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Little Burrowing Owl
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| Portrait of a White Spotted Owl |
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| Great Horned Owl |
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| Eyes Wide Open, Short-eared Owl |
Obsessed with Owls:
Four Paintings and a Story
It all started with the purchase of an owl art souvenir on a long- ago vacation. I was finally on my own after college. I had a teaching job that gave me some spending money. And, I had begun spending some of my hard-earned money on summer vacations when I wasn't teaching. Deciding that I needed souvenirs to prove that I actually saw Florida, California, Europe, and so on, I focused on one of my favorite birds, the OWL. My collection began innocently enough. But after awhile, my family and friends got in on it. "I noticed you have a whole shelf of owls. You must like them, Cindy," my Mother reminded me. Pretty soon I was getting them for birthdays and holidays from my family. After that, my friends joined in. They didn't just ask me what I wanted for Christmas. They just assumed I'd want another owl.
In my small duplex in South Carolina, where I had one of my first jobs teaching English to rural high school kids, the owl collection was seriously taking over my living space. When I moved to England five years later, I boxed up the owls and didn't even look at them again until I moved back to the states three years later. Landing in Texas, my owls flew with me to San Antonio. I thought I'd sparingly decorate with them. However, the spartan life of collecting just wasn't meant for me. I took up my owl collecting again with a renewed passion, only to acquire more boxes filled with owls in my new Texan home's attic and closets. I was beginning to have a Love/ Hate relationship with them. Obsessions can be like that!
Finally, I put an end to it. I had a serious withdrawal for awhile. I'd see an owl in a gift shop that looked so-o-o cute. Its big eyes gazing at me. Hoot! HOOT! Take me home! It was terrible!!! I'd cringe and stalk quickly out the door of the store. No looking back. I'd say to myself with a new resolve.
Well, that takes me up to the present day. I had almost forgotten about my old owl obsession until I heard an owl hooting a couple of months ago. The window was open one night to let in some cool, dry air. I had a restless night of crazy dreaming. I rolled over and sat up in bed. What was that? Hoot Hoot! I got out of bed and made my way in the dark to the window so I wouldn't wake up my husband Paul. The soft sound of an owl hooting from a tree down the street called my name. Hoot. Hoot. There was another owl calling back from further down the street. Must be mates, I thought. Standing by the bathroom window, I strained to listen again. The owl's call grew louder. It sounded like the owl was right in my backyard. I crept to the bedroom window to get a better view of the yard and deck. I heard a flutter, saw a shadow, and strained my eyes to see into the dark. Staring right back at me, a great horned owl sat calmly on the railing of our deck. Its head seemed to turn the whole way around. I love the way owls do that. We looked at each other one last time before it flapped and cruised silently out of sight.
The next day, I knew I was hooked again. But, this time, I went upstairs to my studio and started sketching. My first of four paintings started with the great horned owl. Since then, I have enjoyed photographing owls in museums, at the zoo, and a taxidermy shop. Reading up on owls has been a hoot as well. As long as I live, I know this about myself. I'll always give a hoot for owls.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Love,
Cindy
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