The Artist’s Journey and the Angel Statue

“The Omi Angel”

Dear All,

At this time of year,  I always like to reflect on my grandmother (we called her Omi) and how Dan began the journey of his art career. I should say how it began in earnest–he was always doing something artsy and creative. The photo of the Angel looks very much like my grandmother, we call the angel, The Omi Angel.

It was close to Christmas, many years or many moons ago, and I had a dream about my grandmother. Borderline disturbing and very Steven King. Omi was standing on a local bridge (a bridge that people have committed or attempted to commit suicide), and she was completely enveloped in white, gray, misty fog at night. Hazy lights were shining in the background, and the fog was swirling around her. She stretched out her hand to me and beckoned me toward her. As I watched her, I didn’t think that it was a hot idea. Actually, I was thinking how about I wake up now. But she smiled and I figured what the heck, it is only a dream. And all she said to me was “Buy a camera”, and then poof she was gone. No chance to debate this order, and an order it was –very authoritative.

By now it was the middle of the night, when I woke up and I was very eager to share my experience with Dan. Since it was so late, not a good idea, and anyways I was afraid that he would be very cranky getting a 3:30 am wake-up call. When he is sleep deprived, he has no sense of humor.

Of course, first thing in the morning I told him, and we pondered the meaning of this dream. It made no sense; I was not the least bit interested in a camera for myself. A watch was on my wish list, and I was looking forward to one.

We had the family over for Christmas Eve, our tradition at that time, and we always opened up the presents then. I could hardly wait to see my watch. To make sure it was the correct one, I had given the store instructions (called the store myself to make sure they still had it), regarding the exact watch that I wanted. That watch was definitely under the tree.

Dan said to our daughter, “Watch your mother’s face”, as he hands me the package. It was the very last present of the night. It was still in the air, as I ripped the wrapping paper off of it. Excitement plus! The paper fell away, and the camera greeted me. Oh (naughty word) no watch, and my daughter is laughing. “Did Dan forget your injury?” In an accident, I had lost partial usage of my right hand, and a camera could not be manipulated by me. I explained my dream and the order from Omi–“Well, if Omi told you to buy a camera, then I guess you get a camera.”

That camera was constantly used by Dan to shoot landscapes, and catch that wonderful artistic light.  He always asked my permission to use my camera. We loved what he was composing and documenting. He enjoyed the photography, but painters had always been around him in some way,and  it was a natural progression to think about painting. Slowly the  artist of oil paintings emerged, and his love of nature and the water is very evident in his compositions. This artist is constantly evolving, growing and learning about his craft.

Dan still has the Omi camera, but we have progressed to better cameras and lenses for his needs. The camera has become an extension of him, and a tool for his art. This all began because of my dream, and many times when we are making decisions, Dan will ask “See Omi in your dreams lately?”

You never know where a path will lead you–you just take the journey. The journey is the excitement of the trip, and we are enjoying Dan’s artistic journey.

Wishing you a Happy, Healthy and Peaceful Holiday Season and New Year! Merry Christmas!

Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)

Photograph of Omi Statue was taken by our son, Daniel C. Dahlstrom, who also is an artist.

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The Farewell Ride on the Becky Thatcher

Hello everyone,

“The Becky Thatcher Underway on the Connecticut River”-Fine Art Oil Painting by Daniel S. Dahlstrom

Inspiration for this painting came from where? Simply put…Dan needed the Becky Thatcher as the subject for his next painting. This composition was being entered into a juried show, which was being presented by the Essex Art Association and the Valley Railroad. The Becky Thatcher is part of the tourist attraction of the railroad and the riverboat. So off to the Deep River Landing we headed (not too far from our house) looking for a good view of the boat. Dan wanted a painting of it underway on the river, just coming from behind the island, and so we waited and waited for the boat to be underway–it was docked for the longest time. I sensed that the boat was waiting for something or someone, and it was–a very special passenger, in spirit anyways.

As we were waiting, we realized so much laughing and partying was coming from the gazebo. At the landing is a lovely gazebo overlooking the river…great spot to read, visit with a special someone or reflect, and in this case, it was a memorial service for someone who loved the river and spent time on it, and family and friends were enjoying their memories (with much enthusiasm) of this departed soul. “The Becky” was waiting to give the final ride on the river, and it was a lovely time to be underway….the enthusiastic group became subdued as they boarded the vessel, and the river also complied by becoming very tranquil and hushed for this very special occasion. I watched as “The Becky” pulled out from the dock, and began this journey.

I love that Dan captured this final ride on the Becky Thatcher, and that we were part of this fun service from a respectful distance.

