The $2,400 Long-Tailed Ducks I Painted in Six Hours Over My Worst Failure Ever

(And yes – “Evening Swim” is still available right now)

If you’ve ever typed “large oil painting of birds,” “contemporary bird oil painting,” “duck painting for sale,” “long-tailed duck art,” or “realistic nature oil painting” into Google, I hope this post finds you. Because this is the story behind one of my favorite (and fastest) paintings – and it can be yours today for $2,400.

Title: Evening Swim Artist: Carlos Taylor Medium: Oil on canvas Size: 48 × 36 inches Subject: Three long-tailed ducks (Old Squaw) drifting through golden-hour light Price: $2,400 (still available at the gallery as of November 19, 2025)

Here’s the completely true, slightly ridiculous origin story.

Two years ago I had a massive canvas that I absolutely murdered. I started something, hated it, scraped it off, started again, hated it more, repeated for months. It became a scarred, lumpy graveyard of terrible ideas. I finally gave up, leaned it face-to-the-wall, and pretended it didn’t exist.

Fast-forward to spring 2025. My gallery calls in a mild panic: “Carlos, we need three large new pieces for the upcoming nature + wildlife show… in two weeks.”

I had zero large finished paintings. Zero.

I walked into the studio, saw that cursed canvas in the corner, and thought, “You know what? Today you die or become something great.”

I flipped it around, no priming, no prep, and just started painting directly over the disaster. Six hours later – one single six-hour session – I stepped back and actually liked what I saw: three long-tailed ducks catching the last warm light of the day, loose brushwork, luminous reflections, cool blues melting into gold. I titled it Evening Swim, signed it, and shipped it off with the two other deadline miracles.

It now hangs in the gallery looking calm and confident, as if it had been carefully planned for months instead of panic-blasted into existence in under a day. Underneath those serene ducks? Layers of my worst painting ever. I love that secret. It feels like redemption in pigment.

If you’re looking for:

• a large contemporary bird oil painting
• realistic yet painterly waterfowl art
• coastal or wetland nature scenery for your home
• an original oil painting of long-tailed ducks / sea ducks
• artwork that captures golden-hour light on water

…then come see Evening Swim in person or inquire through the gallery. It’s priced at $2,400 and ready to ship worldwide.

I paint moments of quiet in the natural world – wading birds, waterfowl, marshes at dawn, oceans at dusk – all in oils with a mix of realism and atmospheric mood. My collectors tend to be people who kayak, bird-watch, hunt ducks, or simply love that feeling of standing still while the rest of the world rushes by.

Whether you found me searching “Carlos Taylor artist,” “blue heron oil painting,” “long-tailed duck painting for sale,” “large bird painting living room,” or any of the hundred variations Google offers, I’m glad you’re here.

If this painting speaks to you, don’t wait too long – the show is up now and pieces have been moving fast.

Inquiries: [your gallery contact / your website / your email – I can add the real link if you give it to me]

Thank you for looking, and thank you for supporting living artists who occasionally paint over their disasters in six-hour bursts of desperation and joy.

– Carlos Taylor Contemporary oil painter of birds, wetlands, and quiet water Website: www.carlostaylorart.com Currently exhibiting: American Holiday in St.Michaels

(And yes – if another deadline miracle is required, I still have a couple of terrible old canvases in the corner waiting for redemption.)

The $2,400 Heron That Never Saw a Gallery Wall

(A true story from the warehouse)

I painted this great blue heron last year. “Still Waters” – 48 × 24 inches, oil on canvas, all misty greens and quiet light. I love this piece. It’s one of those paintings where everything just worked: the mood, the color harmony, the way the bird stands half-dissolved into the fog like it’s deciding whether or not to exist today.

When it came time to send work to my gallery, I crated it up with a handful of other new pieces and shipped everything off.

And then… it never made it out of the warehouse.

There simply wasn’t wall space. The gallery was packed with a big group show, every inch spoken for. My heron, along with a couple of others, got politely wheeled to the back, still in bubble wrap, still in its crate, and parked among the flats and racks.

End of story, right?

Wrong.

One of the gallery’s salespeople—bless them forever—had a different idea. Instead of letting the paintings gather dust, they started bringing serious collectors back into the storage area on private appointments. Just flipping on the fluorescent lights, pulling a few crates out, and saying, “Wait till you see what just came in…”

A couple from out of state flew in to look at something else entirely. The salesperson walked them past the racks, uncrated the heron, propped it up on an empty easel under a single clip-light, and ten minutes later the painting was sold. $2,400, paid that day.

It never hung on a gallery wall. It never saw the nice track lighting or the opening-night wine crowd. It sold literally in the warehouse, under humming fluorescents, surrounded by cardboard and other people’s unsold dreams.

I laughed out loud when the gallery called to tell me. In an age of Instagram hype and art-fair frenzy, my quiet little heron found its person in the least glamorous spot imaginable—among the spare stretchers and the rolling racks.

There’s something perfect about it. The painting is all about stillness and patience, and it waited patiently in storage until exactly the right eyes found it.

So wherever you are, new owner of the heron—thank you. I hope it brings as much calm to your home as it did to mine while I was painting it. And thank you to the brilliant salesperson who refused to let good work stay hidden in the back.

Sometimes the best sales don’t happen under spotlights. Sometimes they happen in the warehouse, where the real magic hides.