During the seven months I lived along the Nicaraguan coast, most of my time in the water was spent at Popoyo—a wave that was powerful, fast, and often humbling. But just down the coast, Playa Santana always drew my attention. Known for its heavy, barreling surf, it carried a kind of raw beauty that was both intimidating and magnetic.
One day, with a friend’s encouragement, I paddled out. I didn’t catch much, but the experience left a mark. The energy in the water, the force of the waves, the intensity of the setting—it all felt larger than life. I brought my small plein air kit down to the beach and painted a study on site, trying to hold onto that feeling while it was still fresh in my body and mind.
When I returned home, I knew I wanted to revisit the scene on a larger canvas. Playa Santana is the result of that second rendering—more expansive, more layered, but still rooted in that original moment of awe. I painted it to reflect the intensity of that landscape: the deep, tropical greens of the hills, the saturated blues of the Pacific, and the wild movement that never really settles.
That day in the water reminded me what it feels like to stand at the edge of your comfort zone—fully alert, fully alive. This painting is my way of returning to that place, not just physically, but emotionally. It’s a tribute to the kind of beauty that challenges you, and the creative pull that follows.