In a Roundabout Way

He spent decades shaping outdoor spaces — patios, gardens and serene backyard retreats — places where people made memories. Randy Sorrell, known for his design acumen in Carmel and beyond, built a career on composition, contrast and flow. But when the time came to slow down, retirement didn’t quite sit right.

Because while some people retire to rest, Randy Sorrell retired to paint.

What started with a few canvases quickly became 50. Not long after, it became clear: he wasn’t just painting to pass the time. He was painting because he had to.

“I love to paint,” he laughs, “and would rather not have rooms of inventory.” So, he found himself doing what he always does when something matters — he got serious.

Today, Randy’s studio reflects both his inner world and his outer adventures. His work — layered, bold and emotive — is not just abstract. It’s personal. Vintage sheet music, historic 1850s maps, sand from beloved beaches and, yes, even a splash of bourbon or ocean water — his paintings are tactile journals of the places and passions that have shaped him.

While some pieces lean into abstraction, many echo the principles of modern realism — where recognizable forms are imbued with personal narrative and emotional depth. This blend allows viewers to see both the subject and the sentiment, anchoring memory in imagery while leaving space for interpretation.

Every brushstroke carries more than color — it carries memory, intention and often a sliver of Randy’s soul. Whether it’s the echo of a song, the warmth of a sunset or the laughter of grandchildren, he pours moments into each canvas with emotional honesty that resonates deeply with those who view or collect his work.

It’s no accident that Randy’s art feels familiar yet surprising. His years in design taught him the importance of composition. “We could be talking about a painting or your bathroom spa,” he says. “Creating flow, focal points … it’s all connected.”

What’s different now is the brush — less blueprint, more instinct. “Most paintings start very intentional,” he admits, “but at some point, muscle memory and emotion take over. And that’s when the magic happens.”

Community has always been a throughline for Randy. Growing up, he watched his father give quietly and consistently — rescuing dogs, helping neighbors and sponsoring baseball teams. That legacy lives on in Randy’s commitment to philanthropy. He donates artwork to fundraisers, not just because he can, but because he wants to — especially when the cause touches a friend or a memory.

His work has been called “Sorrellism” — a mash-up of emotion and experience, where scale and structure sometimes give way to intuition. A Paris street, a Carmel skyline, the sun-washed cliffs of Cinque Terre — all find their way into his pieces, transformed by memory and imagination. “Everything carries a sliver of my heart,” he says.

Even in this so-called “retirement,” Randy remains driven. He dreams of gallery space in Arizona, New York, maybe even New Mexico. But he’s not chasing fame. He’s chasing connection. “If I can harness a memory or dial up a song that inspires … I love it.”

So, in a roundabout way, one could say Randy never really stopped designing — he just swapped blueprints for brushstrokes.