Orozco paints Migration and we make a migration south ourselves

So white around here still so I painted in oranges and blues just to see the colors.  Enlivened me.  Oil on cradled board 12x12.  I call it Finding Water in the Desert or maybe Seeking is the word to use.

When we woke today the sun was shining and the skies were clear...what a change.  Maybe the day for a migration south to find lands touched by springtime.  I remember going to Hanover, NH when the boys were small just to "smell the flowers".  Could this work again?  We headed the car south saying goodbye to snow buried fields and the neutral colored landscape.  Dartmouth, what have you to offer us on this Sunday in early April?

What?  No shows up in the Hopkins Center!  The Baker Library then for the Orozco Murals, 1932 to 1934, The Epic of American Civilization in the rather musty smelling resource room.

Left panel, Ancient Human Migration, and then of course the Aztec rituals...powerful pieces, lasting well these 80 years, but a somber power.  We made our trip around the room and then needed to head for fresh air, even with the biting wind....not really spring yet in Hanover.  Darn!

I did find this treasure for my camera's eye.  That mighty iphone can do the trick.  Isn't this fellow grand?

Went to the Hood Museum where the whole second floor was not open because the new shows were not installed yet, but I was happy to see this Allen Hauser...maybe I didn't spell that right.  Is anyone looking?  I know his work from the "American Indian Museum" in  WDC and from Santa Fe...very recognizable and calm.

Finally found a quiet place from lunch in a back alley where the tourists and young folks about the collage didn't go...satisfying revival, then a walk by the river, the grand Connecticut which runs between NH and Vermont.

 Just look at the colors I saw there, red ozure and that blue of the water.  Amazing how similar it is to my painting posted first.  How can this be?

We found the path which led under the bridge and there in the shadow lay the last few ice flows washed ashore, still preserved to remind us that winter had so recently been covering these waters.

When we got back to our ice mountain, north faced land, we saw that the ice was crumbling a bit and more tiny green shoots were daring to poke above ground at the house foundation.  Dare we hope that spring will thrill us soon?