Artwork Notes & Backstories


Heaven’s Fourth Foundation

06/19/2017

How’s that cryptic title? Don’t worry I’m not starting some sort of religious new age cult or anything. I just have a tradition with my coastal paintings of not naming locations in the titles, but often providing obscure wordplay cues to the locations. I do this partly because as a surfer, no matter how much the internet gives all of our secrets to the masses, it is still taboo to name many of the places I paint in public forums such as this. The other reason is that I still need to be able to recall which painting someone is asking about when they inquire about a piece by it’s title and if I have dozens of paintings called “Afternoon Light on the Coast” well that won’t really help much will it? The wordplay references just serve to jog my memory as to which is what when I need to recall them later.

What’s all that got to do with this title?Well, perhaps it was just the overwhelming beauty of the place that gave a feeling of heaven on earth here, or maybe it was the elevation- being over a mile high in the sky. But either way as I named these pieces a somewhat biblical​ theme emerged. This is one of the most iconic bay views in all of Tahoe, sharing its name with the precious stone listed as the fourth stone in the foundation of the New Heaven in the Book of Revelation. Cryptic? Yes, but it serves its purpose all the same.

Sidenote: If I were to die today, I’d far rather go out with this view in my mind than the stone it’s named after in my hand. No doubt about that.

It should also be noted if we’re going to speak of nearness to heaven that this is the only painting of my trip that had water from the skies fall upon it while painting. The big round dollops fell steadily, but sparsely for only a few minutes, making only the subtlest of splashes and drips in the underpaint stage. But it was dicey for a minute there.


Eden Revisited

06/18/2017

Just after I had things blocked in on this one with a crisp afternoon light, a thunderhead developed to the south and within minutes the whole sky went gray. Had to make a choice, follow the changing conditions, or just wing it and make stuff up. Sometimes clouds bring out colors that sunlight washes out in the landscape. I wasn’t feeling it this time, so this became effectively a studio piece painted on location*, but no longer referencing much of the scene before me other than it’s most basic architecture, just operating on memory and instinct.

This is also the only piece from the trip that includes any human figures. It’s not that I intentionally avoid figures, I just don’t focus on them much. In this case, it was their interaction with the lake that carried the whole story here so there you have it. Humanity introduced in a pristine setting. Eden revisited.


Fit for a King

06/17/2017

Named for the stretch of coast nearby, King’s beach, it’s easy to see why a place this beautiful would belong to a King. That said, he’s lost some territory this year as the heavier than normal snowfall melting into the lake has the water level several feet higher than normal and this beach, like many others found itself nearly completely underwater. I found the only patch of sand I could to work from and even then I stood in ankle deep water getting a fairly proper chill on an otherwise hot day. The entire session was peppered with confusion of beachgoers arriving to their annual beach day on the northern shore of Tahoe only to find there was no… beach. But the water, oh my, the water. High tide on Tahoe is pretty awesome all the same. I’m sure the King is pretty stoked on his view as well.


West of Heaven

06/16/2017

I was undoubtedly the highest I’ve ever been while painting this one. Wait. not like that. I mean the highest elevation- 9,123 feet above sea level to be exact. Heavenly is the name of the ski resort here on the California/Nevada border and we arrived to the first day of the summer gondola running visitors up the hill for an expansive view of the entire Sea of Tahoe. From somewhere around the point where that central tree breaks the view of Tahoe’s shore in the foreground and sweeping all the way to the left then right into the far distance where the shore again disappears behind the tree on the far right, that is the entire East Coast of California in one painting.

Painting on this public observation deck was full of distractions with a higher than normal dose of confusing questions from the admiring public like: “do you do this on your own, or do you sell these?”…. um….?

Anyway, within these distractions an 8 year old girl wandered by who spoke no discernable english and watched enthralled, to the growing impatience of her younger brother. At times her mother had to pull her back as she wanted to put her face so close to the action I was worried I’d accidently paint a rainbow on her cheek and get busted for running an unauthorized facepainting scheme to profit from the tourist traffic. After several minutes of her being allowed by her family to indulge her fascination, she uttered the first english word to her family that I heard. Very clearly and unmistakably she said “Impressionism”. I thought that was pretty cool, even though the only impression I was giving through the painting at that stage was that of a snow-blinded elephant washing it’s back with river mud. Still, though, I strive to carry on in a long and deep tradition of California Impressionist artists, so it was great to hear the word uttered from the mouth of such a young person who clearly knows more about what I do than I would have at her age.

