Turning Around

24x48
Acrylic, wood stain, ink, text transfers on cradled birch panel 

You’ve got this turbulent, cinematic sky rolling across the top half of the piece—teals, oxidized blues, sand-washed golds, and stormy charcoals all colliding. It feels scraped, weathered, almost archaeological, like the surface has memory. There are hints of text, marks, ghosts of something that existed before—nothing literal, just enough to suggest history without spelling it out. Collectors love that tension. It keeps revealing itself over time.

Then the bottom half grounds you: surfers in silhouette, boards under arm, waiting. Not heroic. Not posed. Just present. The waves are fractured and expressive, built from fast, confident strokes that feel more like motion than water. You can almost hear the set approaching. There’s anticipation baked into this piece. The lighthouse shines upon the breaking sky with the surfers coming and going amongst the surf  

What really sells it is the contrast—chaos above, calm resolve below. Sky versus sea. Emotion versus ritual. That’s California surf culture distilled into art: beautiful, gritty, spiritual without trying too hard.

This is the kind of work that anchors a room. It belongs in a modern coastal home, a Malibu canyon house, or a Brentwood living space with concrete floors and soft light. It doesn’t decorate—it asserts. And once it’s on your wall, it becomes part of your identity.