Mark Dillinger Arts

Surfing Art and Sea Scapes

I was living in Clairemont when a good friend told me he was moving to a bigger place and that I could score his old rental in La Jolla. This place was the bomb. Right up the street from PB Point, Windansea, and a zillion other dyno reefs close by. It had a yard, a garage, and a bright study where I set up a swank little art studio. The rent was low and my fiance Millie and I were living high in La Jolla. Our landlady let us get a little dog, Taz. During the eight years we lived there she never raised our rent. I was stoked!

I was doing small airbrush pieces at that time, scanning them for computer art. I started experimenting with brush and canvas, and a larger format. Acrylics took some getting used to but that was the fun part. An old friend, a surfer and a savvy investor (he guided me to buy real estate), commissioned a painting from me. He liked it enough to order another larger piece for a bit more money. Word spread. Lucrative commissions somehow came one right after the other. People were beginning to take interest in my fine art.

I was still doing graphics in the surf industry. Rip Curl sent me to Australia twice to experience the Rip Curl-Bells Beach Classic (the longest running surf contest ever). Everything was flowing and the economy was getting stronger. My sweet little lady and I flew to her native Puerto Rico where we were married. Rockin!

I studied the nearby coastline every day, learning it as only a resident could, and thoroughly enjoying every moment. I practically lived on Windan, immersing myself in the complex, shifty reef system and the myriad, ever-changing conditions. Most important was finding those one or two-hour windows of opportunity between the heavy crowds. My timing was great. We had some really good summers in the early nineties. The wave is damn interesting, but the talented eccentric crew that people this spot are stuff of legends.

I surfed the rights. Hung in the lot. Soaked it all in. The famous shack always in view. Bear, Bones, Long-board-Larry, Conan, Lyon Child, Barnacle-Bill. And Lobster-Doug, who was the inspiration for Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, which is based on Cameron Crow's experiences at Clairemont High School. I love to watch Eddy Moore, Tad Hodjskin, and Roger Raffee longboarding, and R.K. and Henry Hunt short boarding. So many characters and always something crazy going on.

Every spot has a local crew and PB Point is no exception. Watching Skip Frye surf is an honor. This is definitely his spot. The locals built a sick hang-out pit on the rocks. They planted Mexican fan palms in the cliff for shade, and fashioned couches and decks with rubble from WWll pillboxes. All, of course, with a great view of the show.

Skip Frye's ultra smooth, minimalist approach has been likened to the glide of a pelican. Two other accomplished surf artists that hung at the point, Paul Elder and Zode, were welcoming and let me get some waves. Zode helped me with a few art tips. It was cool to rap about art and surfing with the Bird Rock soul crew.

One of my favorite point surfers, Rick Nearling, asked me to paint a large canvas of Baja. This was a turning point for me. It was to be my biggest yet. The money was there too. He and I worked to get everything just right. That one got published in a couple of magazines. Next commission was from a very spiritual friend, also from the point. This time it was a painting of New Zealand. I was really getting my technique in acrylics down, teaching myself as I went along. Always studying my thick art books.

Millie and I wanted to own property. A friend helped get me hired at a resort in Mission Beach where he was bell captain. All I had to do was shave off my goatee. I worked hard. Saved money. Painted. Sold art and saved that money. Waited for the right time.

Around this time, I was surfing north Bird Rock. An un crowded alternative to other increasingly crowded spots. The art market was warming up. The real estate market was hot. But the crowds and tension in San Diego waters were boiling over. Local Mex trips tapered off because of overcrowding, crime, and disappearing coastal access. I started looking further south, to the point breaks deep in Baja.

A friend created a web site for me, with my work laid out nice and clean, and I went into business selling signed, numbered giclee prints of my works. Painted as many large detailed pieces as I could. My marketing plan consisted of submitting my art to editors of surfing publications. It worked. Almost every image I sent ran as a full double-page spread, with my Web address and how to purchase my work. Tons of exposure. What a rush to open my email and find a bunch of messages from new clients ready to send me money. I was onto a good thing and I worked hard to put out as much art as I could. My work had earned me a presence in the hot and growing surf art market.

I made a few trips to Scorpion Bay during this time and caught it really well. But this unreal Baja point was soon to get overcrowded.

Our nice La Jolla rental had been sold and the rent was going to double. The times were a-changing. It was a sweet time with my wife Millie. We were seeing our goals come to fruit. The time for home ownership was getting ripe.

We bought a nice big condo in Loma Portal. We were near Ocean Beach, Mission Bay, and one of my favorite places in the world — Sunset Cliffs. Millie and I would take Taz to the many dog parks in our new neighborhood. Right behind us was Famosa Slough, a neat place to watch the peaceful water birds in the center of big city sprawl. I set up my table next to a south-facing window and painted with more and more conviction. I was doing transparent glazes, wet/dry stippling, and airbrush effects with a paintbrush.

I enjoyed this abundant lifestyle. I would work on my paintings tell it was time jam down to Newbreak. Then run back up the hill (sometimes in the freezing dark) to meet my girl in our clubhouse Jacuzzi , then go home and have a warm, cozy meal. We started making some fun road trips to the desert, Carmel, Santa Barbara, Mexico, and a lot of vacations in Hawaii, to stay with my sister. Once we flew to Cabo San Lucas for a week. It poured rain the whole time. We could not do a thing.