By the way, my entire Tahoe series is sold out (say what? That happened fast!), but I will be showing them all at my gallery before shipping them off. Stay tuned.


In the Beginning

06/16/2017

Arriving to Tahoe for the first time we approached from the south after traversing Echo Summit. The exposed granite boulders of the Pie Shop (what they call that hill in the mid upper right) in the distance gave just a hint of the aroma of the delicious feast of Earth’s wonder that was to come in the following days. The bits of snow still clinging to the shaded hill in the 80 degree heat was now a distant echo of the long dark and cold winter months that blanketed this area with more snow than recent memory could recall. And the fallen tree a reminder that life is never easy.. and even more so here in this place, in spite of its indescribable beauty.

Did I mention the mosquitoes? Talk about blood, sweat, and tears. Well not so much tears but those little bloodsuckers forced me to put on the only jacket I had on hand, a full on hooded puffy warm and toasty jacket. The hood was great to keep those buggers off my neck, but oh my, I think I may have sweated out an organ or two inside that little sauna.


A Strong Inclination

06/15/2017

This is the first painting I did in Tahoe. It was a real puzzle for me trying to sort out the values in the painting with that blinding white snow on the surrounding ridges. I kept feeling like everything should be lighter because of the distance, then I’d lose the contrast that would make that flat white snow appear so bright. I never really did figure it out, but had a ton of fun staring at that water all the same.

The town on the distant shore beneath the snowy peaks is called Incline Village, though that has less to do with the title than the allure of that ice cold water on a hot day, giving one a strong inclination to jump in, no matter how much the shock to one’s system the cold would bring.


I’m Going In!

06/15/2017

Close to the water’s edge and just around that boulder point known as Bonsai Rocks. By the time I was done with this one, staring so closely into that crystalline water while sweating in the sun, there was no holding back. 

I’m going in!

Wow, Tahoe. You’re cold. That hurt.


Geometries of Love

05/18/2017

Not plein air, but quickly painted in a public setting from a blurry overcast bootlegged photo, so not exactly a studio painting either…

This was done as a gift for the family that opened their home to me during my recent stay in San Diego. They spend their anniversaries down here every year, and though it isn’t technically within my usual range, figured it would be an appropriate gesture nonetheless.


Observation: North

05/16/2017

The view looking north from this science research pier. I could have approached this totally differently and used the perspective to really go after the unique view of the coast from just offshore, leaving out all the railing and hoists and sciency stuffs, but that wouldn’t really tell the whole story would it?

Big thanks to my friend Bruce who got me out there on this recent trip and made this series happen. Looking forward to touring the boat someday as well!


Observation: South

05/16/2017

While I am generally drawn to cliffside overlooks with sweeping views out to the water, I also find the occasionally more unusual perspective pretty irresistible, especially when it’s one that requires a key and a scientist on your side to gain access to a pier and observation deck that are otherwise closed to the public.

Back when I first went off to college at Humboldt State University I was an oceanography major for about a semester and a half before switching to art. During those brief oceanography years I always figured I’d end up tooling around working on this pier one day…


The Glider

05/13/2017

Skip Frye Tribute.

An interpretation of a classic Ron Stoner image of Skip paddling out at Cojo, from the Surfer Magazine Archives

Painted live start to finish last night with Skip in the room. Think about that for a second.


Cliff Hanger

05/12/2017

While I tend toward the pulled back views looking up or down the coast until the atmospheric haze obscures the landscape features off in the distance, it’s nice to change it up from time to time and absorb a more intimate view of the unique coastal features in a given location.


Another Facet

05/12/2017

One of the most often painted stretches of beach in California, I’ve even painted from similar vantage points up here myself. It’s always fun to come back though- every day, every time, every painting by myself or others, each simply reveals yet another facet of this Jewel of California.


Imminent Domain

05/11/2017

Had to spend a few afternoons​ here to complete this larger-than-I-normally-work plein air at the site of what once was the central hub of this coastal town, complete with a railroad station, dance hall, hotel, schoolhouse and an enclosed tidal pool for the turn of the century folk who would settle there. Remains of the short lived pool can still be seen at low tide beneath the eroded cliffs here. As with most coast towns, lots of changes have come through the years, along with occasional use of imminent domain laws.

