Artwork Notes & Backstories


Natural Defenses

02/12/2017

Last one from a recent trip to Orange County, and my first plein air from this historically significant plein air zone. I’m sure there are literally thousands of paintings out there from this vantage point, but until now none of them were mine. I haven’t been avoiding it intentionally, it’s just a nightmare to find parking most of the time. I’ll be back for more, it’s a pretty spectacular little nugget of California.

Also a first, I don’t recall painting a cactus before this either… Hundreds of paintings of the California coast and not one cactus? I know they’re not exactly everywhere, but still, that trips me out a bit. Fun forms to paint, looking forward to the next time they pop up in the foreground.


House of Romance, 1963: I Was Almost Never Born Here

02/12/2017

You ready for some personal Beard family history here?

On a recent trip south, a talented photographer friend and I spent a rainy afternoon cruising around to some of his favorite vantage points along the south Orange County coast.

One of the stops was a historical site called Casa Romantica. I’d never heard of it, and being these places often come with staff that won’t let you tromp around in the bushes hunting for the perfect view, I usually avoid them. They were closed on the day we showed up, we even tried all the side gates to no avail. In my mind, I’m thinking I dodged a bullet and maybe I’d never bother with the place again. He stresses that the view from the place is really something though and I trust him, so I’m still in the game, but maybe just barely.

I mention all this to my dad the next day and he drops this on me: apparently he spent a lot of time there back before the city owned the historical site. He ate in the dining room, swam in the pool, walked the down the hill to the beach, kissed miss San Clemente in the dark down there when nobody could see, nearly married that girl who was the daughter of the man who owned the place. This was around 1963. They were quite serious, heading toward marriage, and then things just went sideways. That was that. But it was a close call for my DNA. Good move, Pops!

But wait there’s more. I mention this whole thing to my wife’s folks who lived in San Clemente for a time back in the mid/late 60’s… and the plot thickens. Apparently my father in law had just found Christ in the Jesus Movement of the late 60’s and a man who he viewed as a mentor told him one day he needed to get a job and took him up the hill to Casa Romantica, where he was promptly hired as a groundskeeper and spent a few years “working” while checking the surf all day, waiting for just the right moment to take his breaks.

Far out. Small world.

Oh and yeah, this wasn’t completely plein air. I was kicked out when they closed the grounds for the day at 2 pm. Who closes anything at 2 pm on a Saturday? Had to finish at home later.

Sorry dads, if I botched any details.


Rainy Day Melody

02/10/2017

Another recent one from the Orange County coast. With all the weather and rain, I kept feeling like I was painting up north somewhere. Not the typical Socal Blues anyway…


While Lovely Rita Was Sleeping

02/09/2017

Plein air capturing the early morning marine layer view of the Orange County coast. Couldn’t see much out there in all that wet gray, so I pulled up on the side of the Coast Highway, and set up inside the van to paint the one thing I could see all too well. Since I blocked two parking spots to get this parking meter lined up with my side door, I played it safe and fed both of those hungry monsters all the change I could scrounge up, which only bought me about a half hour. I wasn’t quite done so I spent another 15 or so in front of the expired meters, but thankfully with no sign of the meter maid. Where would I be without her? Right here apparently, in the dismal wet fog of an OC winter morning.

Eating donuts as Jimi Hendrix quotes Bob
Dylan from beyond the horizon through a
Scratchy cassette tape while Lovely Rita
Was counting quarters in her sleep.


Salt Haze

02/09/2017

This was a rough one. The coast fog was super thick when I rolled up to paint here, but the sky was blue behind me on the hills looking inland and being only late morning when I was setting up, and with a nice forecast to look forward to, I’d reckoned things would likely clear up shortly. Got a few glimpses of shimmering soft light on the water in the early stages, then full gray out for the rest of the session. “All art is a lie” once again proves true. After packing up and driving literally about 1 mile I drove right out of this fog pocket and into the revelry of a clear blue sky. For the next few hours I painted a different spot and looking back up the coast I noticed my nemesis, this fog bank, never moved. Ah, such is life… And fog.


The Light Contagious

02/09/2017

One of the best things about plein air painting all over the California coast is that it requires me to post up and really watch the waves for several hours. By the time I wrapped this one up at sunset, I knew I’d be back the next morning, and where I’d sit in the line up. With the recent rains, it was a gamble of contagion roulette out there with the creek mouth open and flowing​ to sea. Scored some fun waves, but lost the game of roulette, my throat’s been sore for 2 weeks now.


