Along the PCH: Highway of the Dream

I moved from Chicago to Malibu in 1996 and it was like moving to the land of Oz. I became a landscape painter overnight. How am I not supposed to paint that?

So I’ve always thought of the Pacific Coast Highway as my own Yellow Brick Road. It’s full of hopes and loves and unexpected turns, and when I’m not sure what’s next, all I have to do is follow it. Drive down the PCH on a Friday afternoon (my favorite time of week), ideally in a convertible with someone I love, sun at my back and a radio blasting rock and roll.

This is what Malibu looks like. That’s not an exaggeration.