I always feel at home when it’s windy. The fact that I have lived most of my life in windy places has something to do with it. From Lake Erie to the Atlantic to the Pacific, I have usually lived in a windy spot. And compared to life on Cape Cod, I don’t consider San Francisco particularly windy. But I do live in one of the City’s windier spots. On the edge of Alamo Square I catch all the wind that whips across Golden Gate Park and channels through the Panhandle between Buena Vista and Lone Mountain. It’s almost always windy when I walk out into the street.
It is a challenge for a painter to render the wind in one’s work. Warmth or cold, even stillness, these are elements that are comparatively easy to express in paint. As for wind, one can show its effects, the full sails, the waves, the bent trees, etc. But expressing the movement of the wind itself in paint is trickier. I think I have a new challenge…
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