Living Quarters

02/08/2017

Yep, an old water tower, a 76 VW bus, or… I guess an actual house fits the bill too. All of them quite livable. But only one of them will get you where you’re going and then strand you there with no way to leave. I’m not telling which.


Speaking Softly Like Light

02/04/2017

Painted this one not too long ago down on the central coast of California. This is the one I did during that video that I posted yesterday from @stwcoalition. They kept telling me to speak up, cause the light wind was muffling everything in the microphone. It was a bit of a challenge to stay focused on the painting and bring it through while talking art extensively with the Save the Waves crew. All in all, a great day at work.


Curb Appeal

01/17/2017

You can’t go wrong with coastal real estate in California. This extremely well constructed home, built around the turn of the year is a charming example of Beach Hobo architecture. Well thought out floorplan with charming curb appeal. Great place to raise a family. Seller is motivated.


A Wing and a Prayer

01/12/2017

Studio redux of recent live art concept. A few weeks back at a benefit for Standing Rock I painted a different version of a bird swooping down to grab a fish out of the water. In that one the bird was just a dark silhouette and the fish ended up with a non-intentional pacific northwest native vibes. Very Kwakiutl-esque. The end reselt gave the piece a very ominous tone in light of the conflict the tribe is currently facing. Such is art, BUT… since then I learned a bit more about the struggle between an osprey and its prey. Apparently, when a fish is first caught in the bird’s talons its immediate instinct is to dive for the safety of deep water. Powerful swimmers they are, and if an osprey grabs a fish that is a bit too large they have been known to be pulled under by the fish, unable or willing to release their hold, and dragged to their deaths below. This moment takes on a whole new meaning when understood in that light, so I figured it would be worth a reworking. Here’s to hoping the Standing Rock fish was underestimated by the DAPL bird.


Lonesome Valley

12/28/2016

Plein air from yesterday, super close to home, but at least a world and a half away…

Titled after Woody Guthrie’s song of the same name:

You gotta walk that lonesome valley,
You gotta walk it by yourself,
Nobody here can walk it for you,
You gotta walk it by yourself.

Some people say that John was a Baptist,
Some folks say he was a Jew,
But your holy scripture tells you
That he was a preacher too.

Daniel was a Bible hero,
Was a prophet brave and true,
In a den of hungry lions
Proved what faith can do for you.

There’s a road that leads to glory
Through a valley far away,
Nobody else can walk it for you,
They can only point the way.

Mamma and daddy loves you dearly,
Sister does and brother, too,
They may beg you to go with them,
But they cannot go for you.

I’m gonna walk that lonesome valley,
I’m gonna walk it by myself,
Don’t want to nobody to walk it for me,
I’m gonna walk it by myself.


Study Break

December 21, 2016

Always fun to paint from 500 feet up. UFO view of kelp beds, bending lines, and the likely culprit of many a failed college exam.


Grass Fed

December 20, 2016

um… not plein air

Music is like math, where math allows us to see the inner workings of the physical world around us, music allows us to see the inner workings of the non-physical world within us.

What?


Water is Life

12/15/2016

If we look to the seasons we see that darkness comes in cycles, offset by rhythms of light. And yet the darkness has never felt so loud as the discordant anthem of this asymphonic night.

We are tempted to see this present moment as the cold oppression of a tangible force. A standing army of arguments against our better angels. Generals, officers and even pawnsmen making strategy behind the fireless smoke. Tanks and armor. Bullets, bayonets, and words.

Yes, words. Words meant for good twisted beyond recognition. Word as a weapon. Word as a poison. Word as the famine, the plague, the killing of every firstborn. Word as the ultimate tool of victory and defeat. Word delivered in a flash of blinding light, deceptively cloaking darkness behind it’s insatiable heat.

We begin to think of darkness in terms of the battle as though might just might make right after all and light might somehow be wrong.

Don’t be fooled. There is no darkness. It is not a thing of itself, it is only the momentary absence of light. As long as there is love and beauty and a song to be sung, darkness is already defeated before it has even begun.


Isthmus Interrupted: Most of the Time She Can’t be Reached

12/12/2016

The isthmus here is only passable at the lower tides, leaving the rock island on the right unreachable for most of every day. I’ve always been fascinated by the bending of wave energy around both sides of the island on the higher tides. Getting to this vantage point with all my paint gear wasn’t easy, but that is all part of the fun.


Poetry of Geological Ideas

12/01/2016

We really do have some beautiful coastline around here. While still technically a part of the California coast, this zone feels like another time and place altogether.

