This is not a painting, but it is one beautiful photograph of a beautiful beach. Congratulatins to Marcio Rogerio, the photographer.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Friday, June 4, 2010
San Diego Watercolors, 1960s scenes...
The first of a set dedicated to the memories of San Diego in the early 1960s. Watercolor pencils with brush washes and some pen and ink details.
LIBERTY IN SAN DIEGO 1960S STYLE By Robert L. Huffstutter
When I got out of USNTC Boot Camp in 1960, I received orders to COMNAVAIRPAC across the bay at NAS North Island. It was a great duty station, working for the flag officers and Naval Air matters. At that time, there was no Coronado bridge and the only way to get downtown was via the nickel snatcher, a USN boat that went from NAS to the foot of Broadway. The walk up to the center of San Diego to Union Square was an experience with the various tattoo parlors, cafes and beer joints. The drinking age, however, was strictly 21, and most of the clubs enforced this with no exceptions. But there were some place off Broadway that would bend the rules. The bar above was not one of them. The old bar named Pearl's Harbor was strictly for the old vets who were in World War II, so that was not a hangout for us young guys. At the time, many of the guys who were in WWII were still on active duty and finishing up 20 years of service. Wow, time flys. When I think of being in the service at the same time the guys who won the war were in the service it blows my mind. Anyway, that was the way it was in 1960, and it was a different America back then. The coffee tasted different, the hot roast beef sandwiches were richer and thicker and nobody was worried about how much fat we consumed.
There was no major racial strife--most all the guys got along well; it mattered little about color or religion then. Despite the tales that might be spun by the left, there was equal treatment and equal opportunity in the USN in the 60s.
So, that's the way it was in the summer of 1960 around Pearl's Harbor. The beer smelled good drifting through the door, but all of us who were not 21 had to find a lesser establishment to buy our draft beer for 20 cents a mug. Bottles were about 35 cents. When we finished up the night, we walked back down to the foot of Broadway and caught the nickel snatcher, a little craft that was a bit bigger than an admiral's boat, and headed back to the Naval Air Station, eating our cupcakes and drinking our coffee or pop, hoping we wouldn't stumble getting off the boat. That was a liberty in downtown San Diego, 1960s style.
LIBERTY IN SAN DIEGO 1960S STYLE By Robert L. Huffstutter
When I got out of USNTC Boot Camp in 1960, I received orders to COMNAVAIRPAC across the bay at NAS North Island. It was a great duty station, working for the flag officers and Naval Air matters. At that time, there was no Coronado bridge and the only way to get downtown was via the nickel snatcher, a USN boat that went from NAS to the foot of Broadway. The walk up to the center of San Diego to Union Square was an experience with the various tattoo parlors, cafes and beer joints. The drinking age, however, was strictly 21, and most of the clubs enforced this with no exceptions. But there were some place off Broadway that would bend the rules. The bar above was not one of them. The old bar named Pearl's Harbor was strictly for the old vets who were in World War II, so that was not a hangout for us young guys. At the time, many of the guys who were in WWII were still on active duty and finishing up 20 years of service. Wow, time flys. When I think of being in the service at the same time the guys who won the war were in the service it blows my mind. Anyway, that was the way it was in 1960, and it was a different America back then. The coffee tasted different, the hot roast beef sandwiches were richer and thicker and nobody was worried about how much fat we consumed.
There was no major racial strife--most all the guys got along well; it mattered little about color or religion then. Despite the tales that might be spun by the left, there was equal treatment and equal opportunity in the USN in the 60s.
So, that's the way it was in the summer of 1960 around Pearl's Harbor. The beer smelled good drifting through the door, but all of us who were not 21 had to find a lesser establishment to buy our draft beer for 20 cents a mug. Bottles were about 35 cents. When we finished up the night, we walked back down to the foot of Broadway and caught the nickel snatcher, a little craft that was a bit bigger than an admiral's boat, and headed back to the Naval Air Station, eating our cupcakes and drinking our coffee or pop, hoping we wouldn't stumble getting off the boat. That was a liberty in downtown San Diego, 1960s style.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
DETAILS OF: HOT DOGGIES, A WATERCOLOR
AN ESSAY ON WATERCOLORS BY ROBERT L. HUFFSTUTTER
If there's one major truth about painting with watercolors, it is the sense the artist has that the painting is either not "quite right" or "not quite" done, two sensations that can totally ruin what could have been a fairly decent watercolor.
