Circle of Cypress

                                                   Circle of Cypress oil on canvas 40x56


 My stint of art school took place in Mendocino Calif. in the fall of 1972. The small village sits on the south side of a huge sloping headland jutting out into the ocean. A meadow covers the rest with spectacular views of the sea in three directions. It is now a protected state park.
 Near the bathrooms and picnic area was a grove of Monterey Cypress. One group of trees formed a circle with the trunks like pillars framing the scene. I loved to go there and sit at a table and watch the ocean beyond the cliffs. Lots of activity, loud and salty, but the trees made a peaceful sanctuary. Another group of these magnificent trees was planted in a double row as a windbreak for the high school football field. Walking between them was a spiritual experience! At one end I had a favorite to climb and often took a sketchbook up with me. I was like a refugee, I had escaped the horrible heat and pollution of inland south Calif. I was 18 and so ripe for a different life!
 The last time I was there was in 1986 when I drew these cypress for a future painting;

 That painting was a large watercolor I did in the early 90`s;

                                                  Circle of Cypress watermedia on paper 36x56


 Though I liked it well enough, the place never left my imagination which is why I just tried again. Closer! The trees formed a cozy little room and I think it`s the contrast of their serenity with the raging ocean outside it that I found so compelling.


 God love the internet! Because I`m easy to google, I hear from my past quite often. Usually it`s from someone who purchased a painting long ago and they want me to know they still love it. How kind an impulse is that?! A photo of the piece is often included. Usually I cringe to see what my younger self did, but not this time. Here is one from the 70`s, a creek study from the palm canyons of the Coachella Valley;

 My workshop in Coos Bay in July is full, I`m sorry if anyone was left out!

Who knows what this bird is? The photo was the best my I-phone could do. I was in the living room and it was on the fence outside. Tiny thing with a pale peach colored head and longer tail feathers than one would expect. New to my yard! In this warmer climate now, it could be from Mexico!

                                                                    Spring!


work for sale in my studio

Logjam

                                        watermedia on Yupo 26x20"

This was an unusual challenge.
Driving down Mt. Rainier a couple of weeks ago, I could see the road curve over a bridge up ahead. As I crossed it, I glanced upstream to briefly see a massive logjam wedged up into a chasm with a waterfall gushing out the bottom. My view couldn`t have been a whole second, but I knew I had just seen a spectacle, a scene of terrible beauty. The force of that flood dragging all those trees into this impasse must have been truly awesome. This is not the nature I see on my nice walks in the forest. This was brutal and impersonal. Such views are common in Alaska but down here it takes a National Park or somewhere remote to see this kind of evidence of natural violence.
It burned into my memory. Not the facts but the feeling of 'wildness'. That`s what I had to go by, having no recollection of of shapes, colors or scale. In a sense I paint like this all the time. I move paint around until it looks like how the place felt. But I usually have a photo or drawing to help build the scaffold. With this it was just a fleeting glimpse of hundreds of fallen trees straining against the mountain. I began hoping to execute a true watercolor, but quickly saw I would be doing major revisions all along the way so out came the acrylics. It was a battle.


work for sale in my studio

Over the Sea 24

                                                           watercolor on paper 8x8

Tonight, after three earlier attempts I had to throw out,  I went back to basics and made another in this elegiac series. Two of my elders died this week and although my involvement with them was years ago, it`s sad. One was my 90 year old cousin Elizabeth who had the courage to be a free spirit when that wasn`t cool at all. The other was my former landlady, Olus Ramsey in New Mexico who lived to be 95. She gave me a beautiful place to paint at a rent I could afford just as I was starting out as a painter at 23. Joseph Campbell said when you follow your deepest desires, doors will open where there were only walls. She was one of those doors.
So I`ve been painting badly for a couple of weeks now. The well is dry. I don`t know why but it`s like something vital was simply shut off. I`m annoyed but not too concerned as I realize I have a month of total painting immersion coming up on the coast. Still I keep trying, that`s what I do but I`m not getting anywhere. Tonight, those departed ladies are in my thoughts as I`m ripping up wet paintings and I begin yet again. My brother Mike has given me a CD he wants me to hear. He kindly and patiently sees that I have beautiful music to listen to. I don`t even remember the name of the group but I put it on and immediately go to the first track he has noted as the best. That song isn`t half way along and I am standing over this painting, brush in hand, weeping. It doesn`t stop soon.
Music will find the sore places and clean them.