For a dozen years I have been enthralled by the view seen from the window of my studio at Pier 70, overlooking the San Francisco Bay. Ships were the mysterious protagonists of my paintings as I contemplated their unknown journeys through changing light and weather conditions. Twelve years’ worth of ships have passed by my purview, and I’m quite familiar with all the ways they can appear and disappear.
Now, as I paint, I find it may not be necessary to literally describe the ships. Perhaps I am painting from the ship’s perspective, diving into the seascape through which they must venture in all weathers. Or perhaps they are still there, just beyond the veil of fog, hugging the shoreline in the distance. I search the light particles of water and air for the perfect unattainable spot, and sift and sort the colors that seem to simultaneously intertwine and separate themselves. In this quest, mixing and layering paint is like playing with my own delicious elements. Traveling with my mind’s eye between sea, sky and shore, I imagine myself completely immersed in the colorscape.