These two personal assessments are not restricted to the zany or psychotic artist, they are absolutely normal whether one is a Sunday painter or commercial artist. How do I know? Simple, I have been around long enough to know these facts through personal experience and through conversation with other artists. Moreover, observation is the evidence that supports these opinions. What can we do to minimize our cost of expensive French watercolor paper and increase our confidence and self-esteem?
The answer is as primary as a a set of Prang watercolor paints. Remove the painting and set it aside for several weeks. Look at it after the time lapse and ask yourself several questions. Should there be more black lines around the window sills? Do you really need to make the blonde's hair longer? And how about the biceps of the men showing off--should they be more pronounced and obvious? Should there be two more palm trees down by the beach? After pondering over these superficial dilemmas, one will usually decide that enough is enough.
Now, about the part that there's something about the work that is "not quite right." That, unfortunately, is the realization and admission that only a few people can paint like Don Kingman. If we are so naive or vain that we do not want to exhibit until we perfect our art to the heights that Kingman's art has reached, we might as well put the brushes and paints out in the garage and wait for a neighborhood sale.We must believe that although we are not as professional and prolific as artists like Kingman, we must accept our style as our own and learn to appreciate it as our contribution to the very large and sometimes hollow world of art. To continue our momentum and keep our spirits positive, we need to keep painting as many subjects and scenes as possible. Sooner or later, we will accept ourselves as being the best we can be and understand our style is unique.
We might even begin to really appreciate our work and feel a warm fondness and affection for our paintings in much the same manner as we appreciate the work of our favorite artists. There is nothing to prevent us from looking at Kingman's magnificent watercolors and hoping that in time, we will feel like we are getting better with the completion of each new and different watercolor. That is, I honestly believe, what Don Kingman believed each time he finished a painting. One fact is obvious, he knew when to sign his name to signify that it was done.
WATERCOLORS THAT ARE NOT QUITE RIGHT AND NOT QUITE DONE BY ROBERT L. HUFFSTUTTER
If there's one major truth about painting with watercolors, it is the sense the artist has that the painting is either not "quite right" or "not quite" done, two sensations that can totally ruin what could have been a fairly decent watercolor.
These two personal assessments are not restricted to the zany or psychotic artist, they are absolutely normal whether one is a Sunday painter or commercial artist. How do I know? Simple, I have been around long enough to know these facts through personal experience and through conversation with other artists. Moreover, observation is the evidence that supports these opinions. What can we do to minimize our cost of expensive French watercolor paper and increase our confidence and self-esteem?
The answer is as primary as a a set of Prang watercolor paints. Remove the painting and set it aside for several weeks. Look at it after the time lapse and ask yourself several questions. Should there be more black lines around the window sills? Do you really need to make the blonde's hair longer? And how about the biceps of the men showing off--should they be more pronounced and obvious? Should there be two more palm trees down by the beach? After pondering over these superficial dilemmas, one will usually decide that enough is enough.
Now, about the part that there's something about the work that is "not quite right." That, unfortunately, is the realization and admission that only a few people can paint like Don Kingman. If we are so naive or vain that we do not want to exhibit until we perfect our art to the heights that Kingman's art has reached, we might as well put the brushes and paints out in the garage and wait for a neighborhood sale.We must believe that although we are not as professional and prolific as artists like Kingman, we must accept our style as our own and learn to appreciate it as our contribution to the very large and sometimes hollow world of art. To continue our momentum and keep our spirits positive, we need to keep painting as many subjects and scenes as possible. Sooner or later, we will accept ourselves as being the best we can be and understand our style is unique.
We might even begin to really appreciate our work and feel a warm fondness and affection for our paintings in much the same manner as we appreciate the work of our favorite artists. There is nothing to prevent us from looking at Kingman's magnificent watercolors and hoping that in time, we will feel like we are getting better with the completion of each new and different watercolor. That is, I honestly believe, what Don Kingman believed each time he finished a painting. One fact is obvious, he knew when to sign his name to signify that it was done.
