By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
Wyland—the marine artist--is in a remote part of Puerto Rico and unavailable for comment.
On August 21, 1997, Lavery said, he was written up on a 5150 charge--insanity. He was evicted from a second gallery on PCH. He said he was angry and frustrated the night before his eviction and punched holes in some of his work. He acted out his wave of destruction for me, his eyes welling with tears, his face reddening.
He stopped. And then he talked about his donations to the Catalina Island Conservancy Ball. Stripped of everything, Lavery said, he does what he can to survive. He played a song for me on his guitar. Sounding like Jack Johnson, he growled about the horrors of Laguna: no more Frisbee, no more sand castles, no more artists.
As I was leaving he said, "I'm not sure what angle you're going to take with the story, but maybe something like: 'Persecution of a freedom fighter, Renaissance man, family man.'"