Posts Tagged ‘Painting’

Haibun: Summer

July 30, 2018



(Summer Dusk, jane Kohut-bartels, oil, 2003)

The summer was beautiful, despite the heat.  Last night the moon looked like a beggar’s cup, soft brilliance glowing.  The days in the Deep South are sultry, but the wind picks up in late afternoon when a storm is coming and then these huge oaks and pecans are whirligigs high in the sky. Barley tea, iced tea and lemonade are the drinks of choice, harkening back to an earlier time.  Closed drapes, blinds at noon work to regulate temperature, though one doubts this will.

The heat brings to life the cicadas, or whatever is making a constant buzz outside.  It comes in waves, where one group, or species, competes in sound with another. A call and answer of tent meeting insects. The dogs of summer are wise: flattening themselves on the cool tiles of the laundry room, they remain motionless until the cooling of the night when they chase rats in the kudzu.  They have developed a taste for watermelon, and we sit on the back porch and share with them, while a wood owl barks from a huge oak above. We never see him, but his hoots add to the symphony of summer nights.

Sultry air disturbs

The sleep of husband and wife.

They pant without lust.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2016




A Few Paintings.

May 2, 2018

These are not new but I am thinking of taking a break from writing after “The Kimono” gets published.  And painting more and finishing watercolors I have started and haven’t finished.  LOL!

Lady Nyo





Savannah Birds

All these, except the first one, are watercolors.  The last one was the cover of “Song of the Nightingale”, published on, 2015.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2018

Kimono Cover


“The Kimono”, Chapter 28, Earthquake!

April 13, 2018

Sesshu painting

The painting above by Sesshu is in my opinion a brilliant usage of ink and imagination. It takes years to even approach such a technique and I am firm in my belief that in order to even begin such is worth while of a life time of effort.  There is so much ‘good’ in this painting that it enthralls me.  There is a depth and simplicity in this painting that demands attention.


“The Kimono” be published in a matter of months….

Plum Blossom Snow

The present snowstorm

of white plum blossoms

blinds me to sorrow.

They cascade over cheeks

like perfumed, satin tears

too warm with the promise

of life to chill flesh.

Lady Nyo, circa 2016

MARI DREAMED OF SNOW falling on her face but somewhere in her mind she knew it was spring, now too far from winter. She woke up, cold, as Lord Tetsu had turned in the night and taken all the quilts. She sat up, pulling her thin kimonos around her. The dawn’s light barely infused the bay. Only thin tendrils of light skimmed the sky above the distant mountains. Something was wrong. It wasn’t snow, but cherry blossoms. They covered the ground. There was a deep humming beneath the soil.

Mari placed her hands on the ground and felt the vibrations. She wondered why Lord Tetsu had not woken. Mari stood to get a better look at the bay but even standing was difficult. She felt drunk, unstable on her feet. Something was definitely wrong. The water in the bay looked as if something was punching from beneath with a million fists, causing it to
roil and churn.
  

Lord Tetsu woke with a start and sat up. For the first time, Mari saw fear on his face.

“Do not try to stand. Throw off your geta and run!” he shouted. He grabbed her hand and they ran half-crouching up the hill towards the others, Mari gathering her robes above her knees. The tremors of the earthquake knocked them to the ground several times and each time Lord Tetsu covered her with his body. They heard screams and shouts in the distance. Nothing seemed real. Cherry trees were uprooted and tossed in a jumble against each other. Lord Tetsu saw Lord Nyo scrambling towards him and shouted for him to get back to town and get their horses. They must ride to Gassan or get as high as possible. They were in the lowlands and after the earthquake a feared tsunami could strike.

A brazier had turned over and started a small fire on some quilts. Lord Tetsu stamped it out and then looked for survivors. Lady Nyo and her servants were trapped under some branches of a fallen cherry tree. Lord Tetsu and some of the men lifted the tree and pulled them out. Blood mixed with soil streamed down Lady Nyo’s face but other than a flesh wound, she would survive. Others were not so lucky. A few servants from the inn had been killed by fallen trees. Lord Tetsu’s men dragged their bodies out and laid them together on the ground. Someone covered them with the half-burnt quilts. Lady Nyo sat against a fallen tree. Mari scrambled to her and wiped the blood from her face with her kimono sleeve. Why didn’t Lord Nyo free his wife first before he obeyed Lord Tetsu’s orders to fetch their horses? Clearly, such were the rules of this century and culture. “I am fine, don’t worry about me, please,” whispered Lady Nyo. She was in shock, her face pale with trauma. “Is my Lord Nyo alive?” Mari nodded her head and told her that Lord Tetsu had ordered him to bring the horses from the town.

Lady Nyo looked doubtful. “Surely the town has suffered what we have here. The horses might have bolted and he will not find them. We can only hope he does. Lord Tetsu wants us all to ride to Gassan Mountain. He said the higher we are, the safer we will be.”

Suddenly, a man appeared over them. Startled, Mari looked up. It was Lord Yoki. “Do not fear, my ladies,” he said, bowing. “Lord Tetsu is right. The higher we get, the better our chances of surviving will be.”

Another tremor rumbled beneath them. It lasted only a few seconds but Mari screamed in fear. Lord Yoki laid his hand on her shoulder to steady her. Mari buried her face in his robes. Either he had very hairy legs or she felt feathers through his clothing. In any case, she was glad he was there. Lord Tetsu was off directing the men, gathering what they could that would be useful for their flight to Gassan Mountain. He was not around to comfort a hysterical woman. Mari continued to wipe the blood from Lady Nyo’s face, using the other sleeve of her kimono. Lady Nyo chanted something in a low voice. Mari thought she was praying.

