I've been feeling kind of down lately.

The news is full of war plans with Iraq and nuclear weapon saber-rattling in North Korea. Annual budget battles are ongoing in Washington, the Tristate, my pocketbook.

Even the sun is refusing to shine much these days.

But, just in time, a small distraction breaks through the winter blahs. An important anniversary approaches.

It's been a year since Cinci Freedom, that bovine bent on survival, bolted over a meatpacker's fence in Camp Washington and eluded helicopters, heat-seeking scanners, horses, hunters and Good Morning America's cameras for 12 days, finally winning freedom after recapture Feb. 27.

Out to pasture

Since then, the Clifton Cow, as some like to call her, has been relaxing with other unthreatened animals at a farm sanctuary in upstate New York.

Like her original flight for freedom, the anniversary couldn't come at a better time for professional artist Tom Lohre and easily pleased art admirers like me.

Lohre is a Clifton artist who is better known for portraits and landscapes than for serendipitous works of whimsy. Over the past 20 years, he has sold more than 1,400 paintings, he says; 80 percent are in collections around the globe.

"I've worked at it all my life, painting for myself and for others," says Lohre, 50.

"I usually paint important national events. I painted Mount St. Helens after it erupted. I painted the first shuttle launch. I've painted the planets Voyager has encountered. Now I'm painting the Clifton cow."

Can you blame him for being cow-captivated? Inspiration hit once that cream-and-brown Charolais took temporary residence in Mount Storm Park, a block from Lohre's home.

Cows escape from meatpacking plants and slaughterhouses all the time, but usually they're caught quickly and returned, anonymous, to their fate.

This cow's independent attitude and fame didn't fade, even after tranquilizers slowed her enough for capture. Not only was she spared, she was booked to host the Reds' Opening Day parade, but she was too jumpy. Mayor Charlie Luken presented her with a key to the city, though.

Lohre first painted her last summer, from memory and news clips. The cow was in no mood to pose for anybody. The first rendering made it onto Fourth of July invitations to a Clifton block party. Then his wife and a neighbor sought portraits of Cincinnati's most hallowed heifer. Then came half a dozen other orders.

Recently, Lohre added three cow paintings to his portfolio available for purchase online. Prices range from $500 to $1,000 for originals; $15 for prints. They're watercolors, oil on canvas and sepia watercolors.

In one, a plump and prissy Cinci Freedom calmly pauses near a gaslight in an urban park. She could be presiding over a picnic, beef-less of course.

Then there are two more exciting portraits of her kicking her heels high, almost like a bucking bronco, near the aging elegance of a cupola in the park.

Lohre imagines that's how Cinci Freedom looked, bounding over that fence.

He painted a night scene, where the cow appears to jump over the moon in the background.

"It's in an old classical style,'' he says of his paintings, "not unlike the Italian renaissance.''

Not so stuffy, though.

Like any fine portrait artist, Lohre treats his subject like royalty, capturing her dignity, beauty and her fire.

Visit Lohre's Web site.

E-mail damos@enquirer.com or phone 768-8395