My River a poem by Emily Dickinson

My river runs to thee.
Blue sea, wilt thou welcome me?
My river awaits reply.
Oh! sea, look graciously.

I’ll fetch thee brooks
from spotted nooks.
Say, sea, Take me!

Wishing you all a good one!

Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)

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How Winter Inspired “Winter’s Magic on the Marsh” and a Poem “Dust of Snow”

Hi all,

We are galloping toward Christmas and more snowy days…..


“Winter’s Magic on the Marsh”

So where did the inspiration for this composition develop?

On a January morning, after a light snowfall, Dan was out and about photographing the glistening ice and snow. It was a very cold morning, the kind that made your nose freeze every time you took a breath. For those of you that have not experienced that kind of cold, open up the freezer door, stick your head in, and take deep breaths. Keep it up until you get a brain freeze. It was that kind of a freezing cold morning but beautiful–like a winter wonderland–the air had a smell of purity and the snow was so bright–almost blinding.

Another painting was being established in Dan’s artistic eye and mind. Down by the marsh, the morning sun was beaming on the snow creating interesting shadows and a morning glow in the background. The neutral darks against the vibrant purples was a dramatic portrayal of the marsh and surrounding area. And at the marsh, the peace and quiet was deafening. This serenity is what Dan’s goal is with his work. You can almost step into the painting, and feel at peace.

The winter New England landscape is perfect for dramatic paintings–darks against stark, brilliant whites and shadows of trees, buildings, rocks on the snow and ice. To make the painting not a cold piece, he warms his winter palette with purples, greens and reds, and of  course, the light. A friend, who visits from down South, loves to come to New England in the winter just to see the rock formations and the lay of the land. That is the beauty of being an artist–what you see and what you think you see and to relay that to a viewer.

Dan keeps adding to his “Magic of Winter Series”, and constantly catches that magic on his canvas. But I must say, in New England that magic is short lived. After a few major snowfalls, we are not happy campers and Florida sunshine seems very inviting. And the conversations turn to questions of why we live here–unless you happen to be a skier or snowboarder.

Galleries want snow scenes in the beginning of the season, and by February floral landscapes are more in demand, and more, than not, do not want to see a snow vista. But we love the landscape of winter, and the magic of the snow and ice.

Poem for you to enjoy:

Dust of Snow by Robert Frost

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Robert Frost was one of America’s most popular 20th Century poets. He was born on March 26, 1874 in San Francisco and died on January 29, 1963.

Quote by Frost:


Us…Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)

Wishing you a good one and see you next time!

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“Snowbound” poem by John Greenleaf Whittier Matched with Oil Painting “Winter on Ashlawn Farm” by Daniel S. Dahlstrom

Hi all,

Love pairing up Dan’s work with a poem, and discussion of his inspiration in creating a particular painting.

"Winter on Ashlawn Farm"
“Winter on Ashlawn Farm” (Connecticut)

On a day, filled with the cold air of winter, Dan and I headed out to scope areas for paintings–looking for the light and composition of places. Ashlawn Farm always presents itself worthy of material for a painting. While studying at the Lyme Art Academy, Dan learned about this farm, which is an awesome farm used by instructors for their Plein Air classes. It is located on Billhill Road, and someday I will research how this road came to be named.

It was late in the day, just when the winter light was creating purple shadows on the snow. The farm was peaceful and quiet, as if taking a nap. Against the snow covered fields, the red of the barn was popping, and in the distance the cows were just standing and waiting–probably for dinner. It actually was a perfect postcard of New England, and would be a great addition to Dan’s series of winter paintings. In this moment and setting, we were looking at the inspiring force for the next composition to be created. The question always is whether or not this will turn out to be a good composition, but one has to start to find out.

This piece of artwork is framed in an antique looking, deep black and gold frame. We use an excellent framer, George, who owns Wholesale Frames out of Meriden, Connecticut. His website is attached to Dan’s website: wwwdanielsdahlstromartist.com. Please stop in and say hello–nice people there. It is always enjoyable to work with George, and they are tuned into the need of their clients.

Wonderful poem by John Greenleaf Whittier: (an editor and poet)

Snow-Bound [The sun that brief December day]
John Greenleaf Whittier, 1807 – 1892

The sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.
Slow tracing down the thickening sky
Its mute and ominous prophecy,
A portent seeming less than threat,
It sank from sight before it set.
A chill no coat, however stout,
Of homespun stuff could quite shut out,
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,
That checked, mid-vein, the circling race
Of life-blood in the sharpened face,
The coming of the snow-storm told.
The wind blew east: we heard the roar
Of Ocean on his wintry shore,
And felt the strong pulse throbbing there
Beat with low rhythm our inland air.
Meanwhile we did your nightly chores,–
Brought in the wood from out of doors,
Littered the stalls, and from the mows
Raked down the herd’s-grass for the cows;
Heard the horse whinnying for his corn;
And, sharply clashing horn on horn,
Impatient down the stanchion rows
The cattle shake their walnut bows;
While, peering from his early perch
Upon the scaffold’s pole of birch,
The cock his crested helmet bent
And down his querulous challenge sent.

