The Art of Daniel Ambrose

Hauntingly Beautiful Paintings

Summer Remembered


Hauntingly Beautiful Paintings



Wild an Free


Oil on Linen

Seven For a Secret

Egg Tempera on Panel


Egg Tempera on Panel

To Sleep, To Dream

Egg Tempera on Panel

Romancing the Sea - Solo Show Opening at Hughes Gallery in:









The paintings of Daniel Ambrose are renowned for their extraordinary luminosity and remarkable power to evoke a sacred sense of place. A master in the historic medium of egg tempera, Daniel’s coastal and pastoral landscapes bring beauty and peace to our busy lives. Read Daniel’s journal and explore the painting galleries to find inspiring stories and beautiful art to enrich your life.

“Find what you love, and make it yours.” – Daniel

New Paintings


Waiting Out a Storm, Oil Sketch as Evening Falls

Sitting in a cafe, cup of black coffee in hand, hardcover sketchbook open on a thick wood table, I wait out a tropical storm. Reviewing recent drawings of the local beach, and making notes from a book I’m currently reading by Thich Nhat Hanh, The Art of Mindful Living.

Lightning and wind have been lashing the area all morning. Churning up white waves on a typically placid sea. Through the cafe’s blurry windows, gray and . . .

Painting the Sound of a Seaside Morning

The sun is gleaming on the the water. Far out on the horizon, a rolling thunderstorm grumbles over the Gulf. Closer to shore, cumulus clouds drift in a silent, lazy train.

I am surrounded by textures, immersed in patterns, forms repeat in various incarnations. Floating, curving and ever shifting forms. The moist air of clouds. . .

This Beautiful Planet

“Excuse me sir. . . excuse me sir. . . Sir, sir, excuse me. . . sir were you sitting here when the maintenance people came and took my stuff?”

I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t be here today.

The sound of thunder rolled me out of bed early this morning. I decide to go to the same spot on the beach that I painted yesterday. Maybe do a color study of the morning glory.

The clouds are massive, packed and bunched up high in the sky. Thunder booms and a dark curtain of rain brushes along the horizon. I whip out my paint box to capture its color.

A lone tree down the distant shore catches my eye. A dark note. I had not noticed it yesterday. An Australian pine? This is what I was taught to call them as a child, until someone told me they are also called Casuarina. I don’t know. I don’t even know what color it is in this moist light. I see that it’s dark, a gray violet and a bit warmer on the —

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