WATERCOLORS THAT ARE NOT QUITE RIGHT AND NOT QUITE DONE BY ROBERT L. HUFFSTUTTER
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Highway 101 near Malibu linen postcard
Highway 101 near Malibu linen postcard
Uploaded by amhpics on 25 Jun 08
Uploaded by amhpics on 25 Jun 08
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Room With a View
watercolor from a photo taken from my balcony in Key West. Little does this lass know she wound up in a painting.
Uploaded by Dan Gregory on 5 Oct
Uploaded by Dan Gregory on 5 Oct
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
venice, california sketch 1960
This is a nostaligic memory sketch of Venice Beach, California as I recall it the first time I saw it in the summer of 1959. I recall the aroma of sub sandwiches, the tantalizing scents of suntan lotions and the sound of uproarious laughter as I walked along the promenade, that cement strip that some refer to as the boardwalk. Jumping on and off the trams seemed to be the kind of fun that delighted the adolescents back then. The drivers didn't scream or shout, they treated everyone like they had a transit pass. There was a lot more drinking out of brown paper bags then as compared to those savoring the last exhaustive inhalations of joints.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
the car on the beach
THIS IS A FORD. THIS IS A FORD ON THE BEACH. THIS IS AN OIL PAINTING THIS IS COOL.............OIL ON CANVAS BY DMARSH
Uploaded by dmarsh451 on 23 Nov 08
Uploaded by dmarsh451 on 23 Nov 08
Saturday, May 23, 2009
CIMG3165
AN ESSAY ON THE COMPLEXITIES OF PHOTO IMAGES BY R.L. HUFFSTUTTER
THIS IS ONE TO STUDY AS ONE MIGHT STUDY A CANVAS IN A GALLERY. I CAN ENVISION STUDENTS SEATED ON BENCHES WITH THEIR SKETCH BOOKS AS THEY DO IN MAJOR MUSEUMS AROUND THE WORLD. THEY APPEAR TO BE CONSIDERING THE VARIOUS ASPECTS OF THE WORK AS THEY SKETCH THE ORIGINAL.
LET ME CAST MYSELF IN THE ROLE OF AN ART MAJOR SEATED ON AN OAK BENCH GAZING AT THE WORK BY SUPERDE1LUXE: How important is the lamp in relation to the rocks? Should the rocks be termed boulders? How far away are the islands? Why are the the boulders so close to the lamp? Is there a season when the lamp must be turned off at night to prevent hatching turtles from being confused about direction to the water?
Although at first glance, this photograph might look simple and elementary, but one can easily understand the complexities of studying images if one is interested in the varied images of art. As one who enjoys the story behind the work or image, this photograph offers much material to digress, study and note. It is an image that would be difficult to reproduce. Congratulations to the photographer and artist for a truly unique art photo.
THIS IS ONE TO STUDY AS ONE MIGHT STUDY A CANVAS IN A GALLERY. I CAN ENVISION STUDENTS SEATED ON BENCHES WITH THEIR SKETCH BOOKS AS THEY DO IN MAJOR MUSEUMS AROUND THE WORLD. THEY APPEAR TO BE CONSIDERING THE VARIOUS ASPECTS OF THE WORK AS THEY SKETCH THE ORIGINAL.
LET ME CAST MYSELF IN THE ROLE OF AN ART MAJOR SEATED ON AN OAK BENCH GAZING AT THE WORK BY SUPERDE1LUXE: How important is the lamp in relation to the rocks? Should the rocks be termed boulders? How far away are the islands? Why are the the boulders so close to the lamp? Is there a season when the lamp must be turned off at night to prevent hatching turtles from being confused about direction to the water?
Although at first glance, this photograph might look simple and elementary, but one can easily understand the complexities of studying images if one is interested in the varied images of art. As one who enjoys the story behind the work or image, this photograph offers much material to digress, study and note. It is an image that would be difficult to reproduce. Congratulations to the photographer and artist for a truly unique art photo.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
090420
ONE EXCELLENT BEACH PASTEL.........PASTELS ARE DIFFICULT, BUT THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL WHEN THEY LOOK LIKE THIS. CONGRATULATIONS TO THE ARTIST J F Le Saint.............
