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Sucker-punched by the setting sun, I viciously (kinda) pulled to the side of the road to capture this end-of-day image.  Forever for me, it seems, the gratitude for another day lived combines with the realization that this day will never be again to make sunsets emotional heart-grabbers.  So for today, "Thanks, God," and farewell, solar light and heat source that "just happens" to be placed carefully close enough yet far enough away to make life here on Earth possible!

This painting is on a piece of hardboard that I used for a while as a  handy spot to smear old or mixed paint as I cleaned off my palette.  Over time, a fair amount of texture was built up.  I would intentionally put dabs of used paint on low spots and try to smooth out the surface a little.  When contemplating a composition that would best express this scene, I happened to glance at my "paint repository" behind the easel and it appeared likely a marriage might be possible.  Ergo, this piece has an abundance of texture that "sparkles" as the viewer moves and the light hits it.  Although not something I do often, I find child-like fun in occasional experimentation.  What do you think?

Decades ago, back in the days when I was an active wildlife artist, I offered to paint the favorite animal for each of our kids.  One daughter thought a Moose would be her choice.  Over a couple of years I did an illustration/Bateman-esque painting for all four.  The years went by and the "Moose daughter" moved.  In the process, she asked me to keep it so it wouldn't get last or damaged. Then it sat for ages.

Eventually it "stirred to the top" giving me a chance to reevaluate my effort.  The stark, spare background wasn't working for me, so I turned it into an outdoor Moose portrait.  The last live Moose I saw was blocking my trail near String Lake in the Grand Tetons, forcing me to make my own trail overland by scrambling over fallen, burnt logs from the most recent fire.  It was early June with cold rain falling, so I looked like Dick Van Dyke as the chimney sweep in Mary Poppins, except totally drenched to boot.  I still have never gotten those pants clean.  So here's to you, Mr. Moose.  Tanks for the memories!

—Jim Glover

This summer of 2020, we experienced the joy of strong, straight-line winds splitting our huge Sugar Maple and having half of it fall on our house.  Roof, gutters, soffits and deck all had to be repaired.  But due to the COVID-19 quarantines, all the roofers, remodelers, handymen (persons?) were working on projects that stay-at-home people had discovered they wanted done.  It took months to get all the repairs taken care of.

  Our roofing rep, from Tim Newman Roofing (fabulous job they did!) and I got talking and found that his father had worked for Iowa's Department of Natural Resources, as I had here in Ohio.  One thing led to another so I showed him some of my wildlife paintings from my website.  He ended up commissioning me to do three paintings for him, his mother and his father.  Just so he could get them in time for Christmas.  No problem, eh?

Being the professional crastinator that I am, I kept putting off the project thinking I can whip those out in no time.  Early November arrived, and I unknowingly got exposed to the coronavirus.  Four days later I began what became a moderate-to-severe case of COVID, ending up with brief hospital stay November 22 and 23.  Remdesivir and some steroids helped me turn the corner, but the fatigue was rough.  

"I'll start today on my commissions," I'd say.  Two hours later I was back in bed or leaned back in the recliner.  Sleep became a moving target; days and nights merged.  Finally, on December 23, with a lot of grace, I was able to hand the finished pieces over to my client.  Then I settled in for a long winter's nap.

       A breath-taking morning in mid-summer found me at a local Metropark after an unseasonably cool 61 degree overnight.  Prairie flowers were at their peak, the skies were clear, just a pleasant breeze: obviously a Facebook moment!  You know what that means--a "when you're happy, the whole world smiles with you" kind of day, the kind I want to pretend  is what always fills my life, expecting people to literally skip along the walking path as I paint so folks will just KNOW that I have my life together!  Not happening.  That's why I'm hardly ever on FB.

       But despite my coronavirus pandemic/quarantine/anxiety gremlins, the painting did go well, and I actually felt encouraged and enjoyed the outing.  That enjoyment was further enhanced when a friendly, passing walker returned twice more to watch my progress and then decided she wanted to own the picture.  So don't give up, out there!  Miracles do still happen, since God has not gone into isolation or self-quarantine!  His gift to me was this desire/ability to paint His stuff, so I'll keep on doing what I can do and try not to worry about the things I can't.

—Jim Glover