With Love, Bear
In the restless waters of the Salish Sea, drifting between “out there” and “prolly over there,” lives a small, curious soul called Bear. Contrary to what you might expect, she’s not an actual bear, which has been a disappointment to some people. However, she lives on a boat, so she’s at least somewhat interesting. “Living on water makes sense,” she says. “It’s always moving, like me, except I occasionally sit down.”
Raised in the shadow of the Pacific Northwest’s moist trees, Bear has always felt pulled toward water, likely because it doesn’t require much effort to stand still and look thoughtful near it.
From her floating workshop, she paints the world as she sees it: Otters playing hide-and-seek in kelp beds, fairy tale creatures that belong in books you wish you’d read and waves that always seem to be in a rush, despite never actually going anywhere. “I think I’m just trying to make the ocean proud of me,” she says, “but it hasn’t said anything yet, so I’m taking that as encouragement.”
She also paints pets, mostly commonly dogs. A lot of dogs. “It started with one,” she remembers, “and before I knew it, I was memorializing cats and crafting a family portrait of ferrets in vintage attire. There was also that dog surrounded by enough weed to make Snoop Dogg proud, but she insists that was just good business.
Her portfolio doesn’t stop there. She recently completed a breakwater piece that now stands as a permanent installation in Port Townsend, proving that her art isn’t just about capturing waves but making them too.
After years of painting, Bear’s creativity has begun to expand. She’s started crafting treasures that look like they were stolen in a fairy tale heist—sculptures, trinkets and “artifacts from places that don’t exist yet.” Maybe even a working model of the moon, if she ever figures out how glue works underwater.
She’s fascinated by objects that feel like they have a story, “even if the story is mostly about how I glued my fingers together,” she giggles. She’s drawn to the idea of building treasures that feel like they were plucked from tide pools or enchanted by the sea. “The goal,” she explains, “is to make things that might confuse people in a good way.”
Her artistic philosophy is simple: if the ocean can endlessly produce waves without succumbing to monotony, she can certainly create countless tiny treasures without second-guessing her choices.
Her dream is to create treasures that feel alive, whether they’re painted, sculpted or accidentally glued to her table during a moment of creative mischief. “I want to make things that make people go, ‘Wow, I didn’t know I needed this,’” she muses, “and then quietly wonder if I do, in fact, know what I’m doing.”
While some whisper that Bear might be part water nymph, it’s more likely she’s just really, really bad at staying on dry land. “It’s freeing, calming and endlessly inspiring,” she notes, “plus, the ocean never judges my taste in music, even when I’m singing sea shanties at full volume.”
Living on a boat has its challenges, but Bear insists it’s worth it. “It keeps me guessing,” she shrugs. “Plus, if I ever get bored, I can just untie the lines and see where I end up.”
Bear is determined to share her love of the ocean’s magic, one brushstroke— or accidental glue mishap—at a time. Through Seafoam & Sage Co., Bear invites you to experience the ocean the way she does: untamed, magical and occasionally covered in paint. Each creation serves as a testament to the sea’s enchantment—done as always, with love.