Back to Shore
Matt Beard
Pray for Her
And They Said It Would Rain
Tracking South
Hot Tomales
Standing Watch
We’ve rounded the corner now
We’ve found
The hole in the fence
We’ve crossed that line
And conceived
Of new horizons
Now we stand watching
And
Waiting
For
The old roads
To wash into the sea
Windless
Back in Black
Aqueduct
Every river flows to the sea… except this one. It flows to LA. Drink up southern California.
Architecture of Flow
This was a recent live art piece I did to benefit the surf and skate club at Trinidad School. I had a few buddies and a handful of kids skating past my paint table and grabbing brushes to drag across the canvas set up a few yards away, then circle back to relay another pass. Did that for 20 or 30 passes or so then went to work building the painting on the architecture of flow they had laid out.
Stage Left
Painted live from start to finish during one solid set from Absynth Quartet at Redwood Curtain Brewery last Saturday. This was the second event I painted at on Saturday. Never done two of these in a single day before, but I guess they don’t take too long so why not?
Acoustic Dunescape
Photosynthesis
Up to the Stairs
Stone Cold
In a Mood
Some days are better than others for curiously overheated gas station coffee
Made with the press of a button
Something Fishy
With a bucket full of mackerel, he explained why the water was a fancy shade of green.
The fancy cats that live in the rocks were only green with envy.
Point Saint Patricks
A River’s End
Bending Lines
You know those painters you see outside on sunny days with their fancy umbrellas, leisurely painting away on the manicured park lawn? I don’t know if they’ve spent much
time in the coastal zone.
I recently got one of those fancy umbrellas for myself. Seemed like a great idea at the time. I even got one that was silver on top to reflect heat and black underneath to
reduce glare, and with about 87 different clamp options to attach to nearly anything. It really is a marvel of modern engineering.
And it’s basically worthless. I used it as I was painting this one on a beautiful windless day until what I’d call a very light breeze finally came up, not much, but magnified by the cliff-face beneath me, and that thing warped itself into all manners of hideous misshapes and bending lines, an origami of umbrellic obscenities, threatening to topple my whole easel and send it down the cliff. I will not be using it again.
On the brighter side, I really like how this turned out and solved a nagging visual problem, using simple horizontal strokes to define bending lines of swell.
Now that is something I will use again.
-Entry on February 16, 2015
Winter Sun
We’ve spent long days here
North of the river
We’ve spent
Our last two dimes
On
Heaven
And waffles
And a good night’s sleep
Sheltered
From the falling snow
Until the storm blew over
And now we ourselves
Are spent
Worn out
Like the two
Ragged
Dog blankets
In the back of the van
One more look at the ocean
Before we head home
And two things
Become clear
We’re not going home tonight
And
We’re gonna smell like dog
In the morning
Dirty Hippy Camp
Watch Out For Ticks
Convergence
Through the Woods
