting their name). Finally with the reign of King George V in 1910, they were moved to London and Buckingham Palace. The Windsor Greys are made up of many breeds of horses.

I have to say, as an artist that has an extensive collection of horse art, with a passion for anything in the world of horses, I am so looking forward to watching the pomp and pageantry which is about to ascend on us. I hope that these last three blogs will make watching what happens outside the wedding as exciting and enjoyable as what goes on inside the church. “Long live the horses. Long live the coaches, and long live the King (and Queen).”

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While everyone is talking about the Prince Henry and Kate’s royal wedding dress, food and jewelry, I am more concerned with the details about the royal wedding horse carriage. I have painted horse and carriage paintings throughout my career and the Royal Wedding inspires me to add more horse art to my collection.

The Mews
The word “mews” derives from the old French word “mue,” meaning a changing of coat or skin. In the Middle Ages, a “mews” was where the king kept his falcons while they were mewing or molting. The earliest Royal Mews was built in 1377 at Charing Cross, however that building was destroyed by a fire in 1534, and rebuilt as a stable keeping its old name, but with a new function. In 1762, King George III bought Buckingham Palace. In 1824, the mews there was redesigned into what we see today.

The Coachmen
The dress of the coachman is known as “Liveries,” of which there are four styles from Scarlet, Full State, Black and Semi State. Semi State will be worn for the Royal Wedding. The job as coachman will be a bit different for the royal occasion since there is no box or seat for the coachman to drive from. So instead of sitting up front and driving the horses, the two coachmen will be seated behind the coach, in what is called the jump seat, which got its name because the coachman can jump on and off quickly in order to reach the horse’s head in a timely manner.

The Postillions
The postillions, like the coachmen, have their own four styles of liveries; the Ascot, Semi-State (for the Royal Wedding), Full State and Black Liveries. There are several differences between the coachmen and postillion dress. The most obvious difference is the addition of a leather guard on the outside of the right boot. Since the job of the Postillion is to drive the coach from the near horses, the boot guard acts as padding to protect the rider from the far horse where he is seated.

The Royal Harness
The harness room at the Royal Mews is probably the finest in existence. There are several different sets of harness to fit the appropriate occasion. The historic State Harness, also known as the Coronation Harness, weighs about 110 pounds and is very richly ornamented with guilt ormolu. The Postillion Harness will be used for the Royal Wedding, and it is now going through the polishing process to ensure it is perfect for the big day.

Note: This is the second blog I have written about the royal wedding horse and carriage details. Click here to read the first blog.

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Who hasn’t heard about the royal wedding taking place on April 29 at the Westminster Abbey in England? We will all be tuning in around the globe to watch commoner, Kate Middleton, and Prince William, exchange their wedding vows. I say, “Commoner,” when referring to Kate, but there really is nothing common about her and certainly nothing common about the ceremony that will take place on that day. So much is being said about Kate, the dress, the cake and William, but not much is known about the horse carriages which will be used on that very special day. This is my area of expertise.

I have spent my whole life around horses and carriages, which has greatly influenced my artwork over the past 50 years with an extensive horse and carriage painting collection. In earlier years, I worked for a family who restored carriages. I have rebuilt wagon wheels, upholstered seats, built folding tops and worked my way through a ton of sandpaper. In fact, I have my own collection of carriages, wagons and sleighs, but of course it pales next to what is housed in the Royal Mews (stables) at Buckingham Palace.

There are over 100 horse-drawn vehicles in the carriage wing of the Royal Mews, and five of these carriages will be used for Prince William and Kate’s royal wedding. They are Landaus and quite appropriate for the occasion. It is a very sociable carriage because the two seats face each other which make the Landau a type of vis-à-vis. A Landau is a four-wheeled, convertible carriage. The soft, folding top is divided into two sections, front and rear, and latches in the center. Both sections can be let down so that they lay perfectly flat; however, the front section has the added ability to be completely removed or left in place.

The Landau carriage is typically pulled by either a pair of horses, or what they call a four-in-hand. It may or may not have a coachmen’s driving seat and when it does not have one, then there is the need for postillions. For each pair of horses, one postillion sits on the near horse (facing forward on the left side) and drives from the horses’ back instead of from the box seat of the carriage.

Kate has chosen the 1902 State Postillion Landau for her coach, which was built by Adams and Hooper for King Edward Vll and is the most magnificent example of the coachbuilders’ craft. This coach is driven regularly because it is the coach the Queen customarily uses to meet foreign heads of state. The coach is painted in a lighter shade of maroon than the other coaches, and is richly adorned with gold leaf and is upholstered in crimson satin. It will be drawn by six of the Windsor Greys (team of grey horses used by royalty) requiring three postillions.

The second and third carriages are Ascot Landaus, and will carry the best man, maid of honor and the brides’ maids. There are five Ascots in the collection. They are very elegant with basketwork (cane panel) sides, and are smaller and lighter than the State Landau that Kate and William will be riding in. Traditionally, Ascot carriages are used for the Queen’s procession up the course at the Royal Ascot race.

The fourth royal wedding horse carriage will carry Queen Elizabeth and her husband, The Duke of Edinburgh. This is the Semi State Landau of which there are also five of in the Royal Mews. This carriage was Queen Victoria’s favorite and was built by Barker and Company around 1866.

The fifth and final Landau carriage is also a Semi-State Landau, and was built by Peters and Company. This carriage will carry Prince William’s father and wife, The Prince of Wales and The Duchess of Cornwall, and Kate’s parents, Michael and Carole Middleton.

This is the first in a series of Italian paintings I am working on featuring Venice, Italy. Away from the hustle and bustle of the busy main canals, are the charming side canals. I love this scene for it has a very peaceful and tranquil feel to it.

I loved painting this scene because not only is it a quiet escape from the Grand Canal of Venice, but it was an escape for me too. While I was painting this scene, we were having our snowiest December since records have been kept.

The painting has a calming effect, you can almost hear the water lapping up against the tired and worn building, and you know I almost think I can hear an accordion in the background.

As an Upstate New York artist living a mere 45 miles from Syracuse, it’s hard not to get caught up in “Big East Basketball” and our Syracuse Orangemen. Now that my teams’ playing season is over, I began to wonder what happened to the University of Oregon Mighty Ducks and their first season on that artistic (and controversial) “Tall Firs” basketball court.

Back in November, I wrote a blog about the new basketball court at the Matthew Knight Arena at the University of Oregon. The court was turned into a painter’s palette as it is painted with a surrounding forest of “Tall Firs.” Many people wondered if it would be hard to spot the players amongst all of those trees. And fans wondered if the Ducks could pull out of last year’s slump and concentrate on their game without losing themselves in the intensely-graphic basketball court itself.

For the most part, Oregon fans love the new look of their arena and their “Tall Firs” basketball court. Basketball player Joevan Catron said, “It has everything an athlete needs or wants.”

Except maybe a center court line--there isn’t one! Perhaps that’s why this season wasn’t much better than last season. There is some discussion now on whether we will see a center line next season or not. Drawing the line might just be what the Mighty Ducks need.

I am so excited to be able to offer this special sale on “A Day in Portofino” at 80% off. The featured painting is one of the Portofino art paintings in my Italian paintings collection.

