Public Domain Art Resources

Claude Monet (French, 1840 – 1926), The Bridge at Argenteuil, 1874, oil on canvas, Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon 1983.1.24

Well, a few days ago I posted a resource I use for finding free ebooks in the public domain.  And that has attracted a good response from readers.  So today, I thought I’d offer you something else which I use regularly:  I want to offer you two resources I use to find public domain art images.

Public domain images are good for a couple of reasons: 1) So much fine art is stored away in museums and private collections and never viewed by the public.  This is a shame.  But art institutions are now making images of these artworks available and free to the public to download and enjoy!  I use public domain images as computer screen wallpaper but that brings me to reason 2) If you have a blog or website or you need a beautiful image for the cover of the new book you’ve written, you are allowed to use public domain images for these purposes also.  And there are other ways you may use PD images but I’ll leave it up to you to read up on public domain permissions, but I will say the uses are very liberal.  I will add, however, different countries, as I understand it, may have different criteria for what qualifies as “public domain” and what is not.  So keep that in mind.

So let’s get to the resources I want to mention.

The first is The National Gallery of Art which is a U. S. government institution.  The link takes you to their “Open Access” homepage.  Use the “Browse the Collection” button on that page to view their huge collection of images.  Also, here is the quick link to their Open Access Policy which is useful to read.

The second resource I’ll offer is WikiArt: Visual Art Encyclopedia.  (The link takes you to their homepage.)  But only some of their collection is public domain.  However, it’s quite easy to know which images are because each image is clearly marked “public domain” in the text right below the image itself if it is indeed public domain.  See HERE for example.  As a general rule of thumb, when I’m looking through the images, if the date of the image is 100 years old or older, it is probably in the public domain.  But always go to the image itself and see if it has the public domain label beneath the image first before you use it.

Also, in the WikiArt collection, if you click on the label, “public domain” when it appears beneath the image, you’ll get a popup box which reads as follows:

This Young Gal Wowed Me

people playing violin inside dim room

I found this video a couple of weeks ago.  The young musician, featured in the video, plays a beautifully haunting selection of music with such mastery that when I heard it the first time it brought me to tears.

I was deeply moved.  Perhaps you could use a bit of inspiration today with whatever work you are doing.  If that’s the case, give this video a try and be inspired and awed—as I was.

Here’s the link to the YouTube video. Enjoy!

Wow!

A Poem: “9-29”

 I don’t write many poems but I have written a few.  This one’s a bit dark so it’s a change from the normal feel of this blog.  But change is useful too and “dark” helps us to appreciate light more.  I won’t try to explain the poem; I think it explains itself fairly well.  I hope you enjoy it.

9-29

The damn refrigerator hums

incessantly like a hornets’ nest,

only unnatural,

filling the kitchen

with a twitchy electricity.

 

Potato soup for dinner again,

leftover but all right,

microwaved and hot as blazes;

it clings to the spoon

and dulls the palate like acid.

 

He stands bowl on counter stooped

by the kitchen window

gulping hot mouthfuls

then licking the spoon clean

of potato scum with each turn.

 

Out through the window above the sink,

he sees only darkness peering in;

it’s 9-29 the woods shuttered with black

as only the florescent light above him

illuminates dimly the room with unfriendly gleam.

 

No moon tonight,

none he can find;

she hasn’t been around—

a bad day with the pain and all—

so he eats alone.

 

Finished, he rinses the bowl

and notices the stoic reflection

in the black window

staring at him with distrustful expression;

the refrigerator refuses to cease humming.

 

He’s getting used to it.

 

copyright 2018 Dale Tucker

Finding the Spring of Life Again

body of water near rocks   I was age 51 when I found myself facing a personal crisis of sorts.  It was winter and I was walking the levee in the community where I lived.  I remember it being a very cold day.  The crisis was that I did not know where my life was going and I felt that up until that point I had wasted my life—not for lack of trying but because it seemed that everything I had tried failed.  The river beside which I walked and the sky overhead both were gray, as were the dry hills around me.  The setting reflected my mood.

