I started this post during the first day of losing power during the big cyclone bomb blizzard that entirely knocked out electricity on Cape Cod. With hurricane force winds, the storm was terrifying, especially when the transformer blew and turned the predawn sky neon lime green. All of my windows were coated with snow so I couldn’t see what was going on. I also couldn’t open the outside door downstairs because snow had piled up against it. I’ve been through New England blizzard blackouts before, but we usually got power back within 24 hours. Which did not happen this time. 63 hours, without heat, lights, WiFi or a working stove ended with me curled up under a blanket on the sofa in my down coat, a wool hat, a puffy vest over several sweaters, two pairs of leggings and Uggs. When the power came on Wednesday evening, I was desperate for a hot shower but waited until the morning because it was still freezing in my apartment. That shower, and washing my hair, was heaven. And it was only later that day that I learned the full extent of the storm’s impact on Provincetown. Numerous utilities poles had snapped in half or fell over. Live power lines were on the ground, broken tree limbs were everywhere. Repair companies came from others states to help. The team I watched repair the pole across the street were from New Hampshire.

In the meantime, while I was trapped in the house, I did the piece at the top of this post. It’s the biggest bird yet and I titled him Zhivago because of the weather. Right before the storm, I did the landscape above. Paul has convinced me I can combine the landscapes with the birds by hanging them next to each other instead of integrating them into one piece. In fact, while considering how to hang the charcoals for my solo show at the Commons this spring, I saw context and narrative in several groupings. Speaking of context and narrative, here are photographs from the windows project. The side wall on Freeman Street, has the feeling of stained glass church windows. The birds could be saints, although I think of them as guardians. The front facade is more intimate, as the birds address the viewer to welcome them to town or into the building.

I’m happy to report that the Provincetown Office of Tourism sees this as a permanent installation, so if you’re ever on Cape Cod or in town, you will have the chance to take a look for yourself. It’s at 330 Commercial Street, and if you travel from east to west, you can’t miss it. Onward.