I fell in love with Portofino after my first visit there a couple of years ago. This quaint, charming fishing village has turned into a hot spot for tourists. By the response from you my viewers, it is evident that you love it too.

“A Day in Portofino” invites you into the painting to walk among the many cafes looking for that perfect bottle of Italian wine. "A Day In Portofino" gives a good overall view of Italian art from the colorful buildings to the cascading flowers draped over the historic buildings.

From March 17 to 21, you will be able to purchase a 16” x 20” print on canvas for only $65. Since this is a special sale, there will only be 10 available for this price.

Fine Art America is one of the largest, most-respected giclee printing companies in the world with over 40 years of experience producing museum-quality prints. The prints are done on state-of-the-art printers using acid-free premium glossy canvas and archival inks to guarantee that your print will last a lifetime without fading or loss of color. All prints are stretched on a wooden stretcher frame “ready to hang” with pre-attached hanging wire, mounting hooks and nails. Your print will ship within one business day. Click here to purchase yours today.

As a resident of Upstate New York, I can tell you that our winters are long and dreary. I don’t think a day goes by all winter when I don’t hear about Florida’s Disney World. It’s either a TV commercial advertising some fantastic deal you would be crazy not to take or the AAA Club magazine’s feature toting a wonderful family vacation to Disney World, to the subtle hints of great airfare deals to Orlando. I finally caved in and put aside my series of European landscape paintings that I have been working on, and began a painting of Cinderella’s Castle at Disney World.

I have been meaning to paint Neuschwanstein Castle, which I visited a couple of years ago in the Bavaria region of German, for quite some time. It is this famous German castle that Disney’s Cinderella’s Castle is supposedly fashioned after. Quite frankly, I never saw the similarity myself but I seem to be in the minority on that point.

I have to admit that I had a good time painting the Disney castle and why not, who doesn’t like Disney World? My favorite part of the painting was inserting six hidden Mickey Mouse ears into the painting. Having gotten Disney World out of my system (at least for the time being), I am once again transported back to Italy and painting the intertwining canals of Venice.

Often it is with regret when we have the opportunity to travel down “Memory Lane” and find things not quite as we remembered them. I had a different experience. My recent trip down memory lane brought back some wonderful childhood memories.

It was a transitional time in my childhood having left Central New York for the sunshine state of Florida. I was 10 when we moved from the small college town of Hamilton, New York, to the beach town of Fort Pierce, Florida. We went from an old wooden farmhouse to a cement block house, from acres of land to feet of land, from snowfall to rainfall, and a change of four unique seasons to hurricane and non hurricane season. The move south opened up a lot of new and rewarding opportunities for me, some of them I am still benefiting from.

Recently I had the opportunity to travel back to my childhood home in Fort Pierce and revisit the place of my youth made even more special for me since I did so with my two children and a childhood friend by my side. It’s been over 45 years since I have laid eyes on our first Florida home and we were lucky enough to find the home owner, Clementine, who graciously let us in and showed us around. The house, which was once shiny and new, has dulled to a well-worn patina under a relentless sun. I was taken by surprise how small the rooms were and couldn’t understand how the house had shrunk. Did it shrink under that insistent Florida sun? But it was evident that the old house is loved, and I left there with a warm feeling.

Our next stop was to the A.E. Backus Gallery and Museum. “Beanie” Backus was a famous Florida landscape artist who I was fortunate enough to have worked under. I have so many fond childhood memories of Saturday mornings sitting on the floor with a drawing pad and pencils in “Beanie” Backus’ living room sketching with a roomful of my peers. The lessons I learned from Beanie went far beyond composition and form. It was Beanie who taught me to think for my self and paint from the heart and to paint what inspired me.

Beanie’s passion was the seascapes and landscapes of old Florida, mine have evolved into French and Italian landscapes, cityscapes and seascapes. Not only did Beanie take us children under his wing, but he started a whole movement taking a group of discarded Black men under his tutelage, giving them painting supplies and teaching them painting techniques. They became famous, known as the Florida Highwaymen, by selling their artwork along the main highways in Florida. Looking around the museum, it is self evident that I wasn’t the only one Beanie influenced.

So for this French and Italian landscape artist, once again living in Central New York, the trip down memory lane was a positive affirmation of who I am today. The influence Beanie had over me as a child still governs me today and I am truly thankful for his guidance which had developed me into a European landscape paintings artist.

Since it is February and National Presidents Day is Feb. 21, it has made me think about the man behind the presidents. It is hard to think of George Washington without visualizing the famous portrait of him painted by Gilbert Stuart. In fact, Stuart painted each of the first six presidents (John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James Monroe and John Quincy Adams).

One of my childhood memories is stepping into any classroom at school and seeing a painting of George Washington, the father of our country, next to the American flag. You got the feeling the he was not only still watching over the country, but over you too.

The man behind the portrait was Gilbert Stuart from Rhode Island who lived from 1755- to 1828, and is recognized as America’s foremost portraitists. He is best known for the unfinished portrait of Washington known as the Athenaeum, of which its likeness is portrayed on the American $1 bill.

In 1795, Stuart at the age of 40, was granted permission to paint George Washington. Stuart discovered a technique for finding appropriate expressions and poses for the people in his paintings by engaging them in lively banter. Washington was a difficult sitter and Stuart's usual charm and repartee failed on him. Stuart finally found a spark in Washington by engaging him by chatting about horses, a favorite topic of the president who was an accomplished equestrian.

Consequently, Stuart found himself painting Washington with some urgency which produced a portrait of a vibrant and lively man, also placing Washington high up on the canvas conveys the feeling that Washington is towering over us. The fiery glow of a halo in the background brings the president to the foreground with a uncanny 3D effect.

Stuart made more than 100 likenesses of Washington and by the end of his career, he had painted over 1,000 American political and social figures. He was praised for the vitality and naturalness of his portraits, and his subjects found his company most agreeable.

In 1824, Stuart suffered a minor stroke, however he continued to paint for two more year until his death in Boston at the age of 72. He was buried in the Old South Burial Ground of the Boston Common. Sadly as is the case for so many artist while living, Stuart died penniless. In fact, he left his family deeply in debt therefore his wife and daughters were unable to purchase a grave site, and Stuart was buried in an unmarked grave. Years later when his family had recovered from their financial troubles they planned to move his body to the family cemetery in Newport Rhode Island. Sadly the family couldn’t remember the exact location of Stuart’s body so it was never moved.

I love painting Italy and as an Italian painter, I have painted Italy over and over again, although I have to say this was a unique painting for me to choose. I usually find myself painting Italian seascapes and Italian landscapes; I seldom paint an object by itself. That is until I saw this old and crumbling fountain in Italy.

I like the worn look of the fountain and I made sure to emphasize it throughout the painting. The plaster has either fallen away or is about to around a good part of the fountain. The predominant earthy tones of cadmium orange, yellow ochre and Naples yellow give the painting a warm Tuscan feel.

The fountain is bronze which would explain why it is in such a good shape and not falling apart, as the wall behind it is. The floor is slate and the contrast of the blue slats against the warmth of oranges certainly draws the eye inward giving it a 3D effect.

