Cattle were Lowing

“The Christmas spirit is simply an honest spirit of love for all humanity. It is the force that moves us to give what we can, to help as we are able, and to always be of kind comfort.” ― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons

One of the dearest scenarios of my childhood is being in the barn, with my grandfather, Dewey Smith, while he milked his cows.  The barn was warm and a lovely aroma of hay and cows.  Grandpa always had a radio playing because he said the cows gave more milk if they heard music.  The steady slosh of milk hitting  the bucket, the cats all turning up for their squirt of milk, the lowing of the cows who came eagerly for each milking, these are the memories of cows for me.  Some memories are totally sensory and dear, when we take the time to honor them.  That barn, those moments, are a huge part of who I am.  And the gentle eyes of grandpa's cows will always be attached to love of the gentle milk cows.  

Again, the cow is done with drawing simple shapes and trying, out of memory, to paint the lights and shading to get contours of her face.  It is the touch of blue, around the eyes and the cheek and the muzzle, that made this art journal page pop for me.

©Carol Desjarlais 12.9.19