The snow and cold is here. Those high summer trees in the photo are now naked and dormant. Their phloem, like mine, went below. Outward expression for the hardwood tree in winter might be a squirrel’s nest waving in the wind. Mine is a flannel shirt and an indoor dandruff flake storm. “Welcome the ‘intellectual season’,” the old timers used to say.
I say, “Bah, Humbug!” No, it’s just a spider bite on another moonless night.
Last night was different—a bitter cold for late November, but a cloudless, windless night and a full moon. “Tomorrow I will end the exhibition,” I thought. “On a high note”. This past week Lena sold two paintings. I sent her the money and felt like the greatest success I will ever be for a start of winter. Brian and Cathy messaged for the man in yellow peering into the water. They are patrons supreme and I am thankful for their support and renewed friendship. The talented Milton stopped by in the evening on the same day. Eric was over for a drink to celebrate his birthday, and Milton must have thought us entertaining gurus as I poured him a double Manhattan, and talked excitedly about the genius of Lena Ulanova.
He settled on Miles Davis in blue and viridian.
And Eric also purchased an Ulanova piece on opening night, the one we used in Manhattan to introduce Lena’s genius to the people of New York, outside the millionbillion dollar art bubbles pretending painting omnipotence.
These are people I prefer to share Lena’s work with. Tried and true, and giving back to me, and far away to Lena and her people, the wonder of life and personality to last as long as memory will allow. A painting (and painter) connects and cajoles the beholder to the past, especially so when the buyer gets involved in the process, and knows the painter by enthusiastic curation.
Lena Ulanova Entrainment was a great success because of people—local, regional and so far away, convincing by our presence the aliveness we all share together. Few can look up at a full November moon and suddenly commune with two painters five thousand miles apart, yet also connect themselves in the same memory of wine, food, song and autumn exhibition, as my friends and new friends have.
Owning a van Gogh today can only be self pride in its ugliest state. Vincent didn’t work for you nor ever hope you wanted him. Hanging an Ulanova in your parlor is living homage paid to the artist in your life. My friends and friends-to-be deserve this more than any museum does a master.
Thank you to everyone who made Lena’s first U.S. solo exhibition a wonderful memory. I intend to pass on the rest of her paintings to contemporary homes that matter. And I will pin this post and keep it here until every last painting has connected with persons who will connect with Lena because each made a difference in the life of the other.
I will be available for several weeks to take orders. Please visit site for holiday shopping. I will deliver a painting to please!