Suddenly, Lord Tetsu bent over Mari, pulled her to her feet and led her away from the others. He put his arm around her waist and drew her to him. “You must leave. If you stay, you will die.”

“Yes,” said Mari. “I will die with you.”

Lord Tetsu grimaced and put his hand around her neck, close to her chin, and bent her head back. He increased the pressure on either side of her jaw. The last thing Mari saw was his eyes, two black pools to drown in.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2018

Kimono Cover

Autumn Closes

November 29, 2015

Marsh Geese, watercolor, Jane Kohut-Bartels, 200–


This waning Autumn season,

That bursts upon the mindscape

Through the vehicle of landscape

And mingles dazzling elements

Of color, odors, tangled undergrowth,

Where things are lost in each other

And plausible limits vanish,

And with the passage of days,

(Or  a violent rainstorm—)

The Earth is transformed in scarcity,

A stretching silence

Insulated by hoar frost and later snow,

Where color is corralled

Like old black and white horses

Barely moving against bitter grey of day.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2015


“Autumn Poem”

October 5, 2015

“North Carolina Stream”, watercolor, janekohut-bartels, 2008



The chilling rains

Have blasted leaves

From black-barked trees.

Too soon has this happened

Thinking there would be yet time.


Time to marvel

At Nature’s robust palette,

To fill the eyes and senses

With ethereal beauty

No man-made tints can challenge.


But like most of life

We are behind

And lose out to clockwork

Not of our making.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010, 2015, from  “Pitcher of Moon”,, 2014


“Ode to a Coopers Hawk”

June 15, 2012

Young RedTail Hawk, Jane Kohut-Bartels, watercolor


Ode to a Coopers Hawk


Come to me.

Come to me,

Winged celestial beauty.

Come to me with your notched

Mermaid tail,

Your silken roll of feathers.

Fly down into my hollowed-out soul,

Fill me with your sun-warmed glory

Nestle in my arms

And bring the curve of the horizon

Embraced in your outstretched wings.


I need no white bearded prophet,

No mumbled prayer, no gospel song

No hard church bench, no fast or

Festival to feel close to the Divine.



The glory of the universe,

Is embodied in your flight

As you tumble through heavens,

Ride the invisible thermals

Screech with joy at freedom

Fill your lungs with thin air

And play bumper car with an Eagle.


I, earthbound,

No hollowed bones to launch me,

Just tired soul to weigh down,

No soft plumage to feel the course

Of wind through glossy feathers

No hunting call to herald my presence.


Still my soul takes flight

The breeze lifts my spirit,

My eyes follow you,

And we will find that glory

Transcend a sullen earth,

Transcend a mean humanity

And soar together into the blue eye of God.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011, 2012

Autumn Poem of Mid November

November 18, 2010

Canadian Geese in Early Winter, janekohut-bartels, watercolor, 2005

This waning Autumn season,

That bursts upon the mindscape

Through the vehicle of landscape

And mingles dazzling elements

Of color, odors, tangled undergrowth,

Where things are lost in each other

And plausible limits vanish,

And with the passage of days,

Or  a violent rainstorm—

The Earth is transformed in scarcity,

A stretching silence

Insulated by hoar frost and later snow,

Where color is corralled

Like an old black and white horse

Barely moving against bitter grey of day.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010

Painting anymore??

March 12, 2010

Country Lane

1930's sloop

This is the first blog entry I have done since I set up this site quite a while ago.  I’ve thrown my energies into  “Lady Nyo’s Weblog”  ( because that site was all about my writing, publishing and some other issues of life.

So recently, a good friend (Bren) who knows me for many years, wrote and asked if I was still painting?  Well, after 25 years of such, I had turned my energies to writing and belly dancing, and only recently went back to watercolors.

Why not?  There is no “Chinese Wall” between disciplines and when you can and it pleases you (and others)….why not??

However, most of what I have attempted recently has been NOT birds….it’s landscapes and seascapes.

The jury is still out how long I will do so, but recently I have been enjoying the painting again.  There is one that I am working on but it is too sketchy of paint to put up here.

A few months ago, I was drinking a green tea mixture….a can…and the can had a geisha (or a courtesan) as decoration, and the full sugar can had a beautiful cherry tree in full blossom.  I decided to combine both cans (pretty good, actually!) and make a painting of that.  My son watched the geisha come into being and mentioned that  ‘she must be a courtesan because she tied the obi in front’.

LOL~!  The perils of homeschooling children.  What they pick up from their mothers!

But he was (mostly) right.  We both learned that only courtesans tied their obis in front….never geishas or ‘decent’ women.  Actually, I believe this is a myth.  It’s very hard to tie an obi yourself, so why not wear it in front??

This spring I will try to continue to paint.  Not much has come into excitement….exciting me enough to pick up brush and watercolor, but I am awaiting spring afterall….the tender buds, the delicate colors of the trees mounding one upon the other in the distance, all these various greens….

So we shall see what moves the heart and brush.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

“Bald Eagle’

July 5, 2009

Kohut-Bartels-BOP-5I was a painter for years, and did mostly landscapes and birds, birds of prey.  This painting was done a few years ago, and it’s a BIG one.

The problem with watercolor is that backgrounds sometimes with a subject like this, become secondary, boring.  It’s a constant struggle to marry the subject and background,  but I keep trying.

Lady Nyo…who has a painting blog/website: Kohut-Bartels-BOP-5

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