Writing

A different way to enjoy my work, through the written words, notes, and poems that pour out alongside the artwork, and sometimes all on their own…


Fleeting Glimpse

10/10/2015

Painted live at Redwood Curtain brewery during a live music set from Likwefi. No plan, just paint and let the music guide the pace. Twice during the show I thought I saw a bird and tried to define it, but the more I developed it, the worse it looked as it wasn’t a planned drawing of a bird, just some random forms that hinted at a bird, like seeing shapes in clouds. Ended up resolving the piece by bringing it back to pure abstraction during the closing songs. Cracks me up thinking of folks watching me paint at these things and thinking that I know what I’m doing. If they could only step inside my head for a moment or two they’d wonder how I even left my house and made it to the show. Pure scatterwonky. And yet for all that, I still somehow end up with a painting I kinda dig. Not a bad deal.


Up the Coast

09/22/2015

They took one last look at the river
And longed for another time
Saddened by the parade of motorhomes and meth
Stretching from the ends of the earth to right here and right now
They refused to join the neon funeral procession
They took their stand
And to this day they remain
Still
And beautiful
And made of solid gold


Passing Through VI

09/18/2015

Painted Live at Oysters and Ale benefit for Humboldt Made a few weeks ago. These live pieces are a fun outlet for me, a welcome change of pace from drawn out studio work or weather/light/location dependent plein air work. I never really know where a piece is going to go and that’s at least half the fun.


Free Range #33: Last Rites

08/14/2015

Technically, this would be the 33rd piece in the Free Range series. Odometer maybe at 1525 miles or so. Painted it on location in La Jolla at the VIP party for UCSD’s Legends of Surfing Invitational that benefits Moores Cancer Center. This little one raised $1200 to fight cancer that night. Shortly after that I was keeled over in pain and ended up in the ER at Scripps hospital. They couldn’t figure it out and sent me on my way where the stabbing pain came and went for the next 2 weeks. Tests, appointments, all that. Still no answers but feeling better. Reckon 3 weeks of van life and brutal work pace had me neglecting proper nutrition and hydration and I paid the price this time. Anyway, all that is to say I’m not dead yet, and even though this is the last painting I’ve done as of this moment, there will be more. Just a reminder we never know what tomorrow brings. Life is short. Love people. Now.
I’m beyond stoked to have been part of such an amazing event and grateful to all that work so hard to make it happen each year. I hope to be back, and in better condition to howl at the moon and fight cancer like a pirate with you all next year. Heroes.


Free Range #32: End of the Line

08/10/2015

Odometer: 1499.6 miles

A common theme when exploring an unfamiliar area is to drive to the end of the road, then get out and walk to the end of the trail until you can’t pass any further. Doesn’t matter if it’s a remote location or just a curious corner of your own local neighborhood, it happens time and time again. This was a familiar stretch, but I hadn’t gone this far before on these bluffs. In hindsight it’s fitting that this was the end of the trail, as my plein air tour would be cut short in the following days due to illness, the hard toll of road life perhaps catching up at last. I reckon I’ll be fine and the rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated but huge thanks to everyone that stepped up and helped me out when I was feeling pretty awful. Apologies to those who asked for paintings further south, they won’t be coming on this trip. As it turned out this was much closer to the end of the line than I thought it would be at the time.


Free Range #31: Summer Cooker

08/09/2015

Odometer: 1491.6 miles

Not much to say here. It was really hot this day, not like Texas-in-Summer heat or anything near it, but still much hotter than usual for these parts.

I’m not used to sweating so much near the beach. It’s all well and good if you’ve got your feet in the water, it’s another story when perched tantalizingly close on the bluff for 2 hours in the midday heat.

A beautiful big rainbow beetle kept landing on my easel telling me I should wrap it up and get in the ocean. I replied in beads of saltwater dripping out from under the brim of my hat. He seemed to appreciate this biological pun, buzzing out a little laugh of his wings, but he and I both knew I didn’t belong up there.

-Entry on August 9, 2015

I was hospitalized last night. Possibly dehydration.

