For more than two decades I have attended a weekend association meeting in Southern California. In 2021 I visited Santa Monica pier for the first time since my first trip to California in 1988. I stood on the wide paved pathway within sight of Gold's gym, watching all sorts of people doing all sorts of things and Santa Monica pier as a backdrop to this scene. There was a small patch of grass where men held women over their heads as though training for ice skating competitions or Dirty Dancing acting calls. There was laughter and hawkers of street corn, palm trees and volleyball nets, a ferris wheel and oil tankers in the distance floating on the gray sea waiting to come into port.
This was a pilgrimage to try to connect with some part of me that was as yet out of reach. I stored this painting away for a long time not having any perspection on it. I pulled it out a while back and recently painted on it. It's still in progress. Check back for updates.
For more than two decades I have attended a weekend association meeting in Southern California. In 2021 I visited Santa Monica pier for the first time since my first trip to California in 1988. I stood on the wide paved pathway within sight of Gold's gym, watching all sorts of people doing all sorts of things and Santa Monica pier as a backdrop to this scene. There was a small patch of grass where men held women over their heads as though training for ice skating competitions or Dirty Dancing acting calls. There was laughter and hawkers of street corn, palm trees and volleyball nets, a ferris wheel and oil tankers in the distance floating on the gray sea waiting to come into port.
This was a pilgrimage to try to connect with some part of me that was as yet out of reach. I stored this painting away for a long time not having any perspection on it. I pulled it out a while back and recently painted on it. It's still in progress. Check back for updates.