I was watching two gulls converse recently. Actually it was only one doing all the talking; the other kept trying to get away--trying to escape apparently. I thought, he must have stayed out very late last night. But then I thought, maybe the one talking is apologizing for something. After I worked through my stereotypical anthropomorphic analysis
One of my favorite ways to compose is from a high vantage point, like from a bridge, a third floor balcony, or as in Crescent Path, from atop a dune. In addition to this, and the juxtaposition of the beach houses, what gave this scene life is the strong swooshing shape of a crescent formed by the path. It is this dynamic, the emphasis on motion, that I'm naturally drawn to.
This is a view of East Main Street area next to the original Highway 17 bridge in Washington. Standing at the apex of a bridge gives a good vantage point. It was a cold day and the light was clear and bright. The light was warm too, making the white hulls look very yellow; I think that was my initial objective—to paint those yellow boat hulls, but the architecture too.
I have to sometimes put forth effort to not be overly dark or dramatic because that is my natural tendency it seems. These boats that are part of my ‘Skiff’ series can be seen to represent various aspects of life, some specific to me, others more general. And it’s not difficult for them to appear as metaphors for the more sober journeys we take.
Art is mystery, and so is the sea. That's how I see it, feel it. When I look at the ocean waves there is a fear, an awe inspiring type fear; I know the depths and power of the wave, that it could swallow me up without thought or care and I vanish forever. And there is art. My art specifically. It is a mystery no matter how long I've been doing it.