What shall I do? I thought.  What can I do? was the better question because so many years of opportunity lay behind me.  As I walked and pondered this question, I realized that I had not really followed my heart—not often enough, anyway.  It seemed that each time I had encountered a crossroads and had to make a major decision of some sort that, instead of following my intuition, I would do what I thought was “acceptable” in the minds of others.  And part of those decisions, I realized, was to avoid the label of being called “selfish”.  Apparently, I equated selfishness with following my gut, my intuition, my best judgement.  Consequently, over and over again, my efforts failed and I found myself facing another dead end—just as I faced that day on the levee.  And now I was alone; no emotional or familial network I could look to for support.

I thought of a dozen decisions in the past that I should have made differently but what good was that to me now? I wondered.  More than half my life, gone.  And how much more time did I have, anyway?  Forty years?  Thirty years?  Less?  But even more perplexing was the thought that perhaps I could no longer know what my heart wanted; I had denied it for so long that my heart had given up on ever changing my path.  I had lost confidence in my own decision-making faculty.  So this is what people mean when they say “I had to find myself” I thought.  I, too, had lost the person I started as.  But when did that Dale disappear? I asked.  So I started tracing my steps back in time:  When was the last time I felt completely myself, like I really knew who I was?

Back and back into my history I went until I discovered the time when my spring of life was clear, un-muddied.  I realized that it was somewhere between the ages of 8 and 11 that I started trying to be the person others wanted me to be and also began believing some of the ways they characterized me and my personality, though I never really thought their characterizations were accurate.  But why would they be wrong?  They saw me from the outside so obviously that was what I projected.  I hope you recognize the flaw in that last statement.

So back to the day on the levee.

What I realized I had to do were two things:  1) I would have to find the Dale who was eight years old again.  Who was he?  What was he like?  And 2) I would simply have to start over, act as if I’m a teen—say someone who is 13 years old, only with much more experience—and build a life with whatever time I had left.  So at age 51, I decided to become 13 again and make the choices my intuition would suggest and stop worrying about how other people (who didn’t really know me) label me.  That’s precisely what I’ve done and, I have to say, it’s worked out pretty well for me so far.  By the way, I’m presently 29 years old in my new life!

Upon This Path Together

Note: I wrote this post just after publishing Wanderer as an ebook with Smashwords.  I was not entirely satisfied with that edition of the novel so discontinued it.  But the post itself expresses exactly what I feel for my Love. — DT

I want to pause a minute to say that this day (of having my first novel published) could not have been possible without the abiding support, care, and love of one person:  Her name is Kathryn.  Writing a book (as some of you know) demands a great deal of time and focus and without those two elements a book simply is not possible.  On a practical level it means hundreds of hours sitting in front of a computer screen and blocking out everything—and everyone—except that screen and one’s own thoughts.  It feels selfish at times to devote so much time and emotional energy to such a project.  But Kathryn has given me the time and space I’ve needed to do just that.  And that is no small gift.  In fact, she’s encouraged me to keep working, to my heart’s content, and finish the project which, finally, I have.

But she has done more than that.  She has listened to hundreds of readings of chapters, still in progress, and entered the world of the story with me and grown to love its characters as much as I do.  She has cheered me when I was discouraged, brought me innumerable cups of coffee and saucers of cookies when I would not leave the computer to eat, and unselfishly applauded every tiny but significant advance towards the ultimate completion of this work.  Not once has she complained about the lawn going without mowing—which it has done often—or any of the other neglects for which I’m guilty.  Instead, she has adapted her world to mine.

person walking on pathway between trees during daytime

Kathryn has walked with me on this path every step of the journey and without her Wanderer Come Home would only still be a hope but not a reality.  So, thank you, Kathryn!  You are such a sweet and gentle soul—one I can never live without.  God bless you, my Love!