8x10 inches
On Ebay
many of the works are for sale; work is done on a commission basis. Contact if interested, click on link to artist.
8x10 inches
On Ebay
many of the works are for sale; work is done on a commission basis. Contact if interested, click on link to artist.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Off To Sea
Off To Sea
Going to sea ....
I would leave the beach to run around on this tourist tug for awhile.
Going to sea ....
I would leave the beach to run around on this tourist tug for awhile.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Richmond district, San Francisco
TWO CARS THAT WOULD BE GREAT FOR HEADING DOWN TO THE BEACH. IN SAN FRANCISCO, THE BEACHES ARE NOT THAT GREAT, BUT ONE COULD FEED THE SEALS AND LOOK AT THE GOLDEN GATE...
Monday, April 27, 2009
PAT HARTMAN'S PAINTING OF VENICE, CALIFORNIA
One of the artists who has strong community interests in venice, pat and her husband publish an online informal guide and history of venice, california. Check it out: Virtual venice. Thanks to pat for permission to ad this favorite painting of one of my old favorite places to my photostream.
PAINTING BY PAT HARTMAN
PAINTING BY PAT HARTMAN
Sunday, April 26, 2009
REMEMBERING VENICE BEACH OF THE 60S
OKAY, HERE'S YET ONE MORE SKETCH OF THE WAY IT WAS IN THE 60S, ANOTHER VIEW OF ONE OF THOSE LITTLE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA BEACH TOWNS OF THE 1960S. I ALWAYS PLAY AN OLD "BEACH BOYS" LP WHILE TURNING THESE HEARTFELT WORKS OUT. SOMETIMES, IF I AM ON THE COAST, A GULL WILL FLY IN AND SET DOWN ON MY WORK DESK. I DO NOT USE EASELS UNLESS I AM ACTUALLY OUT ON THE BEACH TRYING TO DRUM UP A LITTLE BUSINESS BY SELLING A FEW SIMPLE SAILBOAT ON THE HORIZON WITH PALM TREES KIND OF PASTELS OR CHARCOAL SKETCHES. HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. YOU KNOW, YOU CAN MAKE A COPY OF IT, BLOW IT UP, FRAME IT AND HANG IT UP IN YOUR PAD.......................ROB
WISHING YOU A GREAT SUMMER OF 2009
ALL OF US BEACH LOVERS HEART SUMMERS. AND THIS MESSAGE IS FROM AMANDA MUNOZ. THANKS, AMANDA, FOR YOUR PERSONAL MESSAGE WRITTEN IN THE SANDS OF LONG BEACH. YES, A HAPPY SUMMER 2009 ON WHATEVER BEACH YOU CHOOSE TO CALL YOUR SUMMER GETAWAY...
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Smulan
THIS IS THE KIND OF DOG ONE WOULD LOVE TO TAKE TO THE BEACH AND TOSS THOSE ROUND PLASTIC DISKS CALLED FRISBEES. THIS DOG LOOKS LIKE THE TYPE OF DOG WHO WOULD LOVE TO JUMP THROUGH HOOPS AND PERFORM ALL TYPES OF TRICKS, A VERY INTELLIGENT AND FRIENDLY LOOKING DOGGY. CONGRATULATIONS TO bibbi.nelson for taking such a wonderful photo and sharing it with the viewers...
Monday, March 16, 2009
WHY BEACHES ARE SO ROMANTIC By R.L. Huffstutter
BEACHES ARE VERY MUCH LIKE MOUNTAINS in that they attract people from all other geographical areas; beaches attract people from the plains because there are no beaches on the plains. Kansas residents, for example, have only to drive five or six hours and they are in the Rocky Mountains. The beaches are still many miles in the distance. So, what is the magic attraction about beaches, mountains and Kansas? Kansas? Who mentioned Kansas?