I enjoyed working on this painting, I kept thinking of Rome, Italy, and all those wonderful ancient fountains scattered throughout the city.

As a Central New York artist, I have a personal connection with the Colgate University Bookstore. When I was a little girl, back in the 1960s, the second and third floors of the bookstore were apartments and I lived in two of them at one time or another. I remember sleeping through the fire siren blaring from across the street from the first apartment. From the second apartment I could watch the sign man putting up the letters on the marquee above the movie theater, making me the second person in town who knew what would be playing that week.

Both Hamilton, NY, and Colgate University have gone through many stages of change—always reinventing themselves to adjust with changing times. In the 1800s, hops were king in the area and in the 1900s, the dairy industry exploded onto the scene. By the later part of the last century, we saw the small farms which dotted our countryside all but dry up.

In 1895, a huge fire destroyed most of the Hamilton’s business district; however, the village rebounded back better than ever and saw great economic growth which was a good draw for Colgate University. However, times change and by the beginning of the new millennium, Hamilton’s business district resembled a western ghost town. Something had to be done, and done quickly to save our town.

Colgate University stepped in to meet with local community members, and out of that meeting the Hamilton Initiative was born. The first thing they did was to turn the old 25,000 sq. ft. Vantine Studio into the Colgate University Bookstore. This was a brilliant move both for Colgate and the town; it made the bookstore more accessible to everyone and gave the village a much needed face lift.

The old Palace Theater was another huge project which was no small feat, as for many years it existed as a garage (my mother paid $10 a month to park her car there in the 1960s). This led to more renovations and before long, Hamilton went from a boarded-up downtown to a bustling shopping district with an ice cream store, new restaurants, art galleries and more.

It was with a lot of pride that I painted the Colgate University bookstore and while painting it a lot of wonderful childhood memories were relived. Out of the ashes the Phoenix rose!

It’s the middle of January, winter has really settled in here in Upstate New York. During the winter months, the routine doesn’t change much for this Central New York artist and things can become a bit dull if you let them. My world has gotten so small that I am beginning to see art where I am not so sure art exist.

This morning I finished feeding the horses and was walking back to the house with the two dogs in tow when Cuddles the Lab did something which I thought was rather creative. As Lab owners know, Labs always have several balls laying around to play fetch with and release some of their exuberant energy. For our Lab, it’s also crucial to know where all of her toys are at all times. This can be a bit of a challenge when your dealing with several feet of snow. However, she had her favorite green and blue balls sitting pretty out on the front lawn and in her mouth was her favorite red ball which after much thought she placed strategically with the other two. I got quite a charge out of watching her as she figured out the best place for that red ball to go and thought, “Wow, even Cuddles is creating art.” That is when I knew cabin fever had struck.

I am now looking ahead to what Benny, my big old carriage horse, might come up with when he’s outside during the day. I wonder what interesting shapes hay strewn over the snow can take on? Subconsciously, I must be dreaming of lazy summer days, watching clouds up in the sky and guessing what animal shapes they look like. Not that I care or anything, but did you know that spring is 59 days away?

While walking the dogs this morning I had an epiphany. I look forward to my routine walks with our two dogs and so do they. They love the freedom of wandering free over our Central New York farm fields following the various scents that cross their paths. In my own way I am doing the same thing, following wandering thoughts that are crossing my mind. Every once in a while I have an epiphany and I had one of these “ah ha” moments the other day.

I found myself thinking about what makes me different from the abstract artist and as I was thinking about that, the path I was walking on split in two and it was at that junction that I had my “ah ha” moment.

There are two types of artists, those who paint pictures of places with feeling and those who paint feelings into pictures. I fall into the first category. I paint places that exist with feeling. They are places that either I have been to or places I long to go to. I paint what I see realistically, grass is grass, a tree is a tree and water is water. My goal is to bring to life all of the emotions and beauty of an actual place to the canvas.

The second kind of artist, the abstract artist, paints feelings into pictures. These paintings come from the mind, they are abstract thoughts, thoughts portrayed with use of random colors and shapes which evoke different feelings and emotions depending on the thoughts of the one viewing the painting.

For me there is a sense of security in painting what one knows a connection with what I know exists. Perhaps the second type of artist dreams more and is less connected with the Earth. It’s going to take another long walk to figure that one out.

While out hiking my dogs this week, slogging through the drifting snow, it wasn’t all that was drifting, my mind was too. Once again I found myself thinking back to some of the wonderful experiences I had while visiting my daughter and son-in-law in Europe a while back. One particular experience rises above all others, literally; and that is Ulm Münster, the tallest church in the world. The equivalent of a 53-story building, Ulm Münster soars 528 feet into the air.

Situated in the town for which it is named, Ulm is in Bavaria and on a clear day the Alps are quite visible. I bravely attest to this as I climbed all 768 steps to the very top. I say “all” because I had to give myself a pep talk to climb the final stairwell to the very top known as the “Third Gallery,” a truly frightening experience but once at the top, the panoramic views made it a truly rewarding experience.

Architecturally, Ulm is a Gothic marvel which first began in 1377 and was finally completed 513 years later in 1890. As an artist, I deeply appreciated the 15th Century choir stalls which are among the most famous pews of the Gothic period. Made by Jörg Syrlin The Elder from Oak wood and adorned with hundreds of detail-carved busts. I marveled at the intricacy of the Oak carvings and the work it took to carve into the hard wood. The church is a woodcarver’s paradise for the intricacy and number of these carvings which adorn the inside of the great sanctuary, which seats a congregation of 2,000 people. In the Middle Ages, before pews were introduced, it could accommodate 20,000 people.

Another fact that I found amazing, is that the church still exists. During the height of WWll in 1944, most of Ulm was destroyed when a devastating air raid hit and destroyed 80 percent of the Medieval village of which the church itself was barely damaged.

It was nice reminiscing, but as the dogs and I walked across the last field and trudged up the final hill, I remembered that I had horse stalls to clean and eventually I had to come back down to Earth. It's winter, really winter up here in New York, and it's frigid cold with the snow mounting up in my driveway, but for a little while I was in Bavaria and this Central New York artist had climbed the lofty heights of Ulm Münster.

Yesterday I started 2011 off with my first art show where I was the featured artist along with two other artists from the New York City area. My show, "The Wishful Traveler" is showcased at the Earlville Opera House in Earlville, New York. It was my first show like this where I am the featured artist, and not just showing a couple of pieces with many other artists.

The room where I hung my collection of French and Italian art was a perfect fit, as the room boasts high ceilings and a bank of tall, arched windows which lined one whole side of the room. Several tables and chairs were scattered around the room, which were very inviting proving so by the way people came and lingered for some time enjoying themselves as they soaked in the European atmosphere which surrounded them.

I want to give a special thank you to Patti Lockwood Blais, Earlville Opera House executive director, who was so kind and helpful to me. She couldn’t do enough to make me feel right at home. Also, thank you to all of you who came to the opening. It was wonderful to see old friends and to make new ones, because of you the time flew by way too quickly.

This first experience was so much fun, I really look forward to doing this over and over again. And if you missed the grand opening and artist reception, you can still visit the gallery through Feb. 19. The hours of operation are Tuesday through Friday from 10 a.m.to 5 p.m. and Saturdays from noon to 3 p.m. Click here for directions.