Pretty sure it was Einstein that said pure mathematics was the poetry of logical ideas. In that sense I reckon pure plein air painting  is maybe a poetry of geological ideas.


I’ll be Ever’where, Ma

11/29/2016

Painted this one two days ago for a friend. Without going into much detail, I chose the title from Tom Joad’s farewell to his mother in Grapes of Wrath. As I painted this much loved beach from an overview perspective not often seen, I thought of many that I have had to say goodbye to over the years and how there are times and places where we can almost feel as close to them as when they were still with us, perhaps closer even. A thick dark forest, impenetrable and full of mystery, seems a pretty fair metaphor for where they go who’ve left their earthly tents behind. From there they watch over us. So what then?

Tom Joad: Then it don’t matter. I’ll be all aroun’ in the dark – I’ll be ever’where. Wherever you can look – wherever there’s a fight, so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever there’s a cop beatin’ up a guy, I’ll be there. I’ll be in the way guys yell when they’re mad. I’ll be in the way kids laugh when they’re hungry and they know supper’s ready, and when the people are eatin’ the stuff they raise and livin’ in the houses they build – I’ll be there, too.

Ma: I don’t understand it, Tom.

Tom Joad: Me, neither, Ma, but – just somethin’ I been thinkin’ about.


Fixer Upper

11/17/2016

I was hoping to go further up the coast but the midday high tide and a deeply eroded beach combined with solid swell prevented me from going much further than this little beach hut. Not that I didn’t try, it got pretty dicey around that corner. Timed my way around a few bends between sets but progress was slow and up the coast lines of whitewater were smashing all the way to the cliff face that I had hoped to reach. Stood and watched for a good long time, pondered a few potential outcomes, and finally retreated back to this little fort and made the most of it. Wish I had the family with me, the kids would have fixed this place up nice.


Perfect from Afar

10/07/2016

One of the last paintings from recent Santa Cruz trip. This is the California I love. Open, accessible, space with occasionally great waves. In order to paint these places, I have to visit them in person. It’s one of my favorite perks of this job. I hear of parts of the east coast where private properties rule and effectively block out all public access to the coastline for exceedingly large stretches. Makes me thankful for all who have worked so hard in this state to weave public access to this natural resource into the fabric of our coastal communities. Places the public has enjoyed for years cannot easily be purchased and made private regardless of the weight of wealth being thrown around*. There’s some heavy battles raging on this front right now, but regardless of the outcomes, this is California, we will find ways through your fences and not feel bad about it at all. We’re happy to share the shore with the monied class even if they refuse to share it with us. That said, hats off to the folks on the front lines. It sure is nice to be able to leisurely stroll out on the trails to places like this.

*There are restricted private lands that benefit us all as well. The key here is preservation. If its a matter of keeping a coastline preserved in its natural state, sometimes private interests serve this purpose best… its case by case really. But buy a bunch of beachfront land and build it full of castles and walls to keep the commoners out of the places they enjoyed for generations and I reckon you’re asking for your castles to fall into the sea. We will not weep for your loss. We will rejoice gladly and use chunks of the shattered foundations of your fortresses to build makeshift stairs down the goat path we used before you ever came along.


A Pleasant Arrangement

10/06/2016

He was sitting out on his porch that afternoon. The day was getting late but the setting sun was still warm as he stared out over the water. I never knew him but his house stood there, looming large over this coastal scene. It must have been a pleasant arrangement. What better place to ride out one’s final days than sitting comfortably at home and staring out at an always changing display of natural glory? The dance of light upon the water, now penetrating and revealing the dark depths, later reflecting, casting an upward dance of shimmering angels soaring back to heaven.

-Entry on October 6, 2016

Post-Edit: He passed away not long after I’d hopped his distant neighbor’s fence to paint this scene looking back toward his house while he sat in the fading light of the sun. Thousands of surfers would come to honor his life and help shoulder the burden of loss that his passing wrought on this community. They paddled out and formed a circle in the water more than a half mile across, kept warm by their grateful hearts.