Okay, I mentioned Kansas because I am tired of the flatest state in the United States always getting a bad rap because of its geographical features. What about political correctess here? Bashing Kansas is akin to bashing tall, skinny people in some ways. For example, if my Aunt Mary had told me to stay away from tall, skinny people because they were underfed and aloof, the two having both cause and effect upon their condition, there would be public censure of my beloved and departed aunt because of her predjudice against people of such stature. Actually, Aunt Mary once told me that some of her best friends were tall and skinny. Thus, when I confronted her on her demeaning comments about tall and skinny folks, she retorted that she meant no malice, that it was only her experience with a basketball player while attending Kansas University that caused her to adopt such judgment. May aunt Mary rest in peace; she married time and again and never really found true love.
Perhaps she should have gone to the beach or to Colorado Springs in search of romance. Afterall, can one expect to find the love of one's life in Quinter, Kansas, or Goodland, Kansas? And no, not even Hayes, Kansas.
They are, however, great little towns; I have spent some time in each one forementioned. My Morris Minor broke down in the middle of a winter night back in 1967 while I was headed for Pikes Peak to write poetry. What an experience. It was most unpleasant, explaining to my wife why in the hell I had gotten it in my mind to leave the home to go write poetry on a mountaintop. She was not a happy woman. It was, I believe, her first clue that she was in for a most trying marriage. Well, here it is 2009 and we are still together. I have yet to become famous as a poet and I no longer have my Morris Minor, two sad realities that could cause me to go on a binge if I still drank.
Thank God, I got rid of that nasty habit when the doctor told me not to expect to live to see him again if I continued trying to drink a fifth of Smirnoff every day. But about the beach. Actually, there is no one beach that is romantic, they are all romantic. No, the beaches during World War Two were not romantic and never will be to the men who fought for them. But for those who have walked the beach at Waikaikai hand in hand as man and wife, man and lover, lover and woman, or whatever combination thereof, beaches are romantic.
There are memories. Oh, yes, the sound of the surf, the thunderous roar of the breakers as they rush into the boulders along the shore. There is the infinite sound of the sea birds at all hours, even in the hours after midnight, one can hear the sound of the sand piper or some kind of waterfowl as it scurries along in the sand far from where you lay with your lover, embracing, making memories to remember some far off time in the future. Yes, beaches are so romantic, so different than mountain tops, so different than Kansas.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
THOSE OLD BEACH TOWNS ON PCH 101
A PICTORIAL ESSAY OF THE OLD SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA BEACHTOWNS BY BUD FRYE AS RELATED TO R.L.HUFFSTUTTER
SKETCHED HERE IS A PASSING GLANCE OF A MEMORY OF TIMES PAST: A TYPICAL SEASIDE TOWN IN 1960S SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. IT COULD BE SANTA MONICA, HERMOSA BEACH, REDONDO BEACH, MANHATTAN BEACH OR ANY OTHER SMALL BEACH COMMUNITY BETWEEN LA JOLLA AND SANTA BARBARA. "You could close your eyes when entering the town, open them once downtown and never really know which one you were in," stated Bud Frye, a retired desk clerk who has worked every hotel desk up and down the west coast. "It's not a bad thing," Bud continued, "what I am trying to say is that they all looked just about the same. There was the surf shop, the suds shop, the laundry mat, several small bars like the old Passport Inn in Manhattan Beach," he continued, his voice trailing into a low whisper as though he was lost in another time and place, a place like the west coast in the 60s. Snapping back to the present, Bud chuckled and shook his head. "Yes, that old Passport Inn--that was the place that rocked, a cool bar where the gals just kept coming in from the hot sandy beach and turning on the charm like crazy. Man, those were the days. We played darts, drank pitcher after pitcher, all the while bare-footed with the floor so covered with sand we sometimes thought we could feel the surf on our feet. Oh, for sure. It turned out to be a spilled pitcher of beer. And the smell of suntan lotion and beer? It was like heaven. Blondes, brunettes, firery redheaded chicks with so much tan they glowed. I mean, man, like there were blondes in bikinis, brunettes, hot women, for sure, with glowing tans. Yes, those were the days, for sure. Now, they all look the same again. But this time they are all a bunch of concrete instead of the old wooded shingle and planks, you know that old-style beach type buildings."
