I made this recent painting as a studio work based on some sketches that I made one day out on Ellwood. It was a nice way to work. I find it helps to step away from the actual scene for a bit to allow my imagination and memory to enter into the painting and create an impression not only of how the scene looks but also how it feels to be there. I’ve also included a work in process shot from the Studio.
I’m going to have a staggered Covid Friendly mostly-outdoor open studio art sale on November 14 and 15… stay tuned for more info and let me know if you’d like to save a time slot.
I love the variety of driftwood shelters you stumble upon while walking along the coast. This one that I painted at Ellwood had cords of kelp hanging like strings of lights, party streamers or Tibetan prayer flags blowing in the wind.
The say you can’t cross the same river twice and I think it would also be true to say you can’t watch the same sunset twice from this trail on the edge of the Ellwood Bluffs. This particular afternoon, the water was shimmering and I was squinting… letting in just enough of the brilliance to not see spots before my eyes.
It is so healing to be under a big sky in an expansive place. I’m thinking of people in cities with shelter in place orders and hoping the residents are getting outside for their share of fresh air and sunlight. It’s a big sky and a big planet– there’s plenty of space for all of us to stretch a bit if we’re smart about it. I’m hoping for health, peace and the opportunity to connect with nature for all of you.
Ahhhh…. you are beautiful Ellwood an hour before sundown. You make me use every color in the paintbox– the cadmium yellow mustardseeds, the reds in the ice plant, the golden light in the sky and on the water, the phthalo blue ocean, the deep rich greens of spring, and most important– the lovely grey in-between colors that support the others and allow them to shine.
I’ve been out painting small studies a couple of times this week. I feel like I see way more people out hiking an walking than usual, which is one of the silver linings of the crazy situation we find ourselves in. People are home from work and doing things they haven’t had time for in a while. It’s easy to practice “social distancing” on a hiking trail or by the beach, so if you haven’t yet, get out there and see the creeks flowing, the wildflowers blooming and listen for bird songs you haven’t heard since last spring.
When Lauren and I were first married we used to spend most of a day walking from the distant eucalyptus groves, out over the bluffs, around the slough, through IV and UCSB, down the bike trail, out on More Mesa, through the horse trails in Hope Ranch, through westside and finally downtown. There we’d sit our tired legs down at a cafe, eat a big meal and take the bus all the way back home. It was our favorite date… so simple but so full of interesting people watching, nature exploration and places to appreciate the many sides of our town.
15×30″ oil on linen– I hiked my easel out to the cliffs for a particularly beautiful afternoon last weekend… The backlit mustard glowed an electric yellow and the softest marine layer was rolling in from offshore playing lovely tricks with the light. Come out to the Bacara this Friday from 2-8pm for and Saturday 10-5pm for SCAPE’s “Visions of the Gaviota Coast” show which benefits the Gaviota Coastal Conservancy! Opening Receptions is Friday from 5-8 pm.
30×42″ oil on canvas– This was a commission for a friendly, adventurous family who wanted to take home a piece of Goleta. I was excited when they chose this spot– it is really special to our family as well. I wanted to capture the magic hour, that short sweet time of shifting colors that happens in the few moments before the sun drops over the horizon. This was a big studio painting that I made from a small plein air painting that you can see below. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I’m grateful to all of you for sharing my art adventures with me.
14×18″ oil on canvas– Every day of the year is a sunny day… if you can only get above the clouds. I love days like this when just a few luminous spotlights find their way through the overcast… little patches of brilliant sunlight on an otherwise grey landscape. Just like with moods, you can appreciate the sunny even more when you also know the melancholy.