Unwarmed by any sunset light
The gray day darkened into night,
A night made hoary with the swarm
And whirl-dance of the blinding storm,
As zigzag, wavering to and fro
Crossed and recrossed the wingèd snow:
And ere the early bed-time came
The white drift piled the window-frame,
And through the glass the clothes-line posts
Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.

*

As night drew on, and, from the crest
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west,
The sun, a snow-blown traveller, sank
From sight beneath the smothering bank,
We piled, with care, our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney-back,–
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout back-stick;
The knotty forestick laid apart,
And filled between with curious art
The ragged brush; then, hovering near,
We watched the first red blaze appear,
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam,
Until the old, rude-furnished room
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom;
While radiant with a mimic flame
Outside the sparkling drift became,
And through the bare-boughed lilac-tree
Our own warm hearth seemed blazing free.
The crane and pendent trammels showed,
The Turks’ heads on the andirons glowed;
While childish fancy, prompt to tell
The meaning of the miracle,
Whispered the old rhyme: “Under the tree,
When fire outdoors burns merrily,
There the witches are making tea.”
The moon above the eastern wood
Shone at its full; the hill-range stood
Transfigured in the silver flood,
Its blown snows flashing cold and keen,
Dead white, save where some sharp ravine
Took shadow, or the somber green
Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black
Against the whiteness at their back.
For such a world and such a night
Most fitting that unwarming light,
Which only seemed where’er it fell
To make the coldness visible.

A quote by John Greenleaf Whittier for the season at hand:

Our dog, Symphony, admiring the tree:

Us…Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)
Wishing you a good one!

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Art and Poetry, Inspiration, “Roses on the Kitchen Table” and a poem by George Eliot

Hi all,


“Roses on the Kitchen Table” an oil painting on linen by Daniel S. Dahlstrom, Chester, Connecticut Artist

“So where does Dan get his inspiration for his paintings?”, a question that we are frequently asked. Sometimes it is as simple as a class assignment, but the artist still has to feel a connection to the subject matter. Thus, the journey to “Roses on the Kitchen Table” begins….

Where did the inspiration for “Roses on the Kitchen Table” come from? This original oil painting of “Roses on the Kitchen Table” was inspired by a still life class, and Dan felt that the flowers looked as if they were picked by his grandmother from her garden, and placed in a glass bottle on her kitchen table-so this scene brought back memories of his childhood. When you look at this painting, don’t you feel as if you have been transported back in time to an old fashioned kitchen?
This painting was strictly composed by using the palette knife-giving the roses strength of color and depth and richness of chroma. Dan’s goal was to create a very old world feeling with this rendering of the flowers. You can really see the depth of the palette knife strokes, and the dimension added to the canvas.

Wouldn’t this make a wonderful Christmas or Holiday gift, and a great addition to your decor?

I always like to pair up a painting with a poem:

Roses
by George Eliot

You love the roses – so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet: and it would be
Like sleeping and yet waking, all at once.

Interesting quote and thought for today:

Wishing you a good one and would love to hear from you…thoughts, comments or just hello!

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“Winter Shadows on Ingham Hill” Transports You to Another Time and Place

Hi All,


What happens when you gaze upon a piece of art? Let’s say a painting for example. Are you transported to another time or to another place? And what feelings do you find yourself having-happy, sad, angry, peaceful or wishing for a past experience? Would love to be in this time for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner…”I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.”

The inspiration for “Winter Shadows on Ingham Hill, 1800” came as a result of an old photograph collection that Dan inherited many years ago from his uncle, who was quite the history buff. We came across this old snow scene of Ingham Hill-the location is not too far away from our house.Dan wanted to capture that old timey feeling and the peace and tranquility of that era. Where does the painting “Winter Shadows on Ingham Hill” take you?

Can you hear the peace and quiet of this time in history? The landscape was a place of tranquility, and I’ll bet the only sounds you would hear are the bells jingling from the sleighs and perhaps a dog barking. The sleighs traveling, the road by the house, would be muffled by the snow-no snowplows in that day and age to wake you in the wee hours of the morning-perhaps just the sleigh bells and the soft thud of the the horses’ hoofs.