Although we had some great times, Millie and I soon discovered that we had drifted apart after thirteen years together. She got the equity in the condo. I got the condo, and Taz. A bit shocked from this startling development, I laid low and dug into painting. Kind of freaking out about my immediate and long-term future in between afternoon runs to 38 's. An old friend rented a room to help with the bills. He was making tons of trips to Scorpion, and I ended up going along quite a bit. These were to be very good trips. We surfed some epic swells. But on one huge New Zealand swell there was a heinous two hundred camps, bumper to bumper from Third Point past Second Point and the rock. I was bummed and told myself I would never return. I even saw R.K. leaving the water frustrated, and I am sure that rarely happens. He was riding an 8' 6 Frye and I liked how smooth he was ripping on a longer board.

Believing a proper Baja trip should be at least two or three weeks, my buddy and I waved goodbye to the surf forecast hordes as they headed home in a cloud of dust. A few days later, I was up before it was light and the waves were just going off. We quietly walked down and waxed our boards under the cliff, careful not to wake the few hangers-on in their tents. A hurricane was sending us tropical skies and sick hollow waves, one after another. Four people were out. I pulled into a drainer, a blue green tube looking out to a marbled orange, pink, and purple sunrise. A memorable moment for sure. Lesson learned. Never lose faith.

More of my art was getting published, and I found a new market in 11x17 prints of my paintings in clear display bags with a short biography on the back. I sold them wholesale to shops and to people down at the beach. Even in the parking lot! This was my marketing solution to reach customers that wanted to spend only 20 bucks.

My condo was going up in value. The economy was booming, and I would sell five or six prints just hanging out at the beach. Do the math. I was in good shape, I tell ya. Listening to folk music from Bob Dylan and weirdness from Tom Waits.

One fine spring morning I was walking Taz at Dog Beach and I notice this super sexy tan blondie giving GIVIN' ME A LOOK. I immediately took her to my secret beach and wooed her best I could. We fell in love, and it was full on. We took so many "road warrior" trips together, she was my dream come true. This was when I was creating my Windansea piece and I painted Maria and myself in next to the shack. Gives the image a dusky romanticism, I think. This is an important work. Windan is a sacred spot, with big-time history, and more than enough impassioned participants. My goal was to execute the best mood image the locals had ever seen. I sold prints to every local from Scott Cherry to O-star! Longboard Magazine featured a full bleed double-page spread, and sales were super good.

I was on a roll and bought an Econoline van and outfitted it for deep Baja runs with my hot babe. It turned out to be a brilliant move. Porta potty for her, a bed, water, and a stash for the 10' 2" Frye. We went down for a month (with our two dogs) and boy did we score. The best trips were to Santa Barbara, where I fell in love with that coast. Camping on the beach in Carpenteria. Eating all that authentic Mexican food. Inspired by the lighting and prolific point setups. I shot tons of reference photos that helped me created my Rincon piece. If you like fast point waves, complimented by beautiful scenics, SB is a tough act to follow. We listened to Heart, Neil Young, and Quicksilver Messenger Service under the best sunsets I have ever seen.

With all the time I spent in Mexico, I felt inspired to share my feelings about this special place. I painted a spiritual series of Baja, depicting the colors, indigenous people, and wildlife. I used formal compositions with the coastal desert color pallet, and juxtaposed elements that tell a story. Tiny tortilla flat style fish villages that dot the coast, with their shrines, plazas, and churches. I like the Catholic icons, and the strong sense of family among the people of this harsh yet beautiful seaside landcape. Some pieces have a bird's eye view, others are looking up at a monumental image or an apparition.

One of my long-time best friends gave me a influential book that explained the techniques of the master painters from the Renaissance to contemporary. That book became my bible. I learned that Cezanne used an orange ground and a snubbing application of paint, leaving many open areas for the canvas to show through. This simple recipe had a huge influence on me. I went to work on a series of paintings of Big Sur. I was taking classes in oil painting, experimenting and switching things up.

There was revolution in the air. Poor San Diego was getting ridiculously crowded, so we talked about moving. But where? We took a road trip to Oregon, took a look around and decided, why not Maui? I always loved Hawaii and Maui is not only known to have a great art market, but also Ma'alaea, Honolua Bay, and some other attractions.

I rented out my Point Loma condo and we landed on Maui in 2006. I went work on my Honolua Bay image. Luckily, I sold quite a few prints of that painting right before the economy went south. Nobody could be prepared for this market crash. I did what I had to do to keep my condo, worked a few shit jobs, and finally landed a cool gig. Taz had been with me all this time, making the jump to Maui right by my side. He made it to age 17 and is now resting in peace at Mud Flats. I decorated his grave with flowers and photos with a cross like you see on the roads in Mexico.

These days I am working hard, painting for fun, and getting in the ocean every day — no matter what! I am surfing at Ma'alaea, one of the spots I always dreamed of surfing when I was a kid looking at the photos in the surf magazines. Aloha! M.D. Back to Page 1

 

 

 

 

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