This winter cabin art print is my last artwork of 2020. I would be lying if I said 2020 is a year I will fondly remember. I created some artwork that I’m certainly proud of but there was an undercurrent of worry much of the year. I think that explains the subject of this last piece of art for the year. As someone who lives where it does not snow often, snow remains truly magical. I’m happy to say I’ve talked to friends over the years who live where it snows frequently and they’ve maintained the wonder of it all. But as someone who only occasionally sees a flurry, snow is simply the stuff of fantasy. And it’s fitting that one of my earliest childhood memories is a freak southern snowstorm in March of 1973. Although I was only a toddler, I still remember seeing the foot deep snow outside our front door the next morning. It was a world magically transformed. And I think that’s the only reason I still remember it as I remember very little otherwise from that early in life. The other thing about snow for me is the silence that accompanies it. Here rain often precedes snow and there’s a moment when you hear the rain stop and there’s a quietness as snow floats down like tiny little feathers on the wind.
I find snow magical regardless of the time of day but to me there’s something warm and inviting about the lights of a home set against the cool blue of a winter night. Such was the inspiration behind setting this winter cabin art in a moonlit woods. Despite so much of this scene being a cool blue, it’s the warmth of it that radiates from the image to me. I see that cabin and the warm glow inside and it suggests a welcoming place and a respite from the cold. And I feel the calmness of a winter night.
And calmness was definitely what I was seeking from the start in this winter cabin art. But especially as I was working on it when I discovered that my father’s oldest brother had passed away. My Uncle, John Hollis Tisdale, passed away on December 29th, 2020. This happens to be four years to the day after my father’s death. Of my father’s two brothers and one sister, I had been around my Uncle Hollis the least. What I knew of him, I liked, and he often featured in stories of my father’s fondly remembered childhood.
Unfortunately my grandmother’s children scattered a bit in their adult years. My grandmother in Dothan was at the center, living closest to my Aunt. We frequently saw my Dad’s sister and youngest brother when visiting Granny. My Uncle Hollis taught school and lived in the New Orleans area. With us in Georgia, our orbits were furthest apart. We pretty much only saw him and his family if our schedules to see my grandmother aligned just right. For a brief time nearly 20 years ago, he and I exchanged regular emails. This lasted for maybe a year or two before he and my Aunt Donna became somewhat nomadic, living in an RV in their retirement. As I glanced back through some of those emails, I saw they were from around the time I was discovering my love of travel and art, And I saw that Uncle Hollis was encouraging and supportive. I’m not sure I appreciated that as much then as I should have. I have always enjoyed an embarrassment of supportive family I’m happy to say.
So, while I started this winter cabin art days before his passing, I finished it afterwards and his passing was very much on my mind. Although he did not inspire this particular artwork, I do consider this wintry scene to be in his memory.
I hope the scenic view of this little red cabin in a moonlit woods brings you the same sense of peace and warmth as it does to me. And I would love it if you share your thoughts on this print with me.
If interested, you can learn about prints and cards available for this artwork by following the link below.