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Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
There's one tall tree left on the bay in Sea Isle City. A single deciduous tree, holding its ground at the water's edge. Locals spot it from the bridge on the way into the island. It means you're almost home.
We are lucky enough to have it right outside our decks.
For two months every summer, the sun sets directly on our block, and this tree becomes something else entirely. The light moves through it slowly, golden and warm, shifting the colors in ways that are almost impossible to predict. I've painted it a dozen times — and every night the light is a little different.
This painting is about feeling that stillness. That moment when the day softens, the water quiets, and everything slows down just enough for you to feel inspiration and awe and reflect on the contrast of not only the warm bright against cool dark colors but of the feeling of how beautifully small we are.
Some places also have that effect on you. This tree, at this hour, is one of them.
There's one tall tree left on the bay in Sea Isle City. A single deciduous tree, holding its ground at the water's edge. Locals spot it from the bridge on the way into the island. It means you're almost home.
We are lucky enough to have it right outside our decks.
For two months every summer, the sun sets directly on our block, and this tree becomes something else entirely. The light moves through it slowly, golden and warm, shifting the colors in ways that are almost impossible to predict. I've painted it a dozen times — and every night the light is a little different.
This painting is about feeling that stillness. That moment when the day softens, the water quiets, and everything slows down just enough for you to feel inspiration and awe and reflect on the contrast of not only the warm bright against cool dark colors but of the feeling of how beautifully small we are.
Some places also have that effect on you. This tree, at this hour, is one of them.