Maybe this seems a little dark, but morning on the ocean is hazy and peaceful. The tide came in, swirled around my ankles sinking the easel supports just as I finished.
Beat flat by Hurricane Sandi in September 2012, the sand dunes along the beach were plowed back and planted with hardy beach grasses. The light on the dge of the dune stopped me right on the street. It will be interesting to see how much more has grown by next summer.
Love these rocks! As the tide and sunlight changes, the green starts to glow on these boulders, nearly underwater during high tide, but full of swirling water, shells and bubbles the rest of the time.
I painted this jetty angle twice, the more abstract of the two remains in Long Beach, collection of Francis Marion.
Perhaps my favorite of the week, this is the same composition I painted with pastels last year. No matter how devastating the storm was to homes and the city of Long Beach, these boulders were impervious, stalwart in their assigned locations. The title comes from slack tide, when the incoming and outgoing forces of tide water is fairly even.
This panorama is emotionally charged, a Labor Day painting symbolizing the end of summer lifeguards and lazy days as well as beach and salt water time I gave up by moving off Long Island and across the state. I miss the ocean, but not much else.
After completing one of my 'stand up at the easel' oils, I sat on the blanket as the waves came in right at my eye level. I took a few photos, but realized that I wanted to paint this power, and I had a spare little board with me. Trying to catch this enormous power right in front of me, I poured on the paint, frequently using a painting knife to sculpt the color.
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