Looking at this painting, transports us to a mountain in Vermont-a place where we had a very romantic sleigh ride (with a bunch of other people) on a moon-lit winter’s night. The stars were so bright-you could almost reach up and touch them. “Winter Shadows on Ingham Hill” always make us think of this particular trip. This snow scene makes us feel as if we are in Vermont on a February week-end at Mount Snow.

Many years ago, we ventured to Vermont and Mount Snow for an annual ski trip, and we stayed in the same lodge-right on the slopes of Mount Snow. We took our son, who was into snowboarding, and Dan (the artist) was into skiing. They would spend the entire week-end enjoying the snow, scenery, and the exhilaration of the mountain.
I, on the other hand, stayed in the lodge, and enjoyed a good read and the staff-I enjoyed visiting with them. Our room, had a balcony, which overlooked the slopes, and I would head out (cup of tea in hand), and wait for them (father and son) to make their way down to a designated point on the mountain, at a designated time. At this point, I could see them (provided they had on very colorful head gear), and they would wave and I back. I would return to the warmth of the room, and they to the arms of the mountain.
Dan and I would always have one night to ourselves, and the “child” would enjoy many snacks and many movies in the room-everyone was in a land of bliss. One night, we decided to do the sleigh ride (it wasn’t that cold and there was no wind), and I have always wanted to do a sleigh ride at night. So off we went-it was so enjoyable, and so much fun!
On the top of the mountain, the driver stopped for a pit-stop. I never miss an opportunity to take a pit-stop-what a long walk to the outhouse, and our driver announced “watch out for any critters.” Dan asked, “Do you really want to do this?” I told him “Keep walking” and I shouted over my shoulder “Please don’t leave!” I was sure that we walked for miles, and the outhouse was very cold and a little windy in there-very drafty. The whole time, I kept thinking about mountain lions, bears, and any critters that go bump in the night. We laugh about this adventure, and reminisce about that week-end, whenever we view this painting-transporting us to a crystal clear, snow covered February night in Vermont.
The painting is a Connecticut scene around 1800, but it makes us think of Vermont-so art can bring you anywhere or make you feel anything. It does not have to be what the artist painted or envisioned to make you travel in your memory or to conjure up your feelings.
Do you have some piece of art that makes you think of a special day or event in your life?

Wishing you a good one and Happy Thanksgiving!


Us…Nancy, the blogger and Dan, the artist

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Inspiration for the Oil Painting “Winter’s Night in New England” Coupled with Poem by Robert Frost “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

Hi all,

Very brisk November day here in Connecticut, and Dan is heading to Cranston, RI to deliver (3) paintings to the Fine Art Gallery for their upcoming Holiday Show.

Updates on what is happening in the world of Dan’s art:

“Winter’s Night in New England” an oil painting by Daniel S. Dahlstrom, Connecticut Artist

What inspired Dan to paint this composition?

As usual, inspiration came from one of our excursions-we were heading back from dinner, at an excellent restaurant, and the light, shadows, and water caught his attention. And as usual, out came the camera (it is always with us), and planning of the new composition began to take hold of his attention. Lucky for him we had already eaten, and I was content to sit in a warm car, just about napping. A New England winter’s night can be very captivating and magical with a fresh, blanket of snow and deep shadows cast across the landscape. Dan’s composition is structured around that winter’s night, and depicts the essence of the landscape and the season.

Now this painting, with two others, is heading toward Rhode Island for a holiday show– “Holiday Boutique Show”–this was a juried show, and we are excited to have some of Dan’s work in this Holiday Event.

Painting with frame:

Invitation to Holiday Show:
Show runs from November 29 (Friday) to January 9, 2015 (Friday)
Opening Reception on November 29 (Saturday) 5-9:00pm

Thought you might enjoy this poem by Frost:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROST
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost was born March 26, 1874 in San Francisco and died on January 29, 1963 in Boston, MA at the age of 88.

Quote by Robert Frost:

Subject matter of painting that Dan is working on:

Will keep you posted as the painting progresses….

Wishing you a good one….

Dan (the artist) and Nancy (the blogger)

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Pratt-Wright Gallery, “Red and Yellow Umbrellas” and Poem “I Saw from the Beach” by Thomas Moore

Hi everyone,

Happy November–it’s a good month, my birthday, my son’s birthday and Thanksgiving. Let the festivities begin.

Dan has some of his work in a new gallery to us-the Pratt-Wright Gallery in Groton (Noank section of Groton), Connecticut. One of the pieces is the “Red and Yellow” oil painting:


“Red and Yellow Umbrellas” oil painting by Chester, Connecticut Artist-Daniel S. Dahlstrom will be in the Pratt-Wright Gallery Holiday Show 2014 from November 29-January 3, 2015. There will be an Opening Reception from 10-6pm on November 29th, and will be featuring dozens of artists and artisans. Will be fun and a great place to holiday shop!

