The Listeners: Impressionist coastal seascape
Big Sur: Original Abstract Beach Coastal Palette Knife Oil Painting Textured Impressionist Art in Blue, Turquoise, and Metallic Gold Colors by Talya Johnson detail
Big Sur: Original Abstract Beach Coastal Palette Knife Oil Painting Textured Impressionist Art in Blue, Turquoise, and Metallic Gold Colors by Talya Johnson detail
Big Sur: Original Abstract Beach Coastal Palette Knife Oil Painting Textured Impressionist Art in Blue, Turquoise, and Metallic Gold Colors by Talya Johnson detail
Big Sur: Original Abstract Beach Coastal Palette Knife Oil Painting Textured Impressionist Art in Blue, Turquoise, and Metallic Gold Colors by Talya Johnson mockup
Big Sur: Original Abstract Beach Coastal Palette Knife Oil Painting Textured Impressionist Art in Blue, Turquoise, and Metallic Gold Colors by Talya Johnson mockup
Big Sur: Original Abstract Beach Coastal Palette Knife Oil Painting Textured Impressionist Art in Blue, Turquoise, and Metallic Gold Colors by Talya Johnson mockup

The Listeners: Impressionist coastal seascape

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Artwork Description

Oil on Hardboard

Size

30 inches x 24 inches x 1.5 inches

Behind the Scenes

I used the highest grade materials on this painting, enjoying the different textures available through rough grained mica pigment that imitates gold flakes, and generous amounts of cobalt turquoise. Historic Lapis Lazuli, that used to be more expensive than gold, is also mixed in with the colorful layers of pigment.

Named after Walter de la Mare’s famous 1912 poem, this imagined palette knife coastal seascape was inspired by my visits to the Oregon and Northern California Pacific Coasts. Standing on the magnificent rocky seashore, I am always amazed watching the time pass as the waves return again and again, beating the beautiful rocks with unfathomable force. It’s a wonder that both terrifies me and comforts me, a touch of The Sublime where I go to pour my heart out to whoever might be listening.

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare

Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveler’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveler’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Behind the Scenes

I used the highest grade materials on this painting, enjoying the different textures available through rough grained mica pigment that imitates gold flakes, and generous amounts of cobalt turquoise. Historic Lapis Lazuli, that used to be more expensive than gold, is also mixed in with the colorful layers of pigment.

Named after Walter de la Mare’s famous 1912 poem, this imagined palette knife coastal seascape was inspired by my visits to the Oregon and Northern California Pacific Coasts. Standing on the magnificent rocky seashore, I am always amazed watching the time pass as the waves return again and again, beating the beautiful rocks with unfathomable force. It’s a wonder that both terrifies me and comforts me, a touch of The Sublime where I go to pour my heart out to whoever might be listening.

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare

Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveler’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveler’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

CARRIERS
Talya Johnson original oil paintings are professionally packaged and insured. Most packages will be shipped via USPS priority or first class mail. Print-on-Demand products are shipped via UPS. Customers will receive an email when their items are shipped with tracking information. 

HANDLING TIME
Most products ship in 3-5 business days. Please keep in mind that handling time of our products varies depending on third party manufacturing. Custom order production time for items like handmade enhanced prints, and apparel can take up to a minimum of 10 business days. Please refer to the product descriptions for detailed handling and production time-frames.

SHIPPING PRICES
Talya Johnson original oil painting, singed limited edition prints, and enhanced prints: US shipping for all 50 States and DC for all is free. All other items and destinations, shipping rates will be calculated in your shopping cart. Your card will not be charged until shipping is calculated and specified for your approval. Original oil paintings, signed limited edition prints, and enhanced prints shipped outside of the US may incur duty fees for which the buyer is responsible. We are happy to discuss shipping expectations with you, please contact us through this website.

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Artwork Description

Oil on Hardboard

Size

30 inches x 24 inches x 1.5 inches

Behind the Scenes

I used the highest grade materials on this painting, enjoying the different textures available through rough grained mica pigment that imitates gold flakes, and generous amounts of cobalt turquoise. Historic Lapis Lazuli, that used to be more expensive than gold, is also mixed in with the colorful layers of pigment.

Named after Walter de la Mare’s famous 1912 poem, this imagined palette knife coastal seascape was inspired by my visits to the Oregon and Northern California Pacific Coasts. Standing on the magnificent rocky seashore, I am always amazed watching the time pass as the waves return again and again, beating the beautiful rocks with unfathomable force. It’s a wonder that both terrifies me and comforts me, a touch of The Sublime where I go to pour my heart out to whoever might be listening.

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare

Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveler’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveler’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Behind the Scenes

I used the highest grade materials on this painting, enjoying the different textures available through rough grained mica pigment that imitates gold flakes, and generous amounts of cobalt turquoise. Historic Lapis Lazuli, that used to be more expensive than gold, is also mixed in with the colorful layers of pigment.

Named after Walter de la Mare’s famous 1912 poem, this imagined palette knife coastal seascape was inspired by my visits to the Oregon and Northern California Pacific Coasts. Standing on the magnificent rocky seashore, I am always amazed watching the time pass as the waves return again and again, beating the beautiful rocks with unfathomable force. It’s a wonder that both terrifies me and comforts me, a touch of The Sublime where I go to pour my heart out to whoever might be listening.

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare

Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveler’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveler’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.