02 Feb Forest Daffodil in Rain – Jacki Kellum Watercolor – I Love Forests and the Rain
I am caught in a trap of spending every dime that I have and more to maintain a decently-sized house that is situated about 5 houses down from the New Jersey Shore. From the standpoint of real estate, I am in a great location, but if I had my way, I’d be living in a little cabin in the middle of a forest, and such is my plight.
“Unpretentious like wood that has not been fashioned into anything;”
Author: Lao Tzu
In the same way that I like forests, I like wood–just plain wood. I like to look at it, and I like to smell it. I added a sunroom to the back of my house, and I opted to cover the walls with old-fashioned, tongue-and-groove, knotty pine boards. When I was a child, we had a knotty pine room in our house, and I have always wanted one for myself. There is something honest and real and tangible about rooms that are built from wood. They seem to bring a bit of the forest inside.
As is usually the case, the name Forest Daffodil came to me when I was almost finished painting this flower. I began by merely painting a daffodil blossom that was resting in a cup of water, but the forest seemed to grow as I painted the flower. By the end of my painting session, Forest Daffodil not only looked like a forest to me. It looked like a forest in the rain, and forests and rain are my two favorite things in this world.
No doubt, the world can be divided into groups regarding a few issues. For example, there are the cat lovers, as opposed to the dog lovers; and while some people love hot weather, opposites do not. In the same way, there are also the rain lovers and those who do not love the rain. I am a person who loves the rain.
Because it was at camp that I learned to love much about nature, I feel sure that it was there that I learned to love the rain. Even as young children, the kids at my camp slept in cabins that hardly had exterior walls. At least 2/3 of each cabin was screened, and it was almost as though the campers were sleeping in the very arms of nature. On cooler nights, the evening’s vapors would filter through the cabins. Regardless of how deeply I dug into my sleeping bag on rainy nights, I could feel the cool, damp sensation of the camp’s cleansing night air, and I loved it.
When the nights grew very late at camp, I would often hear small animals picking through the leaves outside the cabin’s walls. It always seemed that whippoorwills and owls were perched no more than 5 feet from my bed, and I always felt as though everyone else in camp was asleep, and I was lying awake, listening to the sounds of nature, all alone.It was a feeling of being alone and yet, not lonely.
That phrase probably summarizes my life, and that is probably why I love forests and the rain. Rain is moody, gray, and wears a feeling of aloneness. Forests are shady and dappled with sunshine that pierces through the dark canopy of the leaves, here and there. The dappled light in a forest makes me feel that God has elected to shine on my space.
At my camp, the cabins had galvanized metal roofs–or tin roofs. I loved to hear the rain, filtering through the trees and then tapping the tin roof and sliding from it, one drop at a time. The softer rains would ultimately pierce through the crust of leaves that lay on top of the ground. The leaves would rustle, crackle, and fizz, and the dust on the tree leaves outside would be moistened, filling the air with the aroma of wet earth.
When it rained hard at camp, the trees got involved with the ceremony and waved their arms, shook their heads, and swayed wildly. Like savages dancing around a ring preparing for a bountiful hunt, the trees would toss spears into the air and would fiercely hurl things about. A tree limb would occasionally scrape across the cabin’s metal roof, and it would screech, as it slowly etched its way along the top of the shelter.
Also when it rained hard, the drops of rain would pound the tin, and the belting would become a roar. Torrents of water would form at the edges of the galvanized roof and would flood, like water being sloshed from a tub, down to the ground below. The river of rainwater would get behind piles of leaves and branches on the ground, and it would push them further downstream.
When the rain was not pouring, I liked to put on my squeaky, new rubber boots and my cold, stiff raincoat and walk outside. I loved the way that a misting rain would form on the exposed parts of my body. When there were actual raindrops falling, I liked to feel them pat my face and then roll.
Like Mother Nature’s bathtub, rain is how the world is washed clean, and when I am in the rain, I feel that I am being cleansed, too.
In my bedroom now, my bed is immediately next to a window that I frequently open to allow nature to come inside. Every time that it rains, I pull the glass back and I listen–and I feel.
Not ago, I wrote a post, naming all of the things that would happen, if I were filled with magic. Following is one of the things that I said:
If I were filled with magic,
Everyone would hear the rain tap on their tin roofs–and they would feel,
And no one’s roof would leak.
I guess that about sums it up. I love forests and the rain. They replenish my soul.
A few days ago, I wrote a post, explaining that when I make art, it has to mean something to me. I said that if paintings never assume a meaning for me, I toss them. In my opinion, they are shallow. http://jackikellum.com/how-does-a-painting-mean-the-titles-of-jacki-kellums-paintings-speak-volumes/
As soon as I understand what my paintings mean to me, I title them accordingly, and that is what happened with my painting Forest Daffodil in Rain. My titles help people understand the meaning that I associate with the things that I have painted, but I am using this blog space to fill in any blanks. Color is a great communicator, and as you compare the colors of various of my paintings, you will begin to comprehend the diversity of my moods, in my many-colored world. For instance, contrast the mood of my painting Sunflower with Blues to that of that of my painting Night Lily, and then, compare the moods of both of those paintings t9 my painting Frest Daffodil in the Rain.
Fine Art America sells prints of my paintings.
Fine Art America has dozens of frames that you might use, and you can elect to have any size or color mat that you like, too.
In the above image, you see the Jacki Kellum watercolor painting Forest Daffodil in Rain printed on canvas that is stretched on a wooden frame. The canvas prints are delivered ready to display with hanging wires, mounting hooks, and nails.
Fine Art America also offers a full range of decorative items that are printed with my paintings’ images. The accessories printed with Forest Daffodil in Rain are unique. I like them.
The tote bags come in 3 sizes and are available in either cotton or polyester.
The customers can select whether they want the image to be placed vertically or diagonally on the phones, and it is rather neat to see the types of close-ups and slices of art that are possible, simply by changing the phone’s orientation. By the way, these phone cases are made for every cell phone. And regardless of which phone case that you buy, you must also buy its matching portable battery charger, which allows you to recharge your phone or tablet when you are not near electricity.
By the way, the pillows come in 8 sizes and are available in either cotton or polyester. You can buy the pillows either with or without inserts.
The Gigantic Towels Come in two sizes:
32″ x 64″
37″ x 74″