Three Paintings

Past, present and future artwork coexist briefly in my studio.

Kelp Mandala happening.

Mounds of kelp. Sometimes found on Ocean Beach, they are the inspiration behind this artwork in progress. As I paint this third variation I get lost in the labyrinth which, of course, is where I want to be.

Tangled Kelp in a Box

Kelp entered my artwork years ago. I usually see mounds of it washed up on the shore, bunched upon Ocean Beach. Like the mazes I enjoyed drawing as a child the kelp is a naturally convoluted entanglement. It's a knot that can't be untied. In the sea it's a bustling ecosystem of abstract, twisted, labyrinthian cords of green and amber. If you scuba-dive you'll see that kelp exists as a marketplace for countless underwater creatures and fish. I draw it because of its perplexity. I paint it because of my life-long connection to the ocean.

Labyrinth of Amber and Green

Back in my twenties before I became a painter I spent a bunch of time exploring LA's galleries and museums. I don't recall where I found the photography of Aaron Siskind but I found it truly striking. His work unveiled a world of abstract compositions in the most unlikely yet obvious places. Elegantly cropped images of neglected walls covered with peeling paint and boulder mounds are what stick in my mind the most. He set the bar high when it comes to learning to look and I'm still learning. My front yard is a great place for channeling Aaron. I often find my inspiration in nature's debris. A pile of kelp that washes up on the beach after a storm will always fascinate me. It's a labyrinth of amber and green waiting to be entered.   

Box of Kelp

Mounds of knotted seaweed and kelp appear on Ocean Beach and have always caused me to stop and stare and wonder and muse at the complex entanglements of amber-green cord. A Gordian knot from the Pacific sits at my feet and I'm hypnotized by the possibility of unraveling its mystery.

Box of Cloth

When I was a kid I would draw mazes and labyrinths. I would get lost in it. Now I see it as a form of meditation. My childhood fascination has evolved somewhat and taken shape in the form of cloth and kelp. The process of drawing and painting these is so satisfying that I imagine if I did nothing else I'd be truly content. Apparently I won't allow myself that yet, but this week I'm excited to be painting two boxes of cloth. At the Legion of Honor there are several paintings that I study just for the drapery.  I imagine the artist having the same fascination as I do. A timeless connection perhaps.