Remembering Monterey
Tasting Memories and Painting Impressions
When I attended the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California, I would frequently spend Saturday afternoons reading homework amidst the glory of the Santa Lucia Mountains near Carmel. I was (and remain) delightfully captivated by the warm, golden sunlight bathing the violet-gray mountains, the most iridescent amber I have ever seen. I didn’t learn of Monterey through Steinbeck but the other way around. His thoughts on that place are now celebrated as our greatest literature.
“The beauty of the coast is almost staggering and there is something so touching about the muted quality of the light in coastal California."
And another:
“Monterey—is the California that men dreamed of years ago, this is the Pacific that Balboa looked at from the Peak of Darien, this is the face of the earth as the Creator intended it to look."
My wife, son, and I made several trips there over the years. On one of those visits we were hosted by a family in Pebble Beach. For ten days or so we enjoyed the golden glow of eventide near Carmel-by-the-Sea As I allow myself to think about Monterey I am transported to the more pleasant hours and days my youth, a journey of the mind made possible by sensible vignettes: the aroma of freshly-baked sour dough bread at a bakery on Cannery Row—my go-to place on early Saturday mornings, where I would buy a loaf, tea off a piece for me and two pieces for the otters—the taste of a certain cold-clean air made unforgettable by the perfume of forest green conifers diffused in the wind with briny droplets from an incomparably blue Pacific, the sounds of the Western Seagulls clamoring for fishy scraps behind weathered boats returning to Fishermen’s Wharf. And the sights? Well, I have attempted to portray one of those visions here. A view from a cliffside perch made resplendent with wild lavender, Larkspur, poppy, and lupine. I admit the indisputable fact: no painting can do it Justice. Nevertheless, I have attempted to portray what my senses remember.
My art is available at this online gallery where you can make several decisions about a frame and canvas: https://www.ArtPal.com/mamilton?i=164199-89&r=164199. If not, I hope the image will bring you joy or at least serenity in the viewing.
Vignettes—the taste of a certain cold-clean air made unforgettable by the perfume of forest green conifers diffused in the wind with briny droplets from an incomparably blue Pacific, the sounds of the Western Seagulls clamoring for fishy scraps behind weathered boats returning to Fishermen’s Wharf. — M. A. Milton
Reference
Steinbeck, John. "Monterey." In America and Americans, 91-92. New York: Penguin Books, 1966.
Steinbeck, John. The Log from the Sea of Cortez. New York: Penguin Books, 1995.