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…
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
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
07/25/2015
Odometer: 389.1 miles
The fog bank stuck around all day, threatening to shut down my art operations at any moment. When I rounded a point that marks a significant change in the angle the coast faces, from northwest to southwest, I figured the little micro climate created in the lee of the point would be my best bet for some stable sunshine. This place wasn’t on my list to paint, but I was concerned about heading any further and back into the fog. Just like a surf trip, the main rule is to never pass up a decent setup, enjoy what is there in the moment. Epic days happen when they happen, but you can drive around all day looking for them and not find them at all.
The beauty affects you
Right away
The oak, however
Can take a week or two
07/24/2015
Odometer: 346.4 miles
The rough and calloused
Fingers of land
Join hands
With the soft and nimble
Fingers of fog
In a
Display of
Quiet unity
07/24/2015
Odometer: 533.1 miles
The fog was relentless here. Spent a lot of time noodling around with the foreground waiting for the whiteout to lift from this epic hilltop vantage point.
07/23/2015
Odometer: 213.5 miles
Sometimes we all need
a soft shoulder to cry on
But other times all we need is
A wide shoulder to park on
07/22/2015
Odometer: 179.8 mi
Last one from my home territory. Hitting the road tomorrow a.m. Huge thanks to everyone that has made suggestions, requests, and commitments for the pieces I’ll be painting each day of this trip. You have all helped make this trip possible and you have my gratitude. I’ll try not to blow it.
07/21/2015
Odometer 149.6 miles
Got a little sidetracked already. Trying to get just the right angle to paint from the van for the previous painting, my front bumper just grazed the railing on the roadside… and promptly broke, bent, and dislodged itself halfway off. Not wanting to spend this whole drive wondering if it would fall off completely, I figured I should take care of it sooner than later. Fortunately this all happened very close to home, making things simple. But in the rush of taking care of business to begin the real road trip down the state, this little funky one is, all I could muster up. Looking forward to points south soon, hopefully tomorrow.
07/20/2015
Odometer: 75.4 miles
I often paint right out the back or side of my van, literally standing up inside the thing, enjoying the shade and windblock it provides. The added elevation gain is a nice bonus as well, and sometimes it’s the only reason I paint from in there. On this day it was all three. Bright and windy, and if I stood on the ground outside I just couldn’t see over the bushes in the foreground. I know it only adds about two feet or so, but that can make all the difference.
Sometimes I get a bit picky and want to position the van just so, getting the perfect view out the door. This one was just past a large parking area as it narrowed back on to the road. It took a bit of positioning to get the view without blocking the road at all. Due to the tight squeeze, I was parked right up against the roadside guard rail.
It all worked out great until it was time to go. Somehow an edge of my bumper got caught on a spot where two railings overlapped. As I pulled away it just about ripped the front of the van off. That might be an exaggeration, but still, it was beyond me to fix it. Had to take it to a body shop later to sort that one out.
07/19/2015
Odometer: 0.00 miles
Kicking off the tour of California’s coast with some river time near the Oregon Border. Mornings have a bit of a chill that make swimming sound a little better… later. Like after this quick painting. Took a four hour swim with the family up the river right after this one.
07/14/2015
Plein air, but with a twist.
Traditional plein air work involves working fast to give an impression of the place at a particular time of day. The changing nature of light throughout a day limits the working time for a single session so larger pieces usually involve multiple sessions returning to the same location at the same time on different days.
This Timezone series is a slow cooking experiment in painting larger works in single sessions over a longer period, all day even, while still remaining true to the traditional plein air ethos. Each vertical band represents a different “timezone” painted quickly to reflect the light conditions of that fleeting moment.
07/10/2015
Painted live for a friend’s going away party gift. These passing through series pieces represent something very simple for me: the movement of energy through any medium. I painted the first one live at a music festival in southern Humboldt while on my home from San Francisco. Just passing through. Something resonated with that one and I’ve done several more since then. In this case the vertical bands in the piece seem to me like periods of a person’s life, where significant life-changing events happen, new chapters are begun but the same vitality of life keeps flowing through from one to the next. Ok. That is all. Robin from HumBrews, I wish you the best in your next chapter.
07/09/2015
Painted live on the radio?
Yep, live radio.
KHUM with Mike Dronkers in the KHUM studio in Ferndale, CA. Huge thanks to @mikedronkers and @khumradio for letting this happen. If you squint your eyes and stand on your head and sip an IPA while viewing this one you’ll clearly see Mike spinning tunes from the control booth at KHUM on his 7th to last radio show here. We’re gonna miss this guy.
07/06/2015
Plein air, but with a twist.
Traditional plein air work involves working fast to give an impression of the place at a particular time of day. The changing nature of light throughout a day limits the working time for a single session so larger pieces usually involve multiple sessions returning to the same location at the same time on different days.
This Timezone series is a slow cooking experiment in painting larger works in single sessions over a longer period, all day even, while still remaining true to the traditional plein air ethos. Each vertical band represents a different “timezone” painted quickly to reflect the light conditions of that fleeting moment.
07/04/2015
“Freedom doesn’t exist out there, real freedom is within…” that was a passing thought while painting this one in full art hobo mode operating in a small shady alley in the beautiful town of Ferndale, CA on the fourth of July this year. Pretty random. I think I was trying to paint the American flag, but something went a bit sideways… I can only guess what the townsfolk thought of the hairy hobo arting out water rainbows in their alley during their patriotic street party. Nobody told me to leave so I’m calling it a win.
06/01/2015
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hide from a helicopter and duck for cover in the bushes by the train tracks twice on my way to get this view. Graffiti guys deal with this sort of thing all the time, plein air guys not so much. That was fun.
Sounds like its been an intense week for folks that live here and love and care for this coast. Another oil spill is just another example of how the cost of living our lives plays out in many ways.
Big thanks to my friends Guner, John, Mike, and Chris for all the Intel and access logistics.
06/01/2015
Always dug the graphic road vibes on this one. There may or may not have been boats anchored just to the left of the frame cleaning up* an oil spill from a busted pipe on the side of the highway. Either way, the color if the water in this little cove was incredible.
*or just dumping poisonous dispersant in the water to break up the oil and put it out of sight, out of mind. I hope I heard that wrong.
05/30/2015
Who wrote this book of etiquette?
All of the pages are blank
As though the ink has spilled right off the paper
Leaving us to write our own rules with pencils
And skin
And burning eyes
After reading from cover to cover we are left
Just as we were before
Somewhat crude
And still rather unrefined
05/19/2015
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
