The road to my studio in North Carolina. Whenever I travel to a new area I like to walk the land soaking up impressions to get a feel for it. I make small paintings such as this one to study the light, colors and textures. Oil on Canvas 6 in. x 8 in. $450
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The Journal Paintings of Daniel Ambrose. Small oil paintings, painted from life, used as inspiration for larger studio paintings.
Orange groves once populated much of central Florida, oranges likely outnumbering people. Today there are few groves; freezes and citrus canker destroying what strip malls leave. On highway 11 just twenty minutes west of where I live, a few small groves are hold outs. One of my simple pleasures is cruising down that road in spring with the truck windows open just smelling the orange blossoms.
A collector was in the studio a while back telling me Ponkans were his favorite orange, and like many things in my life I suddenly remembered what I forgot. I hadn’t had a Ponkan in years. Fast forward to last week and I was driving down highway 11 to deliver some art, the oranges are in season, and hand lettered signs of rural growers advertised their fruit; navels, tangelos, ambersweet . . . ponkans. . . Ponkans!
I pulled into the dirt road. Lining the wood fence on homemade benches sat white plastic pails piled high with oranges. Ponkans! Six dollars a bucket - put the money in the honor box and no fruit switching said the neatly lettered sign.
As we stood there deciding how many buckets to buy, a car pulled in and parked in the drive next to the house. A slim white haired gentleman got out and walked over to us. “Are these your oranges – did you grow them here?” I asked. He did he said and introduced himself as Henry Dutton formerly from North Carolina. We talked oranges for awhile and when I complimented him on how nice his signs looked (I was a sign painter once), gazing around his grove he said “well you take a little pride in the things you believe in.”
Brakes smoking, we sped down the steep twisting roads to the village of Soufriere along the west coast of Saint Lucia Island. Dodging groups of smiling plaid skirted schoolgirls walking along the edge of the precipitous road we squealed around a bend, suddenly the roadside brush gave way revealing the soaring Pitons, dominating the village below.
After a hike around the steaming sulphur springs with boiling gray magma pools and later the botanical gardens with their tropical colors, and giant begonias, we lunched on local West Indies cuisine. Our driver James ordered the local special for us in his eclectic Kwéyòl language then sat down to share the good food with us. Later I went back to the clearing and painted this small painting while the hot sun reigned over all.
Pitons, St Lucia
oil on linen 4″ x 5″
Sunrise & Sea Oats
Oil on Linen 4″ x 5″