Dale

Great News!

UPDATE:  Wanderer Come Home has passed the vetting process and will now be available through a number of major ebook retailers such as Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, Scribd and others!  Check out the PURCHASE MY COPY tab above to see if your favorite retailer sells Wanderer.

I have uploaded an ebook version of Wanderer Come Home to Smashwords and it has been accepted for publication, though it is presently still in the vetting process (I believe to see if it meets standards for wider distribution?).

man jumping on the middle of the street during daytime

The release date is Monday, August 15th 2022; that’s when it will be available for purchase.  Only 11 days away!  But the book is already listed at the Smashwords retail store where you can read a sample of Wanderer and pre-order it.  See HERE.

I will keep you updated as things develop.  I am so very excited!  This book has been three years in the making and now, finally, I can share it with others like you who love a good story as much as I do.

Thank you for checking out Wanderer Come Home at Smashwords and please leave comments.

Dale

How Do You Like My Book Blurb?

Okay folks.  I could really use your help (that means comments) on this one.  Today, I’ve written a possible book blurb for my novel.  The blurb is a description of the novel, the story, or content of the book.  We read the blurbs to decide if we’re interested in reading the book.  If the blurb is compelling, we purchase the book and can’t wait to crack it open and begin reading.

So, what I need to know is:  After reading the blurb below, do you want to read the book AND would you then purchase it?  Whatever comments you offer will be very helpful to me and much appreciated.  The blurb is still in rough draft form but here it is:

book blurb

At age eight, upon witnessing his best friend, Dixie, being hit by a car while riding her bicycle, a life-changing mystery confronts Axel Browne.  This mystery will shape his life for the next sixty-two years, compelling him on a search for an improbable solution—finding Dixie Larsen whom he believes has been reincarnated.

Fast-forward to 2018.  Now, Axel is seventy years old, lives in a friend’s toolshed, and has all but given up on ever finding Dixie in his lifetime.  Then a second car accident and death of a friend upends Axel’s life once more.  The series of events which unfold from this accident exhume a clue from the past which could resolve Axel’s mystery and lead him to Dixie.

Wanderer Come Home is a story about undying love and a child’s promise, and how the mysteries beyond reality on Earth shape our lives as mortals.

Thoughts On the eBook Journey

Mid-October, last year, I “finished” my novel.  I had final edited it—the entire book—and believed the work was in its final form.  So, at that time, I began looking for a literary agent.  Of course, before that, I had done some research into Literary Agencies already, but in October I began looking for a representative in earnest.  I did not look far before I realized that finding an agent for my book was going to take months, if not years.  This was true for a number of reasons but primarily 1) I’m a new writer on the scene, 2) at the time, I had no social media presence, and 3) my book is larger than publishers like to deal with.  At that point, I let the manuscript just “rest” on a shelf and turned my attention to other domestic activities.  This was a good thing to do.

Then, a few weeks ago, April, a relative of mine, showed an interest in reading my novel.  But all I had to offer her was my heavy manuscript and, besides, she was used to reading books in ebook form.  The paper manuscript just would not work in this case.  But having April, a member of a book club who reads a good number of books each year, read my work would certainly be an advantage to me and the work.  So this motivated me to look into creating some sort of ebook I could offer her.

As I began working on formatting my novel into ebook form, I realized that this was the ideal first step for publishing my work.  I would maintain complete artistic control, I could afford publishing the work, and I would retain full copyright authority of the book as well.  All three of these are important to me.  So what began as a way to give April an ebook version of my novel has turned into a publishing strategy and I feel very good about it.

But each time I read chapters of my novel in ebook form, I saw the writing in a new light and I spotted mistakes I didn’t realize were there.  For this reason, copy editing has taken multiple chapter readings and careful combing and re-combing of paragraphs to make sure the prose reads just the way I want it to.  And this process is taking me longer than I expected but I know it will be well worth the extra time in the end.  And yes, copy editing is a very different skill and process than creating an interesting story.  Both are necessary, of course, but I must confess I prefer the creativity part much more.