-Entry on June 18, 2017


Lost in the Shuffle

10/06/2016

Sometimes I find myself painting subjects that are a bit more involved than I’d like, but in order to eventually cover the entire California coast, I just can’t avoid them. Here is one of those. Quite challenging, one day I hope to sort out a better approach to these scenes that look out over rows of buildings like this. That said, I have done much worse in the past so its good to see bit of progress at least…


Silent Conversations: Long Departed

10/03/2016

I’ve heard this site was one of the oldest human settlements in North America. Long departed now, nothing remains but a hill of discarded shells surrounded by windblown dunes. And the wind. The wind has always been here. It was already blowing steady with undertones of far greater force to come and it was only mid morning. I had a dilemma. There was a broad rocky plateau from which a finger of precipice extended. The plateau had nice views and was lined by an eroded dirt bank providing excellent wind block. The view I sought was out on that finger though, and as it was the wind was blowing full force into it, slamming into the face and rushing over it toward the caves. A dicey spot to paint from to be sure. In these times I always take a moment to seek direction. Even in the noise of life there is always Silence around us, and within that Silence, a Voice, easy to miss, but impossible to ignore. “Go out to the edge and paint. Beauty is never without risk. I am with you” Ok. It was quite an ordeal getting set up, requiring total concentration on each movement and considerations of flight risks for each element involved in my painting process. In the midst of all this, other voices were present in the wind. Not threatening voices, but not welcoming either. The Silent Voice seemed to be speaking back to them and I was in awe of the conversation taking place around and within me while standing out on this precipice unknown and unseen by a single soul. Mists of white blew past me as I painted, passing over the precipice I was standing on and swirling down into the caves below. I wasn’t sure what to make of them until one blew right into me and I found myself being pelted by sand. From where? The nearest dune around was the base of the mound left behind by the ancients a hundred yards up the coast. Nature’s poetry. A more appropriate body for these voices could never be found. Quite relieved that myself, and every bit of my gear, and this painting (embedded with sand) all survived without taking flight. Thanks be to Silence.


Quiet Water

10/02/2016

To be honest, Santa Cruz stresses me out a bit. Crazy, crazy place… but I like it. That said it was great to get out of the hamster maze for a bit today. A friend treated me to some epic midday views up a private road way up the coast and I followed that up with this quick afternoon sketch from a path less travelled overlooking a place I’ve enjoyed visiting (although infrequently) for years. The wind howled pretty good while I painted this, but looking down on this pond nestled into a hook of coastal bluffs you wouldn’t know it. Smooth as glass, and quiet as could be. Something in me needed this today. Thankful to have the opportunity to walk this earth, life is beautiful. Find some quiet water and reflect when you have a minute. You won’t regret it. 


For Miles and Miles

10/02/2016

The last plein air painting from last months trip. (18 paintings, 12 days, 1 parking ticket…)

This particular stretch of California coastline intrigues me. Miles of coastal bluffs lined to the edge with row upon row of crops, a highly productive and active agricultural zone, and dotted with sculpted points and coves so abundant you always feel like you’re maybe missing something up the coast a bit. It’s gonna take more than a few trips to really sort this zone out in my mind, but I’m looking forward to all of them. Beauty for miles, but not without challenges…

The wind was howling at my back as I painted this one. Rarely did my hand leave the easel for fear of losing my gear off the cliff into rocky tidepools below, which would have been doubly troublesome due to the audience of surfers that sat just about in the middle of the painting (I somehow don’t always include them…) I can’t imagine the grief if I’d lost my gear off the cliff in front of that pack. I’d get run out of town most likely. Always a relief to survive a windy paint session and return with the painting in tact. I was so focused on handling the wind logistics here that I sorta painted this one on autopilot. Wasn’t till I got back and looked at it with the others that I realized how much I really like this one, it brings me back every time I look at it.


This Spot is Gone But You’re Still Here

10/01/2016

I’d heard about a homegrown skatebowl on some farmer’s field overlooking this coast for years. I even went looking for it once, but in all the wrong places. I’d gotten a tip from a knowledgeable source this time, though, so I’d be making a visit on this trip and hopefully coming away with a painting of a truly unique spot on the California Coast.

There were no cars around when I arrived. Nice and quiet, but an ominous vibe hung in the air. I see a pile of rubble on a berm above me, brightly colored spray paint on each block in the pile. This must be the spot. As I near the top and get my first look around, I’m confronted with an unexpected scene.

“THIS SPOT IS GONE BUT YOU ’RE STILL HERE” is spraypainted on the last remaining portion of curved concrete bowl. The rest is jackhammered into pieces and strewn
about this bluff.

Well, it was true, the spot was gone but I was still there and may as well do what I came to do, so I painted this.

The word I heard when I got back to town is that they must have just bulldozed it within the last week or so. Many folks hadn’t even heard it was gone yet.

RIP cool skate spot. At least your epic view still remains.

-Entry on October 1, 2016