Looking for Paintings - Part 5
I was about a year ahead of Gerry Woolery at Chouinard Art School in Los Angeles. I graduated in 1966. Gerry's dad, Adrian Woolery, was UPA's first production manager.
Check this link - http://flickr.com/photos/amidamidi/215535124/.
Ade then went on to found Playhouse Pictures in Hollywood. Legend has it that Gerald McBoing Boing was named after Gerry because he was playing around the UPA offices when he was 7 years old. Gerry sold Playhouse Pictures about a year ago and "retired" to Whidbey Island, Washington with his wife, Angele. I notice that a lot of my friends "retire" only to go do something else that they always really wanted to do. In Gerry's case, he wanted to own a restaurant and be a cook.
His wife Angele is a hell of a fine artist and when I visited them on Whidbey Island, I slept in the loft that she uses for her studio. So I'd wake up every morning surrounded by paintings that I'd like to have hanging on my wall at home. Right now, I'm not sure where home is, but...
Here's the IMDb link to Gerry - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0134751/combined
Gerry's Kitchen is in the small town of Freeland on Whidbey Island, and if you find yourself there for any reason it's worth the one-block detour off the main road to eat at Gerry's (right now he's only open for lunch and dinner.) He doesn't advertise and word-of-mouth alone keeps the place full every day. And with good reason - the service is good and the food is damn good. Gerry's there every day and he seems to be enjoying his new profession. Another cartoonist gone bad. He's closed Sunday and Monday.
Here's Gerry relaxing on the patio of his home overlooking Puget Sound with a view of the distant Cascades and the Olympic Peninsula.
A view from Gerry's patio
That's the ferry that runs between Whidbey Island and Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula.
And there's the obligatory weathered farm structure that we all love.
Between north Whidbey Island and Anacortes Island is Deception Pass...
a stunning waterway that cuts between the two islands...
transversed by a great old two-lane bridge.
The waves crashing on the rocks below were wonderful...
as was the beach under the bridge.
Just off the beach, where the grass began, lots of rabbits came out at dusk to eat. They didn't seem to be too afraid of humans. Beach bunnies I guess.
Next: Route 20 East into the Northern Cascades