See you around the block.

Coffee Shop Discussions

black trike parked near soter

One thing I miss and that I used to enjoy a great deal was meeting a couple of friends at the coffee shop or the quirky bar for a discussion about Art.  As a painter and living in a town where I knew more people, this was a fairly regular thing for me.  And the discussions got heated when we talked about what was or wasn’t art or I remember one discussion in particular:  Is there such a thing as “absolute truth”?  That was fun.

Regardless of whether or not we agreed with each other, our friendships seemed to only grow stronger with each face-to-face argument we had and, yes, arguments are what they were.  We sharpened our intellectual and philosophical swords while jousting with each other.  Were we scholars?  Not really.  You don’t have to be a scholar to engage in arguments about the so called Big Questions in life.  And why do we avoid the big questions in life?  We all deal with them almost every day.  Why not tell someone about that little curiosity you observed in Nature in your own backyard that seems to confirm the existence of God?  Why not ask: Is there an absolute Truth or is everything in the universe a haphazard sequence of coincidences?

I surmise that we don’t talk about the big questions in life because we have—many of us have—lost the art of conversation.  We’ve forgotten how to crack a funny comment just when the tension gets too much and the conversation threatens to go to the dark side.  We’ve forgotten that it’s all right to capitulate on our position—to give ground—in order not to anger or humiliate our friend and that we should never, never resort to insult in stressing our point.  We seemed to have lost these dialogue strategies which our grandparents where quite comfortable with and made use of all the time.  So instead of relearning how good conversation works, we continue to lengthen the list of taboo subjects which we refuse to approach, to the point that we can no longer talk about anything, except the weather, sports, and our latest purchasing experience.  How boring!

But I believe for the mental health of society, we are going to have to relearn the techniques of the Art of Conversation.  And we will have to relearn that always being right and vitriol have no place in the human-to-human exchange of ideas, that respect for the person you’re talking to trumps winning the argument and that it is your sense of humor which attracts others to your side.

So here, I offer this point of view.  I invite you to disagree with me in the comments, if you do.  Let’s talk without rancor and enjoy the experience.  Shall we?  Or we could talk baseball, instead.

When and Where Can I Find Your Book?

The short answer is: I hope Wanderer Come Home will be available for purchase sometime this month, July 2022.  It will be an eBook at this point.  Later, I hope to also publish a print edition but, at the moment, I can’t say when that might be.  Right now, I’m finishing the final copy edit to find any and all imperfections, though I’m certain I’ll miss something along the way.

The book is large: 194K words and 53 chapters, as well as a prologue and epilogue.  I will also be including, in the end matter, the first chapter of my next novel titled, Datesville, Camping In Canaan’s Land which I’m currently writing.  So you’ll get plenty of excellent reading material for the price of one book.  By the way, the ebook will probably be priced at around $9.99 USD or possibly less.

Smashwords will make the book for me when it’s ready and they have a retail store themselves, so I know it will be available through them.  But they also distribute ebooks through a number of other outlets, several of which are large retailers.  But I’ll make all of that clearer when Wanderer actually goes on sale and I have a better idea where the book can be purchased.

If you have further questions or comments, please leave them below or just say “hello”.  I’d love to hear from you.

Dale

Here’s My Boring Bio

So, here’s the bio which will appear in the “end matter” of my novel.  End matter is a new term for me; so I’m having fun using it; but I think you know what end matter is: it’s that extra junk they include at the end of the story which you might read if a) the book is interesting enough to finish and b) you really, really enjoyed the story.  But if you’re a writer like me, you probably read the end matter first, to see what the author is all about.  Bios, however, are notoriously bland and uninformative and they all, pretty much, sound the same.  I’ll admit, mine isn’t much different.