-Entry on August 10, 2015


Free Range #29: This Too Shall Pass

08/07/2015

Odometer: 1361.2 miles

Painted this after driving through the largest freeways of this trip on a hot humid day, suffering a random nosebleed in the fast lane, and arriving to this spot covered in a sweaty layer of cloudfunk. Figured I’d make the most of it as since I was here. This place has history with me. When I really got into landscapes and plein air art around 15 years ago, I was briefly living in long beach and this was the closest place to come and hike and submerse one’s self in nature and atmosphere and not see cars, roads, or houses for miles. And its also very close to the beach where I proposed to my wife a little over 15 years ago as well. We celebrated our 15th anniversary together up the coast a few days ago, so was really wanting to paint one around here even though I wasn’t too inspired when setting up. Laid out a few lines and was greeted by the heaviest rain I’ve seen on this trip. Just about called it quits, but figured this too would pass, and sure enough it did. Glad I didn’t give up earlier.


Free Range #28: For Those Who Have Gone Before Us

08/06/2015

Odometer: 1296.1 miles

There’s a lot of history here. Native history, Spanish colonial history, surfing history, and countless other threads entwine around this focal point of the coast. As I painted this one I chatted with a local who a long time friend of a fellow coastal artist who passed away not too long ago. Hearing his stories and backstories to those stories really brought home the reality to me that this life is too short not to live fully. He lived a much different life than I, but born to another time and place it could have been me that was gone and him just now hearing tales of my days here. Hug the ones you love.


Free Range #27: Jeepers Creepers

08/05/2015

Odometer: 1274.8 miles

Ok. I know I can seem a little creepy to some folks all hovelled up in my van dwelling, but sometimes even I get creeped out by the local humans. This was an empty stretch of road but it produced some odd characters in fairly rapid succession. I’m glad I wasn’t abducted. I like my van just fine, thanks, no need to see the inside of yours…


Free Range #26: Morning Funk

08/05/2015

Odometer: 1209.7 miles

In order to make the most of the daylight hours and paint as much as time and geography allow, I’ve been flying under the radar and sleeping in the van in random offbeat commercial locations. Wake up early and move on daily. Some mornings are rougher than others and our good old coastal marine layer has fairly well mimicked the physical feelings of general funk arising from car sleeping and a questionable road diet that are most prominent in the morning hours. By the time the clouds burn off I’m usually feeling a lot better. This one is about working through the funk and pressing on even when nothing in me felt like doing so at the moment. In the morning mental haze I even forgot a critical piece of my outdoor easel, the bottom ledge for clamping the canvas on. Didn’t realize it till I’d already walked the 20 minute hike from the parking lot and around the point. Improvise, adapt, and move on, it’s all good. I’m just stoked to be here.


Free Range #25: Don’t Need a Weatherman to Know Which Way the Wind Blows

08/04/2015

Odometer: 1,151.9 miles

Tonight was a victory for the mobile studio van. I often paint from the back of the van for protection from sun/ wind/rain, etc… But this particular evening the wind was howling so strong down these coastal canyons that it was hard to paint in the van even with all windows up and only one back door open for the view.

I do believe it would have been impossible without the shelter the van provided. But even so, the van was shaking so much the brush never seemed to land where I thought it would so this one is a little loose around the edges.

But without the van this one could not have happened at all. It is by far the best studio I’ve ever had. Compared to my home studio it gets much better fuel mileage, and the view can’t be beat either. Stoked to have been able to paint this late afternoon/evening light on such a beautiful piece of California’s coast.

-Entry on August 4, 2015

Post-Edit: In hindsight it was very much like painting from a small boat while two buddies sit fishing and climbing around to reach the beers. Non-stop movement rocking the boat. Like being drunk enough to fail a sobriety test asking you to touch your nose, but without the buzz. Don’t ask how I know this, but I do.

-Entry on January 12, 2018


Free Range #24: The Spirit Not the Letter

08/04/2015

Odometer: 1,120.9 miles

Driving out to check this place, I could tell the wind was coming up fast and early, so I figured I’d skip the surf and just get right into painting. I had the easy spots in mind, simple views right off the shoulder of the road as it wound over the bluffs above the beach. It had been awhile since I’d passed this, way so I didn’t recall all the no parking signs lining the entire length of road. Large, wide, safe shoulders everywhere with amazing views up the coast and someone got a wild hair to keep anyone from stopping there. With the wind blowing as it was, I knew my only chance to paint this view would be from the windblock afforded by my rolling studio van. I figured I’d go down to the county park at the end of the road and see what the park ranger had to say. I paid for my day use and he said go for it. There was one old retired guard around that made a point of enforcing the no parking rule and that the main point of the signs was to keep folks from parking up there and poaching on the use of the park without paying. Fair enough. Figured I was good to go then so I painted, had my burger and left for points south.


