Jacqlyn Thorne

Horses in the Attic

This is my first post in awhile. I’ve been in another creative slump, despite submitting some of my artwork to gallery shows in the fall. I even sold two of them, a painting I did for a Ukraine benefit, and a photograph from a series I took of Fort Ticonderoga here in upstate New York. It was a really gratifying experience for me, knowing someone liked my work enough to want to keep it for…

“Joan’s Sunflowers” – oil pastel on paper In my continuing journey working with oil pastels, I donated my most recent one to the Lower Adirondack Regional Arts Council’s pop-up show to benefit Ukraine. I was inspired by some beautiful, unusually deep red ones in a friend’s garden to create the piece above. Sunflowers are a symbol of the country, and also seem to me to portray hope and optimism…

Trillium, Meadowbrook Nature Preserve Recently I started working with oil pastels and found I really love them. They are like drawing and painting tools put together, and very immediately expressive. I’m still learning how to use them, but like the progress I’ve made so far. One of the things I enjoy that’s also a challenge is blending colors on the paper. There’s no pre-mixing like you can do…

This week I started volunteering at the local chapter of North Shore Animal League here in Glens Falls. I’ve volunteered in the past at other places, but not for a long time. Working now as a socializer, I will help the resident cats and kittens, some of whom have been feral, adjust to life with people in preparation for finding their forever homes. What it essentially boils down to is playing…

After the storm and rainhad gone, my small world nowat peace, I took myself out,into the dusty dark of evening,and sat, beguiled, enchanted,listening to the night fallall around me, with the chimesringing softly in the cool wind,and the scent of some distant fire,woodsy and warm, driftingto me, and overhead the moon,a gray pearl barely visibleamong waves of slate dark clouds,looked down upon me…

New poem, “Silence Waits”

There, in the snow, waits silence,truth wide open and aware,that the world is not all noise,shattering, full of despair.In the clear whiteness I hear it,all hope is not lost, or useless –one day, no matter the harm we do,this world will return to quiet,when our voices speak no more. I was inspired to write this poem after a recent winter storm here in my area of upstate New York. All evening…

New poem, “True Miracles”

True Miracles If there is such a thing as the divine,then I can see it every day –in the grass, the rocks, the sunand sky, each leaf on every tree;in the bird’s flight and a cloud’s shadowas it passes overhead; in a storm,in a green pool, sparkling with life –for beauty I need look no further,than outside my own back door.These and more are true miracles,not found in lofty heights,surrounding…

Recently I decided I wanted to go back and re-learn some basics about art. Winter seemed like the perfect time to do this since I am mostly trapped inside all day. I have also felt stuck and stifled around my artwork, so I thought a new mindset might get the juices flowing again. I ordered several books and some new supplies from Blick online. A few new pencils, pens, paints and materials to try…

New poem, “Run or Stay”

I find I cannot bury my head in sand,ignorant, pretending the world sits right with me these days.At times I am a afraid, alone, feelingangry, sad, and overwhelmedby doubt, that this center will not hold,that troubled times are comingagain, far worse than we know now.Fears big and small rarely leave me,while I plot, and plan my own escape,wondering, when the times comes,if would run, or stay to…

The weather this Christmas Day here in upstate New York is miserable. Freezing rain has been falling all morning, glazing over an already thin and crusty layer of snow. It’s not welcome much on any day, and is the exact opposite of the picture perfect winter wonderland most people hope for on the holiday. I, however, am quite content sitting inside my small, warm, comfortable house with my gas…

My soul rests like unblemished snowat times, fresh from leaden skies,blanketing the cold earth smoothly,white, shining, and so very clean,untouched by any fallen footprints.But always I must step forward,breaking through such perfection,cracking the crust, only an illusion, covering the rough truth of life beneath. I realized this is my first post and poem I’ve shared in a quite awhile. It was a…

Jaws is one of my favorite movies of all time. It might seem like a creepy choice to make such a list, but for me it’s the ultimate story about both the beauty and the terror of the ocean. Even the characters feel it – from the reverence and awe of Richard Dreyfus’ scientist, to Robert Shaw’s at-first jaded, rough, and cynical sea captain, to Roy Scheider’s naive, rightly nervous police chief, we…

“This Solitude” – a poem expressing the feeling I sometimes had in this year of COVID. For introverts like myself, all the social isolation wasn’t such unfamiliar ground, and brought even more moments of quiet self-reflection. Although admittedly now, for everyone’s sake I’m very glad those days are moving behind us.

Here is a poem for all the little things I try to notice every day. We miss so much in our busy human lives, but they carry on in theirs without noticing all the fuss. I often think we can learn a lot by paying more attention to them.

Show me your soft belly, tender, warm, vulnerable. Roll on over and relax, stretch out here in my arms, like a shy cat, trusting I’d never cause any harm. Show me the secret spots, forgotten and afraid, hurt, hollow, or hungry, as I’ve never shown mine - then maybe, I’ll do the same. Even after four years of domestic ease, the youngest of my three cats retains something of her feral life as a…

THROUGH MY LENS: Waking woods

Spring is finally coming to the woods where I often walk with my dog, Hannah. When we went last week, the trail was still icy in many places and the wind was bitter cold, rattling leaves that still were clinging to their tree branches (ash or aspen, I think, but I can’t recall). But the angle of the sun had changed, growing higher in the sky, altering the way the light moves through and across…

New poem, “Best in Black”

Best in Black Some days seem to look their best in black, that nighttime color of souls when they're lost, heartbroken, grieving, and wishing the sun might never rise again. But it does, as always, casting out shadows here or there, reminding us: while losses come and go, we must still shine on. This is a poem I wrote shortly after a friend's son died tragically young last month. I couldn't…