I suppose the reason bios are bland and uninformative is because authors are generally recluses—we’re not all that comfortable with strangers (like the people who make up our audiences).  Don’t get me wrong, we like people and we love our audiences.  We just don’t like spending too much time around them.  We like solitude better.  In that, we’re different from celebrities.  So the bio kind of reflects that, the fact that we prefer solitude, I mean.  Maybe I’ll say more about this another time; I just thought you deserved an explanation as to why the “About the Author” sections are so boring.  You do know, probably, that authors are often colorful characters, despite their bios?

Anyway, here’s mine:

about the author

A native of California, Dale Tucker spent much of his childhood in Palo Alto and Fresno before the family moved to north-central Idaho in the late 1960s.  Over the next four decades, he graduated high school, raised a family, earned a degree in English, and explored a number of career paths, including church minister, abstract painter, and museum curator.  2006 saw the redirection of his artistic energies as he transitioned from painting to writing with a focus on literary fiction.  Themes that appeal particularly to Dale are issues related to poverty, simplicity of living, and spirituality.  Wanderer Come Home is his first novel and addresses all three of these themes.

Dale is currently retired and spends his time writing, cooking, Nature-watching, and gardening at his home, sheltered in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina with his soulmate, Kathryn, and his Manx cat, Dill.

About The Novel

I’d like to give you some flavor of the novel which I’m in the final stages of preparing for publication through Smashwords in ebook form.  Whew!  That was a mouthful.  The title of the novel is Wanderer Come Home.

Our main character is 70-year-old Axel Browne.  The story takes place in 2018 and early 2019.  Axel is a veteran of the Vietnam War and served in 1967-1968 and was wounded the day before the famous Tet Offensive by the North Vietnamese Army.  But this is not a war story.  So there you have the broad strokes which define our Axel Browne.  Oh, but I forgot one important thing:  Upon returning home from the war, Axel could not reenter society in the traditional sense which means he had no desire to live the way most Americans live—with careers, bills, mortgages, and the rest.  Instead, he decided to become a wanderer—a homeless person who travels wherever his boots take him.

This type of life suited Axel well, however, because he was in search of something—or, I should say, someone—but even his friends did not know this about him.  He did not tell them about his search because, first of all, it was a very personal thing and, second, if he discussed it with anyone, they would probably think him touched, or something.  Now, at the beginning of our story, Axel realizes he’s probably already lost whatever opportunity he might have had, over his lifetime, of finding the girl for whom he has searched so long.  Oh, did I say “girl”?  Well, okay then, that’s right.  He has looked for a girl who, of course, now, would be a mature woman in her late fifties.

But there’s a second character who enters our story early on.  His name is Hunter Carr.  He’s in his late forties, happily married, and has been speedily climbing the ladder-to-success.  As the story opens, Hunter has reached the pinnacle of his career, to date, when, in a freak accident, he drowns in his own swimming pool.  With the drowning, he experiences what people call: “a near death experience” or NDE.  He revives from the drowning but the NDE messes up his perceptions of reality, success, and life in general.  Everyone who matters to Hunter, of course, wants him to “recover” which means they want him to return to the same person he was before the pool accident.  The problem is he can’t.

Axel and Hunter do meet eventually under unusual circumstances.  But both men change the other’s life, unknowingly and profoundly, even before they meet in person for the first time.

It’s a story about how some of our mundane, everyday decisions accumulate to have life changing consequences.  But we never know which decisions change our fate or if they are somehow predestined.  And when our lives are changed profoundly, what do we do then?

See you around the block.

Geese In October

I thought I should give you a bit of something to read until I can get this blog-site fully up and operational. So I give you Chapter 43 – “Geese In October” of my soon-to-be-published novel: Wanderer Come Home.  Hope you enjoy.

43 – geese in october

As of yet, Annabel Stiles had no idea what had triggered Axel’s breakdown. Because of certain anomalies which were part of her youth, Annabel had made a decision a long time ago not to live in the past. In fact, it was unusual for her to even think about the past, and why on earth she had brought it up to an almost complete stranger like Axel, she had no idea. That will teach me, she thought, bring up the past and see what happens? A perfectly calm man falls apart!