Free Range #23: Location, Location, Location

08/03/2015

Odometer: unknown, the numbers kept spinning, I’ll have to get it checked out, must be busted or something…
Plein air
12 x 12

One of the most enjoyable parts of this trip has been having the time to explore some dog legs off the main roads that I’ve wondered about for years and peer around a few corners on nothing but a whim and a bleeping internal surf radar. On one remote stretch of coast where I stood looking out at the glassy lines I was surprised by the sound of the crunching dirt road gravel very close by. Looking around for who or what was nearby, I realized it was just my jaw that had dropped to the ground on realization that I was staring out at just the oceanfront spread I’d been looking for for so long. Nothing too fancy, just a place to raise some cattle, skate my private bowl, and surf a left or right point on any given day, you know, just the basics… holy moly. Let’s not worry about where this is, let’s just be content to know that this is. California, I love you.

Barely room
To park a single van
You wouldn’t know
It was down there
If you didn’t have an odd
Compulsion
To pull over
At every opportunity



Free Range #22: Third Try

08/02/2015

Odometer: 1038.8 miles

Sometimes it takes a lot of driving around spot-checking before settling on a spot to paint. The morning light was fading quickly to noon day brightness, so I jumped on this one after scouting two other locations. Any one if them would have worked, not sure why I was so hesitant, but at least I didn’t go back to the first one and then second guess that before heading to a fourth spot. That happens too. I’ll call this a win.


Free Range #21: The Beginning of the End

08/01/2015

Odometer: 1030.2 miles

Every trip comes to an end sometime, and this one ends in southern California. Although I still have many miles to travel in the next few days, with the live music and party vibe emanating from the pier while I painted, this was my first tastes of the end of the line. Tastes kinda like country music.


Free Range #20: Overwhelmed

07/31/2015

Odometer: 935.8 miles

The coast of California is not fair. For every spot surfed or vista painted there’s a multitude of others that will have to wait for another day. Been enjoying this paint tour, but my heart breaks for all that I’ve seen and haven’t had time to stop for. It doesn’t matter how many times one makes this trip, many a stone will always be left unturned. So do not weep for me, not that you would, but weep for us all and all of the hidden beauty around each bend that this fleeting life is too short to take in. Yes, weep, but not in sorrow, weep for joy! For there is always more out there and none of us will ever be able to say sadly say that we’ve seen it all. We haven’t come close.

Silver and gold
I do not have
Wait… gold
I have that
And you’re welcome to it
You only have to look
Around.


Free Range #19: Like a Bridge Over Troubled Womp

07/31/2015

Odometer: 887.8 miles

Well, not really. I’m sure the womp down there is perfectly content to be left alone and only viewed from above. The only troubled ones would be the prospective wompees passing by hankering for some all-time scenic & historical womp. Access down there isn’t easy. This one is for all my boardless wave sliding friends. May your goat trails always be passable.

Separated at birth
An island
Adrift
From the motherland
She always dreamed of the day
The cartographers
Would come
And make things right
The Alta
And the Baja
So close
But a world away
Until the bridge
Spanned the final distance
At last
Reunited
The map has been redrawn


Free Range #18: Punk Rocks

07/30/2015

Odometer: 862.3 miles

Beautiful coast here. Almost too beautiful for painting as it draws throngs of visitors from all over the world in a constant stream of selfie sticks, bored kids on family vacation that will not be impressed by anything analog, and well, bearded painters too I suppose (though I was the only one out there on this day). The trouble with all this activity is the constant stream of nice folks who want to know if I’m making a living from art. I’m not sure why that is the question most often asked these days, but it is. In a crazy busy place like this one I get tired of fielding that inquiry and quickly run out of new ways to answer it on the spot so I prefer to wear headphones and enjoy some blindingly loud music so I don’t hear anything anyone has to say. I even sing along loudly from time to time in case they don’t see the headphones. This piece was painted with some enjoyable punk rock that brought me back to my teenage years. The fast pace forced a bit of a different vibe and kept it rough around the edges. Funny how that works. When you first saw this painting scrolling through your feed, you didn’t think to yourself, “oooo, looks like 80’s punk rock”, did you? No, you did not. But look again, and now you do. Neat huh?