That has nothing to do with my title here though. My first day painting here I figured I’d paddle out to sample the rolling reef waves out front on a hot afternoon. The second I make it outside and sit up on my board I’m confronted with the sight of a rather triangular dorsal fin lurking maybe 30-40 feet away. As I’m processing this sight, trying to conform this shape with a dolphin’s dorsal to no avail, and realizing it’s just barely moving and hovering on the surface as no dolphin I’ve ever seen would do, it’s snout barely breaches the surface as a wave passes by. A pointed angular snout, none of the characteristic bottle shape of a dolphin. That sealed the deal for me and I turned and slowly paddled in, trying to avoid sudden movement and attention. About halfway to shore, I realize I should probably spread the word to the handful of surfers on the inside reform just a bit north. They didn’t seem concerned, thought it was a dolphin, and said they’d never seen anything like that there. I said ok, and promptly caught the next crummy closeout in. Obligation: fulfilled.

Over 20 years of surfing in Humboldt’s notoriously sharky waters I’d never seen anything up close like this. The next two weeks were full of sightings around the area, and this was just days after the attack further up the coast near Ofre. A reminder of whose domain we play in.


Number 9

05/10/2017

I’d been driving past this little slot canyon for years wondering if I’d ever get out there to paint someday. It looks out over the wetlands that are fed by the tidal inlet at that reef way out in the distance. I’ve painted that reef from plenty of other angles (beach level, the cliff at the beach, the road behind the inlet, a friend‘s roof, etc). Off the top of my head I can roughly count about 8 previous times I’ve painted that reef, which would make this one number 9.

This was a commission for a woman who goes out walking on these wetland trails regularly. I met up with her one morning to see what she had in mind and the trails led straight back to this canyon. She was open to any view of the area that inspired me, and with a natural slot canyon and open space like this in the middle of the congestion of this county’s coast, it was not hard to be inspired. It was crazy foggy though. Had to go surf for a few hours waiting for it to burn off. An afternoon hike, hopped fence and scramble or two up a few narrow ravines later, and I was at the top of the entire canyon, uninterrupted for the next
couple hours. I love my job.

-Entry on May 10, 2017


Time Rolls Slowly Uphill

05/09/2017

The morning before painting this I had done a demo for a friend’s high school art class down on the beach below these hills. I felt like I sorta botched that one a bit, (I had higher hopes for it anyway) . He took his students to a Museum in Laguna Beach afterwards and I tagged along. The front room held several pieces from the early California impressionist masters, William Wendt, Edgar Payne, and others. As the class toured on, I stayed put and absorbed those pieces for an hour or so. Leaving there I was fired up to go paint, and had spotted a promising trailhead earlier in the week so I went after it in the fading afternoon light. It was a pretty good workout getting to this vantage point, but once here it was like standing in one of those paintings from 100 years ago. Sure the coast highway has exploded with development, but up the hills in these open spaces, time doesn’t seem to have budged.

Sidenote: this original will be on display in my gallery… er, van… this weekend during my North Coast Open Studios event at Trinidad Head. Come check it and chat art while standing in my van. Not creepy or awkward at all. All are welcome. (Maximum occupancy: 3 – but I’ll set up a pop-up tent beside the van so you can stay dry and cook up some coffee until there’s room in the van… er, gallery.


The Light on the Knoll

05/08/2017

Commission from recent road trip. One of the more challenging commissions I’ve had in awhile. Mainly because there were incredibly fun lefts peeling over the reefs all morning just down the hill to the right. Left to my own ways I don’t think there is ever a time I’d choose to paint up the hill to lighthouse instead of down the hill to peeling reef surf, but that’s part of the fun of commissioned work: stepping outside of my vision and into another’s.


So Close, But So Far Away

05/05/2017

Long walk to get here, hot day, no way to get down this cliff and into the water. Not complaining, just stating facts… in a complainey sorta way.

On another topic, Southern California was fun in April/May, caught the tail end of the Bloom and these yellow flowers were seemingly everywhere.


The Writing on the Wall

05/01/2017

There’s a lot that went into making this painting that you wouldn’t know just by looking at it…

Trespassing, for starters. It wasn’t exactly private property, but the city here had this area blocked off and clearly out of bounds. Walking the perimeter, I observed a well-maintained fence- every hole patched up, no gaps to be found. Which brings us to the next unobvious thing worth noting…

The only access was by crawling around the edge of a steep cliff with a 4o-pound mobile studio packed on my back, fingers hanging on the last section of rusty fence where the cliff beneath had eroded away.

