Artichokes, 16x20 oil on panel

Artichokes grow wild on the plateaus I have walked my whole life. 4 to 6 feet tall, they are majestic plants and place bursts of purple above the scrub when they flower. The plant is a variety of thistle and has been cultivated regionally as a food since the 8th century BC. I remember my mother teaching our relatives visiting from New England how to pluck a leaf off a cooked artichoke, dip it a lemony Hollandaise Sauce she made, pull it through their teeth and toss what remained into the quickly filling bowl in the middle of the table. Wild, beautiful and delicious - who doesn’t love the artichoke?

 Eucalyptus Starburst, 12x16 oil on panel

Returning from evening walks I'm offered countless versions of this beautiful 

multilayered sight.

 Fierce Offering II,  24x30 oil on canvas

Some 200 species of Agaves grow in the arid regions of the Americas and they easily create hybrids between species. The secret to their survival is their shallow root system that makes the most of scant rain as well as condensation and dew. 

I love not only the plant’s adaptability, but the countless sculptural and colorful forms it takes. Thriving in harsh settings, it tells me that beauty can happen anywhere and that hardship can lead to beauty. This fierce skyward thrust of a ball of seeds expresses to me the power of adaptability. 

 From Ancient Rootstock, 16x20 oil on panel

 

The practice of grafting new varieties of apples to older rootstock is a longstanding practice. Newly desirable varieties are spliced into older plants and will will become one with the rootstock within 2 weeks. The trunk and roots of older trees that have proved their ability to effectively extract water and minerals from the soil and resist pests, diseases and drought nourish and protect branches bearing a new variety of fruit. Isn’t that just the best analogy for a good family you’ve ever heard? 

 Hope and Endurance, 24x18 oil on panel

I associate the uniquely sculptural prickly pear with the dry and rugged hills and deserts I have spent my whole life exploring. What we used to simply called cactus rises majestically above the low grasses and scrub with paddle growing out of paddle haphazardly, as if a toddler popped together the disks.  

In late spring the plant produces its flowers of yellow, red or purple. The juxtaposition of the delicate brilliant flower and its generous fruit with the leathery and often spined paddles is remarkable and no doubt why the plant is seen as a symbol of hope and endurance.

 Red Gum, 24x36 oil on canvas

Like me the Red Gum, a variety of eucalyptus, prefers temperate coastal conditions and does well with salt spray. It’s dense glossy leaves, dark above with a pale underside offer deep and welcome shade. It flowers several times a year in spectacular fashion, putting out large sprays of fluffy red, pink and yellow flowers in sprawling clusters that float on a field of rich green leaves. The urn shaped seed pods are beautifully and move from green to purple to brown as they remain on the tree. 

Springtime Natal Plum, 10x20 oil on canvas

In the area I grew up it was important to learn to identify this plant early in life. Natal plum was a popular accent plant in the yards where we played hide and seek at dusk diving into bushes with abandon. Beneath the glossy green leaves of the Natal Plum are some wicked thorns that you needed to encounter only once to leave a lasting impression. It took me years and a much more civilized interaction with gardens to forgive the plant for its barbs and notice the beautiful fruit and the star shaped flowers that smell as sweet as the orange groves that once defined our region of Southern California.