Lots of things happen on the cliffs. On the week I painted this there were two cliff rescues, with fire trucks and big winches. There was someone cliff diving and tourists taking pictures of it. There was a delivery of a classic corvette to a beachfront mansion. A street was closed off for a gas leak you could smell for blocks. And painting happened.
Near my grandfather’s place deep in the Oklahoma countryside.
The cliffs in Cabrillo. I painted this last summer.
When I have my periodic fantasies of leaving the city and moving someplace quiet, the Santa Ynez Valley is high on my list, along with Catalonia and the ghetto parts of Italy.