What a great way to start the New Year--getting ready for the opening of my art show at the Earlville Opera House this Saturday (Jan. 8).

It has been a year-long process from submitting my work to acceptance and finally, the hardest part which was deciding on which paintings to show. I am thrilled to be able to share several of my oil landscape and seascape paintings from my French and Italian collections. The paintings I have chosen are some of my favorite far away places. My hope is that when viewed, the onlooker will visually step through the painting and travel along each scene living their own story as they visually walk deeper into the painting.

I am honored to be selected by the Earlville Opera House for this opportunity and it seems fitting that I am displaying my artwork here at the Earlville Opera House for I have grown up in the shadows of some of its history.

The historic Earlville Opera House is the third building to be constructed on the same site the previous two having been destroyed by fires before 1895. The current building, which was built in the late 1890s, gleams in architectural history and serves as a local community center for the arts. I grew up in Hamilton, New York, and remember several special occasions when my mother would take me to performances at the Opera House.

I look forward to seeing old friends and meeting new ones at the opening on Jan. 8 from noon to 3 p.m. The show will continue through Feb. 19. The winter hours are Tuesday to Friday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. and Saturdays from noon to 3 p.m. Click here for directions.

The most frustrating question I get asked as an artist is, “How long did it take you to paint that?” It’s a frustrating question, obviously asked by those with little artistic ability, and has no good answer. For the observer, it is an honest and easy question to ask, how else are they to gauge the monetary value of what they are looking at. But for the artist, it is not as easy to answer.

On one hand, there are all of the years leading up to the point of creating the painting. I have worked on some paintings for hours and hours, ending up with a mediocre creation (in my opinion) while every so often I end up with a masterpiece in a matter of a few short hours. Does that make that painting any less valuable because it didn’t take as long to paint? I think not.

It took George Gershwin three days to compose Rhapsody in Blue, one of the greatest compositions written by an American composer. Does that make Rhapsody in Blue any less significant because it only took three days to write it, or is it all the greater for it?

Should my work be valued by the hour instead of content or experience? If so, this New York artist would do better painting houses for a living.

I think the next time I am asked, “How long did it take you to paint that?” I will answer, “It has taken me a lifetime.”

The greatest gift from the Magi was, and still is, the gift of hope. Whether you wish to believe the story or not, undeniably the story of the birth of Jesus Christ and the Magi has done more to influence history than any other singular event.

This is the pivotal point in history not only for mankind, but for art itself. During this time, only the higher classes where literate and most of the known world remained illiterate. If the story were to be told and spread throughout the land, it would have to be done both orally and through art. Historically there is more art done of this one moment in time than any other scene in our known history.

Ironically, the gospel of Mathew never mentions who the Wise Men are, where they are from or how many of them there were. As stated in Chapter 2, verse 1- “behold, there came Wise Men from the east to Jerusalem.” Verse 9 says- “And when they came into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshiped him and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts: gold, and frankincense and myrrh.”

In order to prove the greatness of this singular moment in time, the Magi became synonymous with the birth of Jesus Christ. It is the significance behind the gifts they gave which pivoted Jesus on toward time immortal. Gold signified the Kingdom of God. Frankincense signified the priesthood for it represented the kingdom of God to ancient people who burned it believing it carried their prayers up to heaven. Myrrh signified that he was born to die for the world for it was Myrrh which was used at temple to anoint and embalm those into the Kingdom of God. Myrrh also was also an integral part of the embalming process used by the Egyptians.

Up to this point in history, the world was ruled by power, might and greed which crushed the common man. For the first time, the old order was challenged by the proclamation of a new king having been born of lowly birth and the world now had a choice between a God of power or one of justice.

Jesus’ revolutionary ministry is but a continuation of the Christmas story. The significance of his birth in the manger can be understood only by recognizing his sacrifice on the cross. Still it is Jesus’ resurrection on the cross that marked the ultimate fulfillment of God’s plan.

There are many conflicting stories surrounding the birth and death of Jesus Christ and the Magi but ultimately and undeniably the fact remains, whatever your beliefs are, the story of the life and times of Jesus Christ has done more to influence the world of art, science, politics, economics, self and society than any other one thing.

Until the 13th Century, scenes of the Nativity were only seen in 2 and 3 dimensional art. It wasn’t until 1223 that Saint Francis of Assisi is credited with creating the first live nativity scene.

Having recently returned to Greccio, Italy, from a Pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, Saint Francis desired to make his Christmas Mass extra special. Looking for a way to put more emphasis on the birth of Christ, and not the trappings of the Church St. Francis was inspired by the shepherds watching over their flocks on the outskirts of Greccio. Using them for his backdrop, next a cave on the edge of town became the manger setting. He then added people of the town dressed in biblical robes to what would be a live nativity scene. Hay was laid for ox and donkeys, and a babe was laid in a manger.

Saint Francis was so overcome and full of devotion for baby Jesus he could not speak his name but simply called him the Babe of Bethlehem. The whole affair took on a truly spiritual air and must be considered truth for the miracles which came afterwards confirm it as true. The hay from the manger afterwards was said to cure all diseases of cattle and many other pestilences.

Within a hundred years, every church in Italy was expected to have a nativity scene at Christmas time.

Since this is the Christmas season, I thought it would be a good time to take an artistic look at the Virgin Mary; for without her we would have no reason for the season. Perhaps there is no place in the world which has celebrated the Virgin Mary more than the city of Rome. You don’t have to go to Vatican City to find the Madonna--anyone who walks around Rome for any length of time can’t help but notice the more than 500 street shrines which adorn various buildings around the city honoring the Madonna.

Picture yourself walking home after a long day of work on a dark, winding street of Rome. Your only light source is an oil lamp, illumined by a glowing Madonna. As she smiles down at you, she is holding the baby Jesus in her arms with a host of angels surrounding her. She emanates love and peace, giving you confidence that she will protect you. The shrines are an integral part of Roman history and still play a huge part in daily Roman life.

The shrines take on many forms and no two are alike. They are made out of just about every material--canvas paintings, sculptures, frescoes, terra cottas and mosaics. Some are still bright, while others are almost completely faded away. They hang from buildings on a line that separates the ground floor from the second floor. To protect them against the weather, some have baldaquins (ornamental canopies) placed above them, however many can be found in good condition even though they have no protection from the weather, theft or vandalism.

There is no documentation of age for the present-day Madonnelle, as they are called, but most range between the 17th to the early 19th century. Many show a Baroque or Neoclassical influence, however there is still a handful can be found which date back to Medieval time. The first Madonnelle does not exist. Madonnelles were done by artists who were commissioned by wealthy patrons, but a good number of them were done by common Romans themselves. However, the populace saw no need to keep records to tell us who did what because it held no importance to them. The importance was in the representation, not the act itself.

To understand the importance of the street shrines, you have to know the history behind them. The idea goes back to the 6th Century BC when shrines throughout the ancient city depicted Pagan gods. The next phase began in the 1rst Century BC with the Emperor Augustus. He split Rome into 265 neighborhoods and organized each neighborhood around its own street shrine. At this point, the shrines took on a political meaning, changing from images of Pagan gods to images of the Emperor himself.