SKETCHED HERE IS A PASSING GLANCE OF A MEMORY OF TIMES PAST: A TYPICAL SEASIDE TOWN IN 1960S SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. IT COULD BE SANTA MONICA, HERMOSA BEACH, REDONDO BEACH, MANHATTAN BEACH OR ANY OTHER SMALL BEACH COMMUNITY BETWEEN LA JOLLA AND SANTA BARBARA. "You could close your eyes when entering the town, open them once downtown and never really know which one you were in," stated Bud Frye, a retired desk clerk who has worked every hotel desk up and down the west coast. "It's not a bad thing," Bud continued, "what I am trying to say is that they all looked just about the same. There was the surf shop, the suds shop, the laundry mat, several small bars like the old Passport Inn in Manhattan Beach," he continued, his voice trailing into a low whisper as though he was lost in another time and place, a place like the west coast in the 60s. Snapping back to the present, Bud chuckled and shook his head. "Yes, that old Passport Inn--that was the place that rocked, a cool bar where the gals just kept coming in from the hot sandy beach and turning on the charm like crazy. Man, those were the days. We played darts, drank pitcher after pitcher, all the while bare-footed with the floor so covered with sand we sometimes thought we could feel the surf on our feet. Oh, for sure. It turned out to be a spilled pitcher of beer. And the smell of suntan lotion and beer? It was like heaven. Blondes, brunettes, firery redheaded chicks with so much tan they glowed. I mean, man, like there were blondes in bikinis, brunettes, hot women, for sure, with glowing tans. Yes, those were the days, for sure. Now, they all look the same again. But this time they are all a bunch of concrete instead of the old wooded shingle and planks, you know that old-style beach type buildings."
Saturday, January 17, 2009
THOSE OLD SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA BEACHTOWNS ON PCH
A PICTORIAL ESSAY OF THE OLD SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA BEACHTOWNS BY R.L.HUFFSTUTTER Based on dialogue of Bud Frye
PAINTED ABOVE IN THIN OILS (BACK IN THE 60S)
IS A PASSING GLANCE OF A MEMORY OF TIMES PAST:
A TYPICAL SEASIDE TOWN IN 1960S SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. IT COULD BE SANTA MONICA, HERMOSA BEACH, REDONDO BEACH, MANHATTAN BEACH OR ANY OTHER SMALL BEACH COMMUNITY BETWEEN LA JOLLA AND SANTA MONICA
"You could close your eyes when entering the town, open them once downtown and never really know which one you were in," stated Bud Frye, a retired desk clerk who has worked every hotel and motel desk up and down the west coast.
"It's not a bad thing," Bud continued, "what I am trying to say is that they all looked just about the same. There was the surf shop, the suds shop, the laundry mat, several small bars like the old Passport Inn in Manhattan Beach," he continued, his voice trailing into a low whisper as though he was lost in another time and place, a place like the west coast in the 60s. Snapping back to the present, Bud chuckled and shook his head. "Yes, that old Passport Inn--that was the place that rocked, a cool bar where the gals just kept coming in from the hot sandy beach and turning on the charm like crazy. Man, those were the days. We played darts, drank pitcher after pitcher, all the while bare-footed with the floor so covered with sand we sometimes thought we could feel the surf on our feet. Oh, for sure. It turned out to be a spilled pitcher of beer. And the smell of suntan lotion and beer? It was like heaven. Blondes, brunettes, firery redheaded chicks with so much tan they glowed. I mean, man, like there were blondes in bikinis, brunettes, hot women, for sure, with glowing tans. Yes, those were the days, for sure. Now, they all look the same again--not the women, but the buildings, just a bunch of concrete condos you have to spend a fortune on. The women are okay now, but now as hot as they were. If you like a bunch of damned tattoos looking at you when you're making love, fine. Or if you want to take a chance of getting tangled up in some kind of metal rivets, screws and bolts, fine. Personally, I went for the chick with the unaltered body, no plastic boobs, nothing like that. Yes, things have changed. Just like the smoking laws. What a joke. But nobody really pays any attention. We smoke when we damned please and if somebody gives us some crap about it, we just go outside for a few puffs. When they outlaw smoking on the streets, that's when the crap will hit the fan.