Pratt-Wright Gallery, 48 Main St, Noank, Connecticut 06340
Phone: 860.912.0555
The gallery can also be found on Facebook….hope you get a chance to check them out!
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We are frequently asked about the thought process of planning a painting, and so this is how “Yellow and Red Umbrellas” came about-

We spent a wonderful summer’s day at this beautiful Massachusetts park, and enjoyed our afternoon on this awesome beach—so summer with the beach umbrellas, grasses, pathways and sailboats. This was a painting waiting to happen, and thus began the inspiration for “Yellow and Red Umbrellas”. It conjures up childhood memories of napping under the umbrella and playing in the sand and watching the sailboats—happy, carefree days—lazy, hazy, crazy summer days (something like that).

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Following is a poem–it is fun to find poems to match with Dan’s paintings, that is my creative thing.

“I Saw From the Beach” by Thomas Moore

I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o’er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o’er that beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.

And such is the fate of our life’s early promise,
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;
Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us,
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.

Oh, who would not welcome that moment’s returning
When passion first waked a new life through his frame,
And his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,
Gave out all its sweets to love’s exquisite flame.

I love the painting of Thomas Moore. Following is some info about him:

He was born on May 28, 1779 in Dublin, Ireland and died on February 25, 1852 at the age of 72 at the Sloperton Cottage, Bromham, Wiltshire, England.
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Inspirational thought for the day:


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Wishing you a good one…


Us-Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)

Teaser: Dan’s next painting

This is our dogwood tree decked out in Fall colors….looking forward to seeing the painting.

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“Gardens at Parmelee Farm” a Fine Art Oil Painting and Poem by Robert Frost “October”

Hi all,

Been some interesting October New England days here…..windy, rainy and crisp air. Today leaves falling, air is crisp, and a little bit windy, but the sun is creating a wonderful golden hue on the trees—Dan not able to paint today, and not happy!

Dan working on the Parmelee Farm piece

Completed painting “Gardens at Parmelee Farm” (Killingworth, CT)

Parmelee Farm was purchased by the Town of Killingworth, Connecticut in 2000. The farm has 131 acres, which includes wonderful trails for hiking, walking, bird watching or horseback riding. It is also a place that the community can plant gardens. This painting depicts one of the gardens and barns, and will be on display at the Essex Library, Essex, Connecticut during the month of November 2014. Dan is the Featured Artist for the month, and there will be a “Meet and Greet” at the library on November 8th…Sat in the afternoon. Light refreshments will be served.


Essex Library, Essex, Connecticut

This will be Dan’s next painting, and will be on display at the library. It is an iconic scene of Essex, Connecticut. The ducks are rushing toward him because they thought he was going to feed them. So bad!

The size of this canvas is 24″ (w) x 36″ (l), and he is now prepping the canvas, which is linen. Will keep you posted of the progress.

October by Robert Frost

Robert Frost was born on March 26, 1874 in San Francisco, CA and died on January 29, 1963.

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost–
For the grapes’ sake along the wall

Wishing you a good one!
Us…..Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)

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Art Exhibit by Daniel S. Dahlstrom and “Meet and Greet” at Essex Library Association in Essex, CT and Poem “The White Birds” by Yeats

Hi all,

New exhibit happening, for Dan, at the Essex Library in November 2014. Particulars following:

"At Alert"
“At Alert” A Fine Art Oil Painting by Daniel S. Dahlstrom, Chester, Connecticut Artist

Art Exhibit by Daniel S. Dahlstrom (Featuring Oil Paintings/Pastels of Local Scenes and Still Life)

You are cordially invited to attend an art exhibit and “Meet and Greet”

Where: Essex Library Association–Program Room and Main Floor, 33 West Avenue, Essex, Connecticut 06426
When: November 3 to November 29, 2014 for the Art Exhibit
Hours: Library Hours (Please check for hours 860.767.1560)

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“Meet and Greet” Reception for Daniel S. Dahlstrom

When: November 8, 2014 (Saturday)
Time: 1:30-3:00pm in the Program Room

Light Refreshments will be Served! Public is invited!
Hope you can attend!

Essex Library, Essex, Connecticut

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Poem by Yeats:

The White Birds
BY
William Butler Yeats (June 13, 1865 to January 28, 1939)

I WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!
I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;
Soon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!
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Thought for today…..

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Wishing you a good one!


Us–Nancy (the blogger) and Dan (the artist)

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