The next significant phase for the street shrines took place in 312 AD when Constantine converted from Paganism to Christianity, and made it the state religion. Now Christians had a legalized religion, but none of the grandeur and lavishness that a state religion should have. Up to that time, early Christians had hidden their art underground in the catacombs and consequently their art was very basic and unimaginative. With the recognition of Christianity and the Emperor’s lost divinity, the street shrines morphed into depictions of Christ.

Around 350 AD, the Marian Cult who worshiped Christ through the Virgin Mary, organized and repainted the shrines throughout Rome with pictures of the Madonna or Madonnelle. The early church objected and refused to recognize Mary as a central figure in Christianity, wanting to keep the power of the church tightly in their grasp. Their stance was to ignore the street shrines.

Around 400 AD, Rome was hit by several natural disasters which eventually caused plagues to erupt. For comfort, Romans turned to their street shrines for solace and soon miracles of the Madonnelle began to occur. Consequently, during this time the Church began to see its power slipping away and out of desperation, changed their views toward the Madonna with hopes of strengthening the Church. Finally, the Church who once ignored the Madonnelle began to promote her. She was allowed to be loved and adored as the mother of Jesus Christ, but she is not to be worshipped like a Goddess. The Church was very clear on this point. Furthermore, Madonnelles that proved to be miraculous, were brought inside churches and hung on consecrated walls. The more important figures would preside over enormous churches, and some had entire churches built for them.

The first-ever recorded miracle happened in 1577. The Madonna of the Lantern, located at the base of a church on the Tiber Island, stayed lit during a flood and continued to burn underwater. Common miracles performed by Madonnelle include weeping, bleeding and healing. As recent as 1976, starting on July 4th and lasting for three weeks, the Madonna Annunciata could be seen moving her eyes. In a city famous for ancient relics of a bygone time, perhaps the greatest miracle of all is that the street shrines are still in existence, not only do they exist but after 26 centuries hold a significant role in the fabric of Roman life.

As an artist and a historian, I have always had a great desire to visit Rome, Italy. It is a Mecca for historians and artist alike. There is so much to do and see there, one would need a month to take it all in, but my husband and I had five days. Even though we wanted to visit the famous Roman Catacombs which lay outside the city, it was impossible to work it into our schedule. However, we had a solution to this problem, before we left for Rome our daughter said “Be sure you go to the Bone Church while you’re there.”

The name, “Bone Church,” conjured up a lot of things in my mind. Granted, I already had a good idea of what we were in store for but the actuality of the visit was truly macabre and fascinating at the same time.

Far from the crowds of Vatican City and Ancient Rome’s Coliseum, Palatine Hill and the Roman Forum, is the Church of Santa Maria della Immacolata Concezione or better known as, “The Bone Church.” Located underneath the church there are six small rooms where more than 4,000 monks are buried. The remains of these monks, all of whom died between 1528-1870, have been sculpted into a gruesome monumental work of art with the skulls and bones being used for alters, chandeliers and ornamental wall designs.

When the Capuchin Monks arrived in 1631, they brought with them 300 cart loads of deceased friars and buried them under the church. Even the soil was brought in from Jerusalem. As more monks died, room had to be made for their bones and that’s where the Capuchins got creative, digging up the old bones and adorning them on the walls and ceiling in the crypt.

Over the next 240 years, the Capuchin Friars became artistic experts in interior design as they separated skulls, leg bones, pelvises and such, creating intricately elaborate columns, arches and floral designs in the crypt.

It is an incredible sight as you walk from room to room; there is the Crypt of the Skulls, Crypt of the Pelvises, Crypt of the Leg Bones and Thigh Bones and so on.

A bit of irony here, at the front desk Mother Theresa told us, “Do not take any photography, it is not allowed!” That being said, I looked around the entry room and noticed post cards for sale which could be bought for $7.50 each. That did it for me…game on Mother Theresa.We did manage to snap one picture, Mother Theresa noticed the camera flash coming from the crypt and came storming down the hall yelling as she went. Fortunately for us, she took her wrath out on a young couple who denied having done such an awful thing. We also looked horrified at the idea and passed questioning altogether by Mother Theresa and we were able to smuggle out our one photo of the crypt.

No bones about it, in a dark artsy sort of way, Rome’s Capuchin Crypt is an incredible and intense substitute for the catacombs of Rome.

I never pictured myself in a silverware factory surrounded by my art, but that is exactly where I found myself last weekend.

The old factory building is located in the small village of Sherrill, New York, and is steeped in history having been founded in 1880 by the Oneida Community. Oneida is a utopian society who existed longer than most due to the success of their lucrative business, Oneida Silver, grew and eventually could be easily found around the world. Unfortunately, through several greedy blunders at the beginning of the new millennium, the company was sent into the throws of bankruptcy and in 2005 closed its doors turning their backs on the hundreds of faithful employees who had devoted their lives to making quality silverware.

Thanks to a dynamic 25-year-old Jennifer Krawiec, what seemed a dismal ending has recently turned into an upbeat, trendy hot spot for the beleaguered village. Jennifer, an aspiring artist and native of Sherrill, saw a need for a place where artists could congregate and display their Central New York art. The old factory called out to her and she responded by opening Building 41 Gallery in the old factory building.

I spent a very pleasant evening, surrounded by some really creative artists and a most appreciative public. The crowd was made up mostly of a younger set, probably due to the genre of bands playing across the hall throughout the night. I was pleased by their interest and appreciation for the gallery and local art.

If the other night is an indication of the future, then Building 41 Gallery and Jennifer Krawiec have a very bright future ahead of them. Visit Building 41 here.

The Travel Channel has launched a new show called, "Mysteries at the Museum." It seems as though there are always mysteries unraveling inside Vatican City. The Da Vinci Code has some fun with their story lines stemming from this iconic location, but I wonder...what secrets and mysteries lurk at the Vatican. A big mystery occurred to me when I visited this landmark in 2008.

My husband and I found ourselves swept along through the vast corridors of the Vatican Museum, pressed in on all sides by a huge throng of people. The art was truly amazing and literally everywhere--on the ceilings, walls, and even the floors. It was a chaotic experience and one I would equate to a noisy cattle drive. The corridor went on for what seemed like forever, but eventually ended at a small doorway.

The door opens and almost before I know it, we are standing in the Sistine Chapel. All of the noise and chatter streaming in from the Vatican Museum mysteriously comes down to a stunned whisper as if on cue from a musical conductor. We stand in awe and reverence, whispering amongst ourselves as we take in the magnificence of the room. A feeling of peace envelopes us all until it is shattered by the guards who are standing under Michelangelo’s mural, “The Last Day Of Judgment,” screaming, “Silencio!”

As if shaken out of a dream, with a look of surprise, we stared at the guards disgustedly for distracting us out of our euphoria. Soon the whispers begin again and again the guards are screaming, “Silencio!” We found this happening every few minutes as more people made their way into the chapel. Ironically, the ones making the most noise were the guards themselves, which I found hilarious and had all I could do not to match their noise level with a fit of laughter.

