To quote Thomas Wolfe & Ella Winter (or, The Shangri-La's)
"You can never go home again" is apropos to where my mind is at these
days. 'Middle-age' is (for me) a time of living in two camps; the here and
now & the fond memories of my past... I know not everyone has fond
memories of their adolescence, but I sure do...
"The Land of My Nativity" (24x30) oil on canvas
I grew up in southern Orange County, California when it still had an abundance of citrus groves -- now there are but a scant few. In fact, the neighborhood where we lived in the 70's was built in an orange grove. Today the grove is long gone (as is the bareness of the hills that surrounded that small valley in San Juan Capistrano) but the memories remain; hide n' seek in the grove, building forts in the eucalyptus trees and coming home with our clothes wreaking of orange juice.
"The Scarlet Conclusion" (9x12) oil on linen SOLD
In recent years when I've gone back to visit as a painter, the anticipation in my mind's eye never matches up with the reality that exists there now. The barren hills & vistas of the early California Impressionists (or even of my youth) have long since been plowed under in the name of urban sprawl. Those images of undeveloped Southern California are only to be found in history books now, or among the paintings of William Wendt, Edgar Payne and Hanson Puthuff from a century ago...
So although 'I can never go home again' literally, I can still revisit those idyllic places of my youth in my minds eye, and on canvas... AND (as the Shangri-La's would sing) that's called, "Glad" ~