She had made it her motto that whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, except, in this case, “Vegas” equaled The Past. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of it, necessarily. It was just that it presented such a huge tangled mystery which she knew she could never unravel. So why crack your brain over a riddle that defies reality? she thought; it’s unproductive.

From Annabel’s point of view, her own life could be divided into three distinct segments: life before Tom Stiles; life during Tom Stiles; and life after Tom Stiles. Tom Stiles had been “the biggest mistake of my life” according to Annabel, and their brief courtship and marriage marked the transition period between Annabel’s former life and present life.

Her former life was full of acrimony and that’s why she chose to put it away and avoid it. The acrimony happened because Annabel had experiences, beliefs, and strongly held opinions that rubbed other people’s religious assumptions and social mores the wrong way. Such was the case with her Aunt Connie—her mother’s sister—who disowned Annabel and denounced her as a heretic against the Christian faith because Annabel claimed to believe in reincarnation. But Annabel was not a heretic, of course, she was not even a non-conformist. She was merely a young person who had always had dreams, actual dreams, at night. And they weren’t even surrealistic dreams or nightmares. They were just dreams about living life as a different person which convinced Annabel that somehow they must be true dreams and the people who populated those dreams must have existed in the physical world at some point in time.

As a teen she learned about reincarnation and it was a watershed for her. All of the puzzle pieces finally fell into place. Suddenly the dreams were no longer the byproduct of an overactive imagination, as her mother always saw them, but reincarnation gave them substance, a plausible explanation, accepted by even scholarly individuals. This is it, she thought, I’ve been reincarnated and the dreams are my memories of a past life. Other people know about this stuff and it’s real, she was convinced.

But long before the epiphany of reincarnation, Annabel kept journals. She started at about age eight. She wrote down the stories of her dreams, as well as she could, in notebooks and in so doing, over the years, collected a great deal of information about the who? what? when? and where? of her other life. She collected dates, addresses, and the names of people and places. In the dreams, she even experienced her own death as the little girl named Dixie Larsen. That, of course, was tremendously upsetting to her the first time it happened.

After reaching puberty the frequency of Annabel’s dreams began to slowly diminish but her interest in them did not. She began her own surreptitious research and investigation to find out if, indeed, Dixie and the Larsen family existed or had ever existed and, if so, where.

One day in 1980, at the Lincoln County Library in Libby, she found that a Mackinaw Ferry did exist—in Indiana. So she wrote the city to ask if they had a city map she might purchase. The city wrote her a nice letter in return and sent her a free map of Mackinaw Ferry.

Almost shaking with excitement, she opened the map and began studying the city, street-by-street, to see if the places she knew in her dreams existed there. She almost jumped out of her skin when her eyes fell upon the street labeled “Meridian Avenue”. That was the street where Dixie lived!

From that day forward Annabel began planning every detail of the trip she would one day make to Mackinaw Ferry. And she did, finally, make that trip on the weekend of May 24th and 25th, 1986. But the trip turned out to be a disappointment. The Larsen family—Dottie and Millie, mother and daughter—had moved away to no-one-knew-where after the father, Sam, died in early 1970. Brownie, the boy next door with whom Dixie spent so much time, had gotten drafted during the war, sent to Vietnam, and never returned. And other extended family had either died or scattered without keeping in touch with the local relatives. So it seemed like there was nothing left of her past life except dead ends.

When Annabel returned home, she didn’t throw away her notebooks, full of those dreams, but she stuffed them in a box and put them in the attic and, more or less, forgot about them. A few years later she met Tom Stiles and, well, soon enough she had two children to raise and a ranch to try to keep on its feet and had only her mother as support because her marriage to Tom, by then, had failed.

After that, Life took over and childish dreams of Mackinaw Ferry and the Larsen family, like geese in October, flew away.