The Hawaiian Chieftan

The Chieftain comes into our port in Garibaldi every year. She is a fun vessel with a great purpose. You can read more about her here. She is involved in "educational cruises and ambassadorial visits along the west coast." I haven't been aboard her yet, but every time I see her I want to join the crew and live the life of a pirate for a while. I want to climb the rigging and sit in the crow's nest keeping a lookout for other ships and hopefully whales and dolphins. I would gladly swab the deck in trade for a bunk, and even more gladly cook in the galley. Of course, I also think I'm 18 when I have my little fantasies. Nevertheless, she does set me dreaming. Perhaps I've seen Peter Pan or Pirates of the Caribbean too many times. Or maybe I need to watch them again tonight.

Balusters by the Dozen

I was able to do a little woodworking today. It wasn't too many years ago that my dad got a lathe. We made plans for me to go help him and together we'd make balusters for the banister in my house. We never quite found the time to do it, and now the house has been sold, I've moved, and my dad's health doesn't allow for those kinds of activities anymore. I wish I could have made that memory with him. I am grateful, however, for the memories I do have. Without him I definitely wouldn't be who or where I am today. 

Ropin' and Ridin'

I grew up on a farm in the dry arid desert of west central Utah. Ropin' and ridin' is what we did every spring when we moved the cattle from the winter feed lots to the summer grazing range. I never tired of being in the saddle with all the ups and downs and swaying to and fro. It occurred to me the other day that sailors are ocean cowboys. The have to know how to tie a good not, throw it clean, and catch it solid. The swaying to and fro may be from a boat instead of the back of a horse, but keeping one's footing is still the key. One rides a range of endless grass while the other rides the watery range. But grit, courage, hard work and strong ethics still make the man.

The Channel

Living on the coast has introduced me to so many new adventures and ways of life. The ocean has always called to me, but I finally have the opportunity to learn more about the lives that thrive in this environment. Part of that has been learning about boats, ships, fishing, crabbing, sailing, rowing, all things ocean craft. So here we have a channel - a shelf that will hold the deadeye, deadeye strop, and chain plate. How fun is it just to say all that? 

Blocking In

Sometimes when I approach a painting I work one area at a time, finishing some details before moving on to the next area. While I did do some detail work in the background trees, I am mostly blocking in all of the basic shapes before I move forward on this piece. There will be a lot of detail work and getting the background correct is paramount. I don't want to put hours into detail work to find that I messed up a major shape. So for this piece, I'm working large to small, fine tuning as I go. 

Where the Mountain Meets the Sea

One of the reasons I so love living on the Oregon coast is because it is where the mountains meet the sea. The first time I visited here I was shocked to see a tsunami warning sign on one side of the road and an elk warning sign on the other. Elk at the beach? How could that be? But it be. Within five minutes of my home I can hike in uncharted woods, and a simple 5 minutes in the other direction I can be barefoot on the sand. This truly is a remarkable part of the earth.

Nehalem Bay Sunset

I was driving home from Nehalem, Oregon at sunset. After the rainy winter we had enjoyed a fabulously beautiful sunny day. It was the first sunset I had seen in months. I missed pulling over when I first caught a glimpse of it. I didn't make that mistake again. I pulled over at every turnout the rest of the way home at took pictures as it slowly sunk beneath the horizon. Oh, the glory and the beauty of this earth.

Beach Boy

Well, here he is... my little beach boy. He makes my toes curl with excitement. I want to get down to the beach and help him collect rocks and stomp in puddles with him. Capturing him on film was such a joy. He ran from puddle to puddle to puddle. I was afraid that by the time I got to him, asked his dad for permission to take his picture, and got settled in, he would have run out of energy or interest. I was so wrong. His dad said he'd been running across the puddles for over half and hour and I was there with him for nearly as long. It was a rare moment, such as this one, when he would stop and find a treasure, and then be off running again. 

I often wonder why all of that energy is allowed in those tiny bodies when my body can't seem to get enough energy to keep up with my own schedule. Watching the carefree child always stirs something deep inside that causes me to yearn for that same freedom to run and laugh and explore at will. Some days I let myself be that child. We should all do that a little more often... 

The Moving of the Water

My little guy is picking a stone up out of the water. Painting water is very interesting. We tend to think of water as always being blue. Water, however, is colorless. It simply reflects whatever is above it. Because most of the time that is blue sky, we tend to think of water as always being blue. There is almost no blue in this puddle, however. So finding the colors that really are there is a fun challenge.

Tide Puddles

When I think of tide pools I think of the ponds left by the ebbing tide that are filled with star fish and sea anemones. When they're only filled with plankton, are they still tide pools? Or just tide tide puddles?

Trying to paint the texture of the wind-blown sand was an interesting process. On a larger canvas I might have become obsessive. On these 8x10 canvases, however, I am forced to keep things loose and keep moving. It is a good exercise for me.

It was also fun to note how the water rippled in some places and was completely calm in others, even though it was the same tide puddle. The earth is such an amazing thing.

Beach Cherub

Well, here she is at last... my hot babe on the beach... my bathing beauty... my cute little beach cherub. I do love children. To me they represent innocence, hope, potential, purity, meekness, and joy. I love to hold a child's hand, play with a child's feet, and answer every single "why" they can come up with. Painting them, apparently, is no different. I have thoroughly enjoyed every child I've painted. I may have to stick to this genre...