After I could take it no longer, we ventured to the other side of the room and found ourselves in St. Peter's Basilica; where St. Peter is buried. St. Peter is perhaps the most popular of Jesus' disciples and is memorialized in time with images of himself hanging upside down on a crucifix.

Ironically, people were milling around in this most sacred edifice, talking among themselves using their street voices. There are no guards yelling, “Silencio” and I begin to wonder, if we don’t have to show St. Peter a tone of reverence, then just what is going on in The Sistine Chapel? Is someone buried under the Sistine Chapel the Vatican isn’t telling us about, and if so just who is it? The Vatican keeps their secrets close if something is amiss. History is safe for the Vatican will remain “Silencio!”

Having finished my French painting, “Eguisheim in Bloom,” I lingered on not quite ready to leave this lovely little village and found myself strolling down one of its back streets.

Although the scene is more subdued than my painting, “Eguisheim in Bloom,” it has its own special charm. The narrow cobblestone street is sheltered from a hot noonday sun and invites the traveler to enjoy the coolness of its passageway. Like a moth drawn to the light, so is the traveler as they walk in the shadows drawn to the sunlight at the end of a tunnel.

When I reach the other side not only is it a passage through a tunnel but also the end of a delightful journey. With three paintings now completed of this fairy tale village, I am now ready to move on and head back toward Italy for my next creation. At least for now I say a fond au revioir to Eguisheim.

Is it possible that my first visit to the Sistine Chapel, located in the Vatican which is the official home to the Pope, may be my last? The problem is real, the art is priceless. Each year over 4 million people stream through the Sistine Chapel to view the amazing Italian art. Although our spirits may be pure, our bodies are not.

There is great concern for the damage caused by the sweat, breath and dust which 15,000 to 20,000 people bring in with them everyday, which in a deadly combination swirls and whirls around the room ending up on the walls and ceiling polluting the notorious artwork.

Will the Sistine Chapel be closed to the general public with access only to the few bishops and cardinals who roam the halls? One solution is to limit visitors to a very few for a denoted length of time. In Milan, the visitor who wants to see Leonardo da Vinci’s, “The Last Super” must first pass through a filtration system in groups of 25 and are limited to only 15 minutes for viewing the masterpiece. Is that to be the fate of the Sistine Chapel? If so, the waiting list to enter the ethereal setting could end up as only a dream for most of us.

Another solution would be to find better ways of controlling the temperature and humidity in the sacred Chapel, I pray such a method exists or else my first visit to this truly magnificent room will most likely be my last.

I recently visited the charming, little village of Eguisheim situated along the Alsace Wine Trail in France. Saying that it is “charming” seems like an understatement because the senses are overwhelmed with the sites and smells as I walked along the winding streets through this medieval village. Walking among the colorful half-timbered houses competing with a botanical array of fragrant flowers is almost too much to behold. In such a surreal surrounding it doesn’t take much imagination to believe I am in a fairy tale.

At the end of my journey I pinch myself and realize I really have been living in a fairy tale world, because I actually haven’t left my living room at all, although I have just finished an oil art painting which has totally taken me in.

I hope the scene does the same for you as it did for this French painting artist. Enjoy the trip. From a wishful traveler, I hope you enjoy your journey as much as I enjoyed mine.

I am fortunate to live in the Northeast part of the U.S. where most houses have expansive attics. I went up in my attic the other day to look for an oil painting I had stored up there back a while ago. It took me a while pouring through all of my little treasures which I have accumulated over the years, but eventually I found my painting.

Coincidentally, the Duke of Devonshire was doing the same thing. Although he was slightly more successful in his attic finds than I was in mine. He owns a little place out in the English countryside called Chatsworth House. If you have watched the newest version of Pride & Prejudice, you’ve seen it.

At the end of the Duke’s rummaging, he came up with over 20,000 items for sale. Sotheby’s Auction House was more than happy to help the Duke facilitate and find new homes for his little treasures.

Among the items that went up for sale were a bow-shaped ruby and a diamond brooch which belonged to the Dowager Duchess of Devonshire. It was expected to bring £80-100 and sold for £8,500. The most expensive lot was a white marble chimney piece which sold for £565,250. The most unusual item was a Japanese lacquered table with legs covered in monkey fur.

At the end of the three-day sale, the Duke had made £6.5 million, at today’s rate in U.S. currency that equates to more than $10 million.

I am going back up in the attic now to try and find that little alligator purse I received as a kid on a family vacation in Florida. That should be worth something. By the way, does anybody have the telephone number for Sotheby’s?

College basketball may not be just for the sport enthusiasts this year as the art world is noticing a new canvas…basketball courts.

The old generic basketball court with its highly polished hardwood floor, team logos and boundary lines are what we have come to expect and very much take for granted. One court is pretty much like any other except for the logos and various advertising around the court.

The University of Oregon, the Mighty Ducks, has changed the playing field, literally. The university’s basketball team will be playing in the brand new Matthew Knight Arena this year, which boasts two practice courts and the concourse touts a state-of-the-art LED wrap around. The most amazing addition to the arena is the basketball court itself. The floor is a giant mural. Spectators will not only be watching their favorite players run up and down the basketball court, but will feel like they are sitting in a forest full of Fir trees.

The new floor is a tribute to Matthew Knight and Pat Kilkenny, who in 1939 led their team known as “The Tall Firs” to a national championship. The name, “Tall Firs,” was coined because the average height of the team was taller than most other teams of that era.

The graphics are made up of 225 interlocked panels and weighs 22 tons; it took more than 2,500 personnel-hours to complete and required 2 miles of stenciling material in order to lay the graphics down correctly.

It remains to be seen if this new design will help the Mighty Ducks pull out of a slump or will players find the design to be detrimental to their concentration.

As an artist, it is invigorating to see art being sprinkled into all facets of life. Americans especially spend so much time working; they often forget to enjoy the beautiful things in life. Now when you watch sports, you may be inspired or lose yourself in the artistic inspiration jumping out of the court.

Being a new member of Fine Art America, I am finding and enjoying much of what the site has to offer to the artist. Recently, I hosted a contest called, Beautiful Italy. Forty five very talented artists took up the challenge with their Italian art and entered 119 images to the contest which was then opened to the general public for voting. After 723 votes, the winners were chosen.

First place went to Ann Kleinpeter for Trip to Venice No. 2 (see photo) with 89 votes. Second place went to Sorin Apostolescu for Dolomiti with 72 votes. Coincidentally, third place also went to Ann Kleinpeter for Sunday In Venice with 70 votes.

Ann Kleinpeter is a self-taught artist and has painted on and off most of her life, starting with a paint set as a young child. As a child on family vacations, Ann was inspired by the beauty of our country but still dear to her heart is that beauty surrounding the rural countryside of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where she grew up and the fishing holes her father and her circulated.

Having seen Ann’s work, I was sure she had traveled to Italy and I asked her when, surprisingly she hasn’t been there yet but her life-long dream is to one day travel there. Certainly her desire for such a dream comes through in both of her paintings. Ann's objective while painting Venice was for the viewer to be drawn in and feel the emotion of being there, inspiring their own dreams.

