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.
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!
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…
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
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.
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.
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.
04/15/2017
Stringed instruments often contain a dizzying array of mathematical geometries; the length and/or thickness of strings, the placement of frets, the bodies themselves. All of it designed to produce the harmonic frequencies we hear as notes and chords arising from vibrating strings. But what is vibration, if not a wave? Reduce a wave, or for that matter the vibration of the string, to their mathematical bases and you have a simple sine wave, an oscillation between two points at a regular frequency.
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.
04/15/2017
Sound upon sound, wave upon wave, a simple strum of a stringed instrument produces a series of notes that can combine to produce a harmonious chord. Sound is a wave after all, and every wave forms from smaller waves, ripples even, joining each other in a synergy of moving water, liquid chords in the key of H2O.
This painting is another reminder that 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.
04/14/2017
Many instruments have within their design a method of capturing, redirecting, focusing, and amplifying the otherwise not-quite-so-extraordinary sounds produced by whichever simple vibrating element they employ. When those vibrations bounce off chambers, refract around curving elements, they refract, combine, and grow to a beautiful pitch, much like a wave as it approaches shallow waters. Canyons, reefs, points and sandbars- these determine the acoustics of moving water. The geometries of curved wood, arcing metals, stretched skins- these form the underwater topographies of sound. It’s all in how you hear it.
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.
04/13/2017
Percussion, it’s the foundation of music. It’s been here all along, discernible all around and within us, from water’s rhythmic waves to our own heartbeats pumping our saltwater life force through our bodies. From the basic repetition emerges increasing complexities, and with a human intellect at the helm becomes the very structure upon which song is built.
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.
04/03/2017
Well, this winter wasn’t really all that much longer or darker than usual, but still, we hadn’t seen the sun for a few wet weeks here on the coast.
When it finally returned it felt as though the sun itself had awoken like a bear from hibernation, blinking, sniffing the air, and without hesitation leaving the darkness of its winter cave and setting out on its path across the sky in search of a long awaited meal with which to break its winter fast.
Last I recalled, everything was gray and wonderful, and the beauty of the muted earth was sufficient to keep my aesthetic appetite fully satisfied.
But then with the sun’s hungry growl, came the new green grass, so vibrant it nearly hurt to look at for long. I had to retreat into the shadows myself just to survive this painting. I was found mumbling incoherencies as I was finishing up. The only thing they could make out was something about needing a brighter green.
They snapped me out of it by waving a sandwich around, but it was a close call for a minute there.
-Entry on April 3, 2017
03/15/2017
I had tried to paint from this spot recently but couldn’t because of the wind. Even with a better light wind forecast it was still a bit dicey out here at times. Wind funnel slot canyon on a north facing cliff in spring in Humboldt. Yep. Translation: windy, even on a calm day. Took a bit of extra thought during setup and breakdown as the drop is vertical just to the left of the frame and a long way straight down to the water. One bad gust whipping the wrong way and there’d be no retrieving anything that took flight. Nothing blew away, though so it’s all good.
03/01/2017
We had some good sunny weather a few days ago, and I got it in my head to go up the coast and hike to the top of our local headland there and paint the view looking north. I had the exact vantage point in my mind with vertical rock faces framing one side of the painting but deep atmospheric distance plummeting away up the coast on the other. It would take some scrambling to get all my gear to the little zone with the view I wanted, but nothing too problematic. Well… except for the wind. I was just so excited to see a clear sky forecast after all the rain, that I ran out without thinking of that pesky wind factor. Needless to say, it was a no go. Howling north winds were slamming full force into the promontory I wanted to perch upon. I figured since I live around here, I can always come back on a calmer day and kept going around the leeward side of the head to see what views were on offer on this winter afternoon.
I’d thought of doing a studio piece from this perspective years ago, I even have a file full of images taken with a zoom lens to get this unusual angle of a very familiar zone. I never considered painting it in plein air as the entire frame of the composition is only about two finger widths at arms length due to the distance across Trinidad bay. Not a lot of visual information to work with, a rather flat atmosphere (again due to everything in the painting being a long distance away), and a really awkward compositional problem with no real foreground to work with made this one a bigger challenge than I had expected. I could have included some plants from the side of the trail I was on and peering over, but thought it would distract from this near aerial perspective, so instead I just hammed up the swell lines and foam trails in the water down there to give the eye a bit of enjoyment down there.
While I did have higher hopes for this one (I think I always do for all of them), I am pretty stoked to have come away with a different perspective of a familiar spot.
