When Rosalie Marsh-Boinus first wandered the pathways of the Sawdust Art Festival in the 1970s, she couldn’t have known that decades later she would be one of the artists inside the booths, greeting collectors and sharing her own work. At the time, she was a recent transplant to Laguna Beach from Los Angeles, captivated by the town’s mix of seaside charm and creative energy. But destiny, like paint on a canvas, was already taking shape.
It began, fittingly, with a coffee cup. When Rosalie spotted a set of mugs that resembled the ones she had been gifted at her wedding, she discovered they were made by Bill Darnell, a local ceramicist. Their conversation turned into an invitation to one of his classes at the high school. She signed up. What she found wasn’t just a love for ceramics but a community: artists such as Sue and Mark Winner and Eve Loftsgaard, who became lifelong friends.
“I always tell young artists: never give up,” Rosalie says. “If your passion is there, that’s all you need. If someone tells you that you don’t have artistic talent, ignore them. They’re usually wrong.”
She speaks from experience. When she applied to show at the Sawdust in 2006, just after recovering from breast cancer, she wasn’t sure she would be accepted. She was. That first year she sold a painting inspired by a photograph she had taken in Israel, and she still remembers the thrill of seeing it go home with dear friends. Since then, she has been a fixture at the festival, exhibiting her work for 19 years.
Her paintings and handbags, often vibrant with a style that nods to Post-Impressionism and German Expressionism, have earned her affectionate nicknames from visitors: “Ms. Picasso” or “Ms. Matisse.” She embraces the spirit of both but calls herself a Modern Expressionist. “Sometimes I look back at my own paintings and I can’t believe I painted them,” Rosalie says. “It feels like a miracle.”




“I always tell young artists:
never give up,”
Rosalie says.
“If your passion is there, that’s all you need. If someone tells you that you don’t have artistic talent, ignore them. They’re usually wrong.”
For Rosalie, inspiration is everywhere: museums around the world, music, theatre, and the very act of picking up a brush or starting a new piece. What keeps her rooted, though, is the community she has found at Sawdust. When illness struck again, this time sciatica so severe she couldn’t walk, her fellow artists covered her booth, sold her work, and kept her connected to the festival.
That sense of camaraderie is as vital to her as any sale. Still, selling a piece never loses its magic. She often photographs buyers with their new acquisitions, sharing the moment on Facebook. “When someone takes a piece home, I feel ecstatic and happy,” she says. “I hope they love it as much as I loved creating it.”
Like many artists, she has weathered lean summers and abundant ones. She recalls a season where sales were sparse until a collector purchased her “Blue Lady” painting for $750, an artwork that now hangs in a law office. Stories like these underscore her enduring philosophy: try, keep going, trust the work.
For nearly two decades, Rosalie has been shaping more than canvases and handbags. She has been shaping a life anchored in creativity, resilience, and friendship. And for anyone doubting their place in the arts, she offers living proof: passion, persistence, and a little faith are more than enough.