Then there was the dodging of various junkies doing who knows what in the bushes. Yikes.

Oh, and wedging into a cliffside crevice to hide from the 45 mph winds blowing that day…

And finally being told to leave by the police. It’s true. No tickets or anything, they only gave tickets to the kids spray-painting those slabs off in the distance. They made their rounds, evicting everyone from the property until I was the last one. Fortunately, I was finished by the time I’d received my marching orders.

Some days are like this, but see? You wouldn’t have known all that unless I wrote it down.


March of History

04/28/2017

I’d been looking forward to painting this cove for a very long time. Surfing history runs deep here as this was one of the first locations in California to develop a dedicated surfing scene. Doc Ball was shooting water photographs here from atop a wooden surfboard back when they had to build their own water housings for their massive cameras before WWII. Needless to say, much of what we know as surfing culture was birthed on the beach and in the water of this cove.

I had a different view in mind, but the wind. Oh my. The wind. 

Around that corner and all along the outer edge of the path it came howling up the hillside. I get tired of fighting the wind, just as you’ll likely get tired of hearing me complain about it. What can I say? It’s a constant reality when painting these coastal bluffs that pick up every
whisper and turn them into howls.

After a few trips up and down the path, I found a little pocket of gulch to wedge myself into among these dancing spring flowers, and made the most of it.


Keep the Loonies on the Path

04/27/2017

Started this one a bit later in the afternoon than I typically would, after traversing the madness of the L.A. freeway complex, so I was part exhausted, part fired up to be out of the madness, and still in a rush to race the daylight.

Turned out to be a very enjoyable paint session, in spite of the occasional suspicious glares from the local crew driving by to check the surf. Maybe that was part of the fun, it’s all a part of the fabric of this place and I wouldn’t really want it any other way. Localism is wrong. And it’s the best thing ever. I don’t mind the dichotomy at all.

Somehow the ugly behavior of some of those who live here toward those who don’t has helped to preserve a beauty that would otherwise be lost. There are points both north and south of here that bear witness to this reality.

It’s unfortunate that it comes to this, but here we are, and it’s another beautiful evening in California.


All of the Above

04/26/2017

The name of this spot is translated in the native Indian tribe’s dialect as “Above”, referring to their settlements location above the floodwaters of this creek. Given it’s proximity to the Metropolis in the distance, it’s definitely a place where one sees anything and everything at times. It was also very hard to find parking for what it’s worth…


Sea of Gold

04/25/2017

Back when I began doing a lot of plein air work over 15 years ago, this was an early destination one spring while I was living in Southern California for a short time. I would spend the subsequent years developing my approach and focusing my art on the coastline (basically after a realization that painting on the coast meant I would have to spend a lot of time on the coast- not rocket science but it still took me years to see the beauty of that simple truth). So it was quite satisfying to return to this site and catch the tail end of a great season for California wildflowers.


Chromatic Water Theory VII: Chunk

04/15/2017

Much can be said of beautiful harmonies, but there is also a place in music for the discord, the feedback, the reverb, the chunks of rawness strewn about from a creative process that values expression above technical perfection. Even the ugly shorepound is beautiful to the bodysurfers. Oceanic mosh pits.

Every song has its roots in water.

This series was created live during the Redwood Coast Music Festival inside the Morris Graves Museum of Art. The overall concept of the series was to explore the connections between music and water, through a set of shared geometric structures.


Chromatic Water Theory VI: Platinum

04/15/2017

I painted this one during a Johnny Cash tribute set at the Eureka Theater during the Redwood Coast Music Festival while the painting (and occasionally my big fat head was projected on to a 30 foot screen behind the band). Slightly awkward, but hopefully a fun visual to compliment the music.

Thinking of Johnny Cash and the music he produced, it got me thinking of vinyl records. Like a drop in a pool of still water, the rings emanating outward from that single point. (I know it’s a spiral really, but song by song with the little spaces between em, they’re circles alright?) Those albums played the world over, each one like a stone tossed into another pond, resonating with listeners from all walks of life, reveal the power of music to speak to our souls.

Thank you John. Thank you.

Every song has its roots in water.

This series was created live during the Redwood Coast Music Festival inside the Morris Graves Museum of Art. The overall concept of the series was to explore the connections between music and water, through a set of shared geometric structures.