25 New Paintings! Part I
-Paintings 1-10: Mendocino. Humboldt. Del Norte. Undisclosed.
It’s been awhile since I dropped a bunch of new art here and I’m stoked to finally share these with you all.
Part I : Mendocino. Humboldt. Del Norte. Undisclosed.
Some of these paintings go way back, like the Big Sur batch you’ll see in Part III that were started before the pandemic. Holy moly. That took too long. I’ll start with the most recent first and work my way back in time over the next two installments. Ok, let’s art.
… but first, thanks for opening my first Substack email. Glad it found you! I’ve switched to this platform going forward and I hope it works for everyone out there.
And as always, if any of these paintings are calling your name, shoot me an email quick for first dibs and early-bird deals. Sizes, prices and availability are listed beneath each image. We’ll sort the details out from there.
And you can always check this page for current available originals as well. I try to keep it up to date as much as possible.
Ok, now let’s art.
Mendocino, CA
March,2021
4 paintings. 2 days. 7.2 miles walked. 37 whale spouts spotted. One tick found on a child in line at the market who got so scared to see it that she nearly passed out right there in the store.
A quick escape from Humboldt with my family. Not exactly a painting trip, but not exactly not a painting trip either.
Prime Pelican Real Estate
It had been awhile. We needed to getaway and we found what we were looking for on the Mendocino coast. A small house. Just our family and the wind and more beauty than one should rightfully be entitled to, unless it were by grace. Speaking of a different form of grace, pelicans are the masters, and it was a joy to paint this stretch of coast in their presence. What is going on with earth here though? Dizzying displays of plate tectonics. I set up a few feet from the edge, tying my easel to a small fence, partly to keep it from blowing away in the howling wind, and partly so I’d have something secure to grab on to should the heights send me spinning asunder.
End of Trail
After finishing the previous painting, I ventured further on to explore this coast trail to its logical end. I found it here. The sign told me so. The ribbons and trinkets tied to the barbed wire fence spoke of the prayers of others who’ve walked this lonely path. And I thought to myself, “that makes sense… that’s what people do at The End.” The next day I returned with my family to share this beauty with them. It wasn’t so lonely when they were there with me. I didn’t think so much about Prayers or The End, instead we just sat and watched the whale spouts dancing like ghosts on the horizon.
Irish Coffee
A quick family getaway. An early morning stumble across a cow pasture. A desperate and failed effort not to spill my coffee while being distracted by this beauty. A fleeting glimpse of my wife jogging on the beach beneath the first light of day. How does she do that at this hour? I can barely walk.
Box of Rain
And then there was this. I’d looked all my life for a wave like this peeling across an empty sandbar on a lonely coast in California. I could hardly believe my eyes. But even if they had betrayed me, there was also that feeling in the gut, the butterfly that gnaws and never lies about the presence of greatness, holy ground, and all that. Today was not the day to venture any further, but I’ll be back.
Del Norte, CA
February, 2021
2 days. 1 painting. 1 landslide that turned the 2 hour drive home on a quick local getaway into an 8 hour drive through the mountains and snow and ice.
That was a rough one. But without boring you with un-needed details, this inconvenient landslide literally was the cause for the Mendocino trip you just read about. No slide, no Mendo. Slide, Mendo! It worked out. I know that makes little sense, but it’s true. Holler if you want the full story.
The End of California
I’ve painted the border fence at the Mexico border before, but this is the first painting I’ve done of California’s northern border. There’s really not much of a border there. Just a beach stretching into the distance. Oregon hasn’t yet built their wall to keep us out, but I won’t be surprised if they have plans in the works. On this day though, there was no need for a dramatic fence or wall, the weather provided the perfect border drama illuminating Oregon while leaving California in the dark.
Humboldt, CA
February, 2021
The Entry Way
A fine late-winter day on our local coast. It doesn’t get better than this around here. I saw other painters perched at nearly every lookout on this short stretch of scenic road, but somehow I managed to paint this one without getting tangled up in any arguments about ultramarine blue.
Undisclosed, CA
(Let’s just leave it at that, ok?)
August, 2020
2 days. 4 paintings. 20 years of marriage (to my wife).
A late summer escape to celebrate 20 years with my beautiful lady. We had hiked here on our honeymoon one August back in 2000. How times have changed. Even here. But still as beautiful as ever.
Right Before Dinner
Just after arrival, I snuck this one in just before setting up camp. And the voices chimed in as I painted. “I’m just a bump on a log” and “I’m just a bird on a rock”, and “I’m just a blade of grass in the wind”. Yeah, me too, I thought. But “I’m hungry” is all that I said.
Right Before Lunch
A view that never gets old. I actually painted from this exact vantage point 15 years ago. I titled that painting Right after Breakfast and figured that I should revisit that spot and see what happens, so that’s what I did… right before lunch.
Slip and Slide
I don’t know if anyone has ever painted from this vantage point, or ever will again. It’s over 10 miles from the nearest road. The logistics of getting here, along with all of one’s painting gear, are not easily solved. And once here, I imagine most would shy away from painting a barren rockslide, but to me that was the magic of this painting. This fire-swept wilderness is one of the most geologically unstable stretches of coastline in California (hence, no roads). It’s a harsh environment, but therein lies its charm and beauty.
Right Before Breakfast
I’m not a “morning” person, I am however a “whatever-magic-is-in-the-light-in-this-particular-place-right-now” person so it worked itself out. Just the sight of these deer grazing along a beachside meadow beneath a rising sun aroused these dry bones from the body bag and back to life. It was such a moving scene, I was surprised whole whales weren’t emerging from the scattered bones buried in the sand as well. They didn’t though. Whales are heavy sleepers.
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