Friday, January 16, 2009
CALIFORNIA DREAMING BY R.L.HUFFSTUTTER
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FROM THE TIME I TOOK A DEEP BREATH OF THE AIR CIRCULATING AROUND A LIVE ORANGE TREE IN THE MACY'S DEPARTMENT STORE IN DOWNTOWN KANSAS CITY IN THE LATE 50s, I KNEW THAT IT WOULD ONLY BE A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE I BOARDED THAT LEGENDARY "ORANGE BLOSSOM SPECIAL" AND HEADED WEST. WHEN THE SANTA FE PASSED THROUGH SAN BERNADINO ORANGE GROVES, I SENSED A PHYSICAL AND LIFELONG BOND HAD BEEN BORN BETWEEN MY SPIRIT AND THE GOLDEN STATE. WHEN I SAW THE PACIFIC OCEAN FOR THE FIRST TIME, IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT...BUT IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG FOR ME TO REALIZE THAT LIFE IN THE GOLDEN STATE WAS NOT ALL IT SEEMED. THERE WERE SOME BIZARRE AND ODD SIGHTS FOR A YOUNG MAN TO COMPREHEND. THERE WERE THE GUYS AND GALS ON THEIR SOAPBOXES SHOUTING ABOUT THE END OF THE WORLD; THERE WERE SOME TALKING ABOUT BEING IN A FIFTH DIMENSION. SHOCKED? NO, JUST NAIVE AND THEN AMUSED. MY AMUSEMENT WITH THE BEACH PEOPLE WHO WERE A BIT ODD BEGAN WITH A TOLERANT SMILE AND ENDED WITH A KIND OF UNDERSTANDING I NEVER KNEW IN THE MIDWEST. IT WAS A PLACE WHERE FREEDOM REIGNED SUPREME, FOR SURE. THE OLDER I GROW, THE MORE I CAN REMEMER ABOUT THOSE CRAZY DAYS AT VENICE BEACH. OH, THERE ARE LOTS OF TALES YET TO BE TOLD. THERE WAS THE MERRY GO ROUND ON THE PIER. AND THERE WAS THE CAROUSEL BAR ON THE STRAND OR PROMENADE. THE SMELL OF THE BEER DRIFTED OUT THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR AND MIXED WITH THE SALTY AND BRINISH SANTA MONICA AIR AND ALL OF ITS AROMAS. WHEN NIGHT FELL, THE PLACE GOT EVEN WILDER AND MORE ZANY.
SOUTH OF LAGUNA BEACH...
STOP BY AND SAY HELLO TO EARL R. STONEBRIDGE, LAGUNA'S MOST FAMOUS FICTIONAL WRITER AND SAND ARTIST. IF YOU DON'T SEE EARL'S DESIGNS IN THE SAND, KEEP WALKING SOUTH...(paintprogram artist's concept by R.L.Huffstutter)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
LATEST JUNE PHOTOGRAPHS 309
THERE ARE ALWAYS ODD-NAMED SHORE BIRDS ALONG EVERY BEACH IN THE WORLD. SOME ARE NATIVE TO THE EAST, SOME TO THE WEST, AND OF COURSE, THE NORTH AND SOUTH SEA BIRDS, ALL WITH LOCAL NAMES. SO IT HAS BEEN AND SO IT WILL ALWAYS BE. ADAM NAMED THEM ALL LONG AGO AND EACH GENERATION SINCE HAS ADDED A NAME OR TWO, AD INFINTUM BIRDS...
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Pisang Rebus/ Saba (Sap Ciao)
IF YOU WERE WONDERING WHERE THE BANANAS GROW, HERE IS ONE OF THE AREAS...CHECK OUT THESE GREAT PHOTOS...
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Venice Beach Reflections
"MOST LIKELY THE BEST PHOTO OF A VENICE, CALIFORNIA SUNSET EVER TAKEN IN THE LAST CENTURY," STATED EARL R. STONEBRIDGE FROM HIS ESTATE SOUTH OF LAGUNA BEACH, CALIFORNIA. "I HAVE YET TO SEE SUCH A SUNSET FROM MY LOCATION HERE," HE CONCLUDED.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
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