Free Range #17: Oh the Humanity

07/30/2015

Odometer: 800.1 miles

This town is nuts. Lineups crawling with surfers of all skill levels. Surfed one wave about 3 feet from the cliff with 2 other surfers in front of me on a soft top and a stand up paddle board. I don’t think they even knew I was there. Watched soft top’s board get washed into a hole in the cliff and disappear a few waves later. Never saw if he was able to retrieve it or not. Hopefully it want a rental. And possibly on the best wave of my trip so far, took a high line to gain speed to drop around a long section, getting excited for the wall stretching out ahead and BAM! Hit by a board out of nowhere, never saw it coming. Fortunately it was just a good crack to the thigh, not the head. I held on and made it around the section, but then I realized what had happened and wondering if I was hurt or not and dug a rail cause I wasn’t in the moment anymore. Came up grumbling, mostly mad that I blew it for no good reason after holding on through the worst of it. The guy who bailed his board asked if I got that wave when I paddled back out. I wasn’t super happy and did kinda let him know. Mostly just to hang on to his board better, but I wasn’t so mad at him as myself for blowing it. Any apparent disgruntlement was likely just leftovers from yesterday’s run in with the cherry slinger. Anyway, I figured it was appropriate to share all that as this is the first piece of this art tour to include people in it. They could not be avoided. Literally.


Free Range #15: Morning Drive

07/29/2015

Odometer: 755.7 miles

Our father
Kept us moving
Even though
We stopped a bit too often
To read the signs
And ponder
Their meanings

When it was time to move on
We would often
Have to push with all of our might

Barefoot
On the rough pavement

Our father
Drove a Volkswagon


Free Range #16: Sweet Cherries for Sale

07/29/2015

Odometer: 766.8 miles

I was digging this roadside view on the coast beside a nearby produce stand’s sign announcing “Sweet Cherries for Sale” and had just gotten set up
when the cherry slinger walked up and told me I’d have to move.

He said I was blocking his Sweet Cherries sign. I wasn’t, but I could see how from over at his stand it might look that way. I began to tell him about my road trip and how far I’d traveled to paint this spot, which he seemed to immediately take as a challenge and
interrupted to inform me bluntly that he’d driven all the way from Modesto… Ouch, he got me there.

And furthermore, he informed me that he had a permit to set up there, and even furthermore that since he was there first there was no point finding a mutually beneficial solution.

He was real good at cussing too. His parting shot was that I had to move or he would call the sheriff and have me forced to relocate.

A few minutes after he left I was still standing in the back of the van, wondering if this view was really worth the hassle when I look down out of my side window and see the feet of a uniformed official step out of his truck and approaching on foot. I was shocked that Sweet Cherry Man had the pull to get an officer out that quickly. I resigned to pack it up as I hadn’t started painting yet anyway.

The official comes around to the back of the van and starts right off telling me I wouldn’t be able to park there… then his face came into focus… and it was none other than a long-time friend and college housemate of mine who had been working with the State Parks doing trail construction in this area for years.

Apparently he’d driven by, saw me setting up in the van and talking to Sweet Cherry Man, and was just stopping to say hi and figured he’d joke around with me about moving the van as he walked up. He had no idea about Sweet Cherry Man’s problems with me being here.

So we talked for a bit in full view of Sweet Cherry Man and after we were done catching up and arranging to connect later that evening for a meal and some beers, we decided to make a real show of him pointing at the van and at the Sweet Cherry sign and back at the van. Then I’d simply move the van forward and back a few feet and carry on as I’d now be safely parked and positioned by an Authority of the California State Parks. We even staged a very intentional handshake for added emphasis.

I was never blocking the sign, and permit or not (we were pretty sure he made that part up), he didn’t own the side of the highway anyhow.

Pretty funny to think of Sweet Cherry Man down there, after giving me that earful then seeing me talking it over with a very official-looking park ranger (who drove up in a state park truck with a siren and everything) and then staying put.

I wasn’t finished painting when Sweet Cherry Man closed down for the day. When he came over to get his sign, he backed up as close as he could to the back of my van and made a solid effort to spray my van with gravel as he put all the horsepower his Chevy Astro could muster on the line. It was a rather unfruitful display of vehicular disgust.

But the biggest disappointment was that I had forever missed my chance to walk down there and purchase some of them Sweet Cherries from Modesto.

-Entry on July 29, 2015