Ann has a great passion for art and is excited about venturing into new areas and broadening her abilities into surrealism and portraits. In Ann’s own words, “I am so overwhelmed with joy and want to thank all of my voters for their support and my first win.” Ann is an emerging artist and looks forward to everyone viewing her work and hopes they enjoy it as much as she enjoys creating it.

Sorin Apostolescu was born in the little town of Azuga in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania. He has lived and studied in Romania and France and has exhibited his artwork in Romania, France, Switzerland, Germany and Italy. An international jury nominated Sorin for the prestigious art catalog International Contemporary Masters Vol. 4, World Wide Art Books, Ca.

When I asked Sorin what inspired him to paint his lovely Dolomiti painting he said, “I love the mountains and in particular the Alps.” While on one of his visits to northern Italy in 2008, Sorin discovered the Dolomites. While sketching this lovely jagged mountain range, Sorin was interrupted by a man who asked him if he could achieve a rustic painting from his sketching. From that challenge, Sorin’s beautiful painting Dolomiti emerged. Now Sorin goes back to these mountains and visits them as often as possible.

I want to thank everyone who entered their Italian paintings into the Beautiful Italy contest. As the host, I had a great time watching all of the wonderful art that came into the site and enjoyed meeting all of you and getting to know you a little better. Also I want to thank all of you who took the time to look at the artwork and placed your votes on your favorites.

A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words- European Art Paintings

Is a picture worth 1,000 words? That was the question 13-year-old John had when his 7th grade teacher challenged his language arts class to find a picture and describe it in 1,000 words. The project would count for 25 percent of the class grade.

The next challenge was to come up with a picture worthy of 1,000 words. That’s where I come in. I received an e-mail back a few weeks ago asking for permission to use my European art paintings, “Colmar in Full Bloom” for the school project. I have to tell you, I was deeply touched and honored to think a 13-year-old boy I did not know had thought enough of one of my paintings to pick it for his school project.

At first thought, coming up with 1,000 words doesn’t seem to be a difficult thing to do but when digging deeper, it’s just words--no sentences, paragraphs or stories, just words. The project became quite an undertaking incorporating nouns, verbs, adjectives, colors and even a smattering of French to round off the list.

I realize now that without knowing it, when I am working on a painting a good part of those 1,000 words are floating around in my head, it’s part of an exhausting painting process. It’s also part of what bonds us as artists to our work and I am sure in the end John feels as close to this one painting as I do, for we both became very deeply involved with the scene while working on it.

Well done John, thank you so much for choosing my work and the periodic updates with your progress on the project.

I paint every day and the experience can be very intense for me so I look forward to the daily walks with our two dogs Cuddles and Sherlock when I can clear my mind for a little while. I also get great inspiration while taking these country walks and yesterday was especially nice what with the unusually mild temperatures for late October.

Usually both dogs look forward to these walks as much as I do however yesterday Cuddles the Lab wanted no part of the routine so the walk became more of a bonding time for Sherlock and me. He is such a sweet dog and as the picture shows, yesterday was pretty darn nice.

One morning a few days ago, I walked out of the house to the sight of falling leaves and flying geese, a true sign of fall. The frosty field by our house had been converged upon by hundreds of Canadian Geese who found it to be a good place to rest and congregate. Between geese flying in and geese already on the ground, it was a real traffic jam and I might add quite noisy with much honking and vying for personal space.

I was reminded of my “Country Traffic Jam,” a few days later as I was traveling along a busy stretch of highway in the city of Syracuse on my way to an art show north of the city. It was late afternoon on a Friday and there I was, stuck in a huge traffic jam crawling slowly northward toward my destination. As I was inching my way north, it gave me time to think about all those Geese in tight formation inching their way south towards warmer climates for the winter.

Creeping along with all the city dwellers flocked around me, I decided that I would much rather have to deal with the country traffic jam vs. the city traffic jam.

Having spent some time in the romantically enchanting city of Paris, it is hard for me to fathom why a Parisian would elect to leave and never come back. However, that is exactly what happened to Mrs. de Florian, who in her youth had been a demimondaine (a woman supported by a wealthy lover.)

Seeing the writing on the wall shortly before World War II converged on the city of Paris, de Florian hurriedly fled the city. She locked the door of her posh apartment finalizing that time of her life and never returned. She spent the next 70 years in the south of France.

The final door closed when earlier this year she passed away at the age of 91. However, with the closing of one door, another door opened. The apartment had been left undisturbed for 70 years, and was finally reopened in order to settle de Florian’s estate.

Like in the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty, it was as if time stood still. A treasure trove was discovered under decades of dust but most surprisingly was the discovery of a painting by the famous Italian-born painter, Giovanni Boldini. Giovanni’s fame was as well known in Paris as Sargent’s was in London. The found painting was of de Florian’s grandmother, a beautiful French woman who artistically held great influence over Boldini. The painting was a new revelation, having never been properly cataloged however a reference of the work was found in a book which the artist’s widow possessed saying it was painted in 1898 when Miss de Florian was 24.

The painting recently sold at an auction for €2.1 million, a world record for the artist.

So my question is: How much will my art work be worth 100 years from now? I think I will put one painting aside, of my choosing, give my daughter the key and just for good measure leave a personal note which will read, “Hi honey, here is the key to your inheritance.”

This new discovery of the "Lost Pieta" painted by Michelangelo and found outside of Buffalo, New York, in the home of a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel made me think back to an experience I had a few years ago.

Both stories start out similarly for they both concern officers in the Air Force and both stories involve priceless works of art, but it is here that the two stories go their separate ways. The retired lieutenant colonel always knew where his painting was. I took two Air Force captains on a wild goose chase through Cologne (Koln), Germany, looking for my masterpiece. Both my daughter and son-in-law were serving in the Air Force at the time as captains and serving overseas in Germany.

On this particular day we were enjoying what Cologne had to offer. By chance I found out about a painting by Peter Paul Rubens, (my favorite painter) which was hanging in St. Peter's a Gothic Jesuit Church some distance from the city center. A map of the city was put into the capable hands of my son-in-law and off we went winding through the streets of Colonge. Eventually we came to what appeared to be our destination, however we could see no way into this edifice. The courtyard gates were locked and what church doors we had access to were also locked. That would have been enough to turn most sane people around and head back to the Christmas Market which was a big draw back in the city center, but wait--we are talking about Peter Paul Ruben here, my hero and I wasn't about to give up so easily.

Soon I saw a man walking past carrying a brief case and with my all but non-existent knowledge of German, I asked him "Pardon me-Rubens-Church?" and pointed. He shook his head yes and with a nod of the head we began following him, which led us around the building next to the church where he proceeded to ring a doorbell. Now I had no idea what we were in for so I repeated my question once again, he only shook his head. "Okay guess we will wait,” I thought. Pretty soon we hear footsteps approaching the door, someone unlocks and opens the door, there standing in front of us is a middle-aged woman looking at us questioningly. The man speaks to her and she waves us inside. Now the three of us are totally confused, here we are in what appears to be the inside of an apartment building on our way to see what has become the allusive Rubens painting. She motions us to follow her which we do, we wind through a kitchen with a door on the other side which upon opening lands us in the sacristy of a Medieval Church.

