They thrive in the quiet, delighting those with peace of mind.
It’s Beadle’s memoires that we see, the forests of her childhood home, her visit to neighboring Chicago, or the coast along Lake Erie. Just as her paintings blur the line between the digital world and our own, her memory becomes pixelated. We choose to Google rather than draw a mental picture. That’s life in the 21st century. Beadle can’t help but confuse her own experiences with the countless images she sees online. We’re left with what’s in between, a mix of HD quality with the fuzziness of the past.
Beadle never went to art school. She grew up in Hawaii surrounded by lush tropical plants and hundred-year old trees stitched together in tunnels. She didn’t have much of an interest in art until she saw the work of painter Giorgio Naranjo in a gallery. Naranjo took Beadle under his wing, teaching her the ways of the palate knife. It’s easy to see Naranjo’s influence on Beadle. They share the same aesthetics, thick slabs of colorful paint, sunsets and sunflowers, saturation and the sea. They share the same love of
Colorful harbor - oil on canvas, 2016