Eli Siegel

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Veils and Mists, 2025. Oil and acrylic on wood board, 94 x 46 in.

Transparency, 2025. Oil on wood board, 24 x 24 in.

Half-Tide, Gold Star, 2025. Oil on plastered canvas, 24 x 32 in.
My favorite scent is the acrid odor of damp seaweed left along the shore. 
I notice it during low tide when I cross the causeway to visit my family in 
the summers and on holidays. The ocean is somewhere between a 
boundary and a bridge for me; it captures an endless state of movement 
while retaining a stagnant nostalgia I can’t seem to escape.

This place is both familiar and foreboding or at least quiet. Painting gives 
me a moment of clarity, a way to imagine myself organized by color and 
space, though I hope to dismantle those formalist elements over time. 
Though I often paint with oils, I crave the way water is absorbed and 
stains after evaporation— a medium that moves and breathes. Sometimes, 
the paint becomes a creator on its own, shifting my role from artist to 
conductor, guiding the flow of pigment rather than controlling it. It’s 
difficult for me to slow down and quiet my perfectionism rather than 
feeling pulled in many directions and inadequate. I often feel more 
comfortable with limited color flexibility and fluid compositions to avoid 
the vast expanse of creative decision making. But I now understand what 
it means to cross the barrier between technical skill and subconscious 
imagination.

It takes patience.

The moon that pulls the tides does not know she is eroding the shore’s 
cliffs. After all, it is not she who smooths out the coasts for thousands of 
years but the waves that ebb and flow beneath her gaze.