Wow we have arrived, now where is the painting? The walls are bare, pews are pushed against the back wall, and there’s nothing here. Our hostess speaks very broken English which is way better than my German, so I ask her. "Rubens-painting?” She points to the front wall where a tarp is hanging from the wall and says there. I ask her if we can see it and she says they are renovating, it must stay covered!

Again a road block but I am not giving up. I am on the hunt now and so close to my prize I can smell it. I give it one more shot and with a sad face I say, "Rubens" point to myself and say, "New York."

She smiles a little smile and motions us to follow her. We get close to the covering and miracle of miracles, she lifts the tarp which hides this priceless piece of art work done by Rubens. It is of St. Peter hanging upside down on the cross. We are allowed to get so close to it I am sure we could have touched it if we chose to, but we just stood there in awe. Here we were inside a little known church in this vast city of churches all alone, enjoying the art of a master. It was almost like for a little while it belonged to us for no crowds were there to claim our space. After a bit we thanked the kind lady for giving us this personal look and were on our way.

The three of us were rather quiet going back to the city center, I think it had struck all three of us that we had just experienced a very special moment in our lives.

One of those hidden little perks of being an artist is that I get to travel all over the world without a passport! Today I finally wound up my visit to Riomaggiore, Italy, of course I did this from my home in Central New York.

It's been a pleasant experience. The scene I have been working on for the past few weeks brings back many fond memories of a day spent hiking from village to village along the National Trail in Cinque Terre. Putting my signature on the canvas brings a sense of sadness however for it marks the end of a journey; which with each stroke of the brush kept the memory alive of that magical day.

Fortunately, I have many pages yet to fill in my passport book and I look forward to filling my pages with many more beautiful paintings of this area of Italy and visiting each of these five wonderful little villages again and again. So for now it isn't Arrivederci but Ciao until next time.

I went to the movies yesterday with a couple of girlfriends to see the new 3D movie, Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole. I was blown away by the artistry. It’s absolutely awesome and extraordinary down to the last detail. Not only is the detailing on the owls exquisite, but the backdrops totally reminded me of the Hudson River painters of two centuries ago.

Artistically speaking, the movie is a true inspirational experience and when you add the music and the story to the mix, this is one very good movie to see.

For some, learning a new language would be easier than learning to paint a picture. I think you know where I am going with this already. I have always wanted to learn a second language and after traveling in Italy where the language was coming to me readily enough, I decided that Italian will be my second language. I am finding that painting comes much easier than Italian, but then I have been painting most of my life.

I have been immersing myself in all things Italian for months now, and so far the easiest part is eating the food (who doesn't like eating Italian?) I love music so now when old Frank sings Volare I can sing right along with him. I love history and now I know what the guy on the horse on top of that huge monstrosity of a building in Rome did. His name is Victor Emmanuel and he unified Italy and became its first king under unification. You can see the building all over Rome, the locals like to call it, "The Wedding Cake," (see photo below.)

I study every day practicing with CDs, workbooks and immerse myself in Italian movies so my language skills are coming along rather nicely-when I am alone. Then why is it when someone actually speaks Italian to me I go completely blank? Is this normal?

My daughter called last night and the first thing she said was Bouna Notte, I was caught completely off guard, she might as well have been saying good night to me in Russian. However I will persevere and maybe someday when my daughter says "Buona Notte," instead of freezing I will naturally say, "Buono Sera" or "Ciao;" which I say to you now until next time. Ciao!

One of the nice little perks about being an artist is that you don't have to be somewhere you don't want to be. You can use your imagination and go anywhere you want, without actually doing so.

Friday was lovely here, the sun was shining and the trees were showing early signs of brilliant color. It was a great day for a picnic and a nice long walk with our two dogs, Cuddles and Sherlock. I even had a couple of friends tag along to share the beautiful day. Needless to say, not much painting got done.

Today is damp and dreary, even the dogs look rejected lying on the couch. It's a good day to be somewhere else. So I am spending the day in Equisheim, a quaint village in the Alsace Region of France on what is world renown as, The Wine Trail. I say, “quaint little village” because it has all of the charm of a Medieval village and rightly so since it dates back to 720.

While it is raining outside, in my little world I am basking in the sunshine, as I paint an array of colorful half-timbered houses with an over abundance of flowers, all of which are erupting in a kaleidoscope of color.

When do you know you have finally arrived in the art world? When all of those hours, years and hundreds of canvases later you are on top of your game? The answer to that question is, you know you have arrived when you find your work has been stolen. Yes that's right, stolen!

It's so exciting, how many artist can say that they have had their work stolen! In a dark and strange way, it is like the highest compliment one can get about their own work, when someone else desires your painting badly enough to steal it.

The painting is of Kappa Delta Rho fraternity house at Colgate University, and was hanging over the fireplace in the reception room on the first floor.

So at this time I cannot say that I have work hanging in the great galleries of the world like some artists can, but how many of them can say, "Oh by the way, one of my paintings has been stolen." You've gotta love it!

*The painting in this blog is Kappa Delta Rho fraternity house, but it is slightly different than the painting that was stolen. This painting is still available as an original, print or greeting cards.

Yesterday morning was a beautiful late summer day and warranted an extra long walk with our two dogs Cuddles the Lab and Sherlock the Collie. I wasn't the only one that thought the day was beautiful.

On my way back to the house I could see in the distance a car parked over to the side of the road and at first I thought probably someone was on their cell phone but as I got closer I could see a man was just sitting in his car. If I had been alone I would have approached the car with trepidation, but having two big dogs with me gives me a sense of security. As I walked passed I said, "good morning, it's a beautiful day isn't it?" He answered with, "I love watching these fields." I agreed they were beautiful for truly they are, the alfalfa fields are vast, emerald green and endless or so they seem. As I walked past him, my spirits soared for here was someone else who was overcome with all the beauty I enjoy everyday.

Rain came early in the afternoon and I found myself transported back to Italy and the small village of Riomaggiore painting with the alcove scene of stacked boats down by the little harbor. Vita e bene!

Not only is today a brand new day but it's the first day of what I hope will be a very successful career, my new website "www.wishfultravelergallery.com" has launched! It's very exciting and I look forward to filling the site with the pictures I love to paint from home and around the world.

I owe all of this to a wonderful daughter who has put endless hours into this project and just happens to be top notch in her field; which is in Public Relations, how lucky is that!

I am so excited to share this new site with all my friends and family and look forward to making many new friends around the world.

I hope you have a wonderful today-I know I am! Ciao Char

Today was spent putting in a kitchen counter top with my husband and mowing. As gratifying as all that is, my mind is never very far from all the wonderful pictures that are filed away in my mind ready to jump onto canvas.
The painting I am working on now is of a lovely little village called Riomaggiore. The village is one of five in a string of villages which makes up Cinque Terre National Park in Italy. The region is especially dear to my heart, having spent a memorable day hiking from village to village along a narrow trail hugging the Appennino Mountain Range and overlooking breath taking views of the Mediterranean.
Riomaggiore is the last village one comes to on the day-long hike. Winding through the narrow village streets one ends up looking through an archway where boats are stacked and ready for the next days fishing excursions. This is the scene that I am now working on. I wish I could physically be there however working on the painting is the next best thing, in my mind I am there.

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