The foot of snow from the past couple of days looks so much cheerier with the sun out. Instead of endless grey, color is back...on the brick walls, the evergreen ivy and pine trees, the blue sky. Hallelujah! Now I can go into the studio and work on the horses I've been working on without feeling closed in and troubled by the howling winds of yesterday. Here's another of my favorite artist, Elmer Bischoff. This one evokes the grey sky of yesterday, but there is still something to look forward to here. The colors of the rooftops, the bay, and yet it is a mournful painting.

What I love about this painting are the simple (seeming!) shapes and colors and how they remind me of my childhood in California. The subtle colors...the sometimes stormy sky. Yet even though, with the green trees popping up through the rooftops, it reminds of my home now on the east coast. Double melancholy!

To MFA or not to MFA, that is the question...

The past week I've been wondering about whether or not to pursue an MFA at 60 years of age. Should I? Is it worth it? Will it effect my art journey in any way? On the one hand it would be fun. I'd get to almost everyday, all day long. I'd get to attend classes, which I love to do. I'd be able to have my work critiqued by fellow artists and professors. I'd understand the 'secret' dynamics of the art world. On the other hand it would cost a lot of money and time. And for what? At this age is it worth it? The thing is, I want to show my work in decent galleries across the country. Mainly because I have so many paintings they need to go out into the world! Right now there are hundreds floating around my house, leaning against walls, stacked in the basement. Good paintings. Paintings people like! And yet here they are collecting dust. So here is my dilemma. What to do with the rest of my life! Meanwhile I search for artists, whose work I admire, checking their credentials, seeing how I stack up.

One of my favorite artists, David Park, didn't even finish college, yet wound up teaching at UC Berkeley. He so dedicated to painting that he couldn't stop himself, and that dedication was enough to be recognized. It wasn't about a degree, rather about the work. When did it all change? In the 70s, when I was getting my BA in Art, the work was the important thing. If it was good, said something, it was enough. Then all of a sudden, in the 80s, it changed. Was it at the same time when art was becoming a commodity? Um. Perhaps yes. And perhaps it's sour grapes on my end. If I'd only... So. What to do.