Elevated Ice Cream now has on display the "Salish Sea Circle" painting by Marty David on the back wall by the sun deck wall. The QR Code links to an on-site interview with the Port Townsend artist.
Photo Details
“I paint what inspires me at the moment and I feel a part of it all somehow when it happens. When that happens and I can capture it in a painting… that’s golden!”
Sunday, July 12, 2026
Wednesday, April 8, 2026
Martin Justin David Obituary
Martin Justin David, 61, passed away unexpectedly on March 9th, 2026, at Harborview Medical Center. Born in Bremerton, WA on May 27th, 1964, Marty came to find a loving home with Jane and Gary David and their three children of Silverdale, WA. With a talent for riding horses and bulls, Marty graduated from Central Kitsap High School with several rodeo trophies under his belt, but later followed his heart to the Northwest College of Art and Design in Poulsbo, WA.
After establishing careers in both construction and art, Marty started a family in Bremerton, WA with his (now, ex-) wife Marie and their two children. However, life had other plans for Marty. Divorced, he found himself in Port Townsend, a place he soon called home where he would often bring his two daughters, Kat and Christina Jane to visit and join him in his adventures around town.
While Marty made a modest living as master roofer and skilled contractor, he was locally known as a brilliant plein-air painter and sketch artist, often seen on the sidewalk painting busy street scenes or colorful natural landscapes. His eccentric and deeply caring nature was felt by loved ones, locals and strangers alike. Many will remember him wearing paint-splattered overalls and cowboy boots.
Marty was preceded in death by his sister, Amy; his father Gary; and his youngest daughter, Christina Jane. Marty is survived by his oldest daughter, Kat; his mother Jane; and his siblings Mindy, Lori, and Gary. A memorial and exhibit of his life’s creative work is being planned for the larger community for the end of 2026 or early 2027. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the Dove House Recovery Cafe.
Facebook Post: April 11
Hi everyone, I just wanted to share words for my late father, the local artist, Marty David. We all lost a special person and in some ways a public figure, and I wanted to personally acknowledge that.
I've seen such an outpour of appreciation for my dad, as well as support for one another. I feel incredibly grateful that he was able to live out much of his life feeling at home and loved in the Port Townsend community.
My hope is to plan for a larger community memorial, as mentioned in the obituary, possibly in the next year. In the meantime, his blog is still active (thank you Jack Olmstead) and there is a beautiful tribute to my dad in yesterday's Letter to the Editor.
Thank you to everyone who continues his legacy 
- Kat David
Case: 26-00636
Name: Martin Justin David
Age: 61 years
Male
Date of Incident: 03/04/2026
Incident
Location: Port Hadlock Roadway
Cause of Death: Suicide 03/09/2026
Manner of Death: Complications of sharp force injury
of the neck
Investigation Agency: Jefferson County Sheriff's Office
Tuesday, April 7, 2026
Jefferson County Beacon: Letter to the Editor
Letter to the Editor: Remembering Marty David
His loss brings questions on the importance of community and legacy.
Guest Writer
I met Marty David not long ago, this past year on the bus.
He was wearing well his identity of being an artist. Paint splattered hat, overalls, hippy vibes radiating from every point. His eyes seemed to me curiously seeking and inviting of the world around him, yet reserved and patient at the same time. Perhaps waiting just to see, If, connection.
He carried some of his work with him, including on cards and prints for sale. He was sharing his work but wasn’t asking for anything directly. An open invitation.
One day when our eyes and smiles connected, I made verbal contact. I can’t remember our initial exchange of words but probably started with my recognizing he was an artist and him confirming. He showed me some of his work. I noticed landscapes that felt like home.
By the end of our conversation I asked him if he might ever have interest in painting some chickens. He paused for a moment and kind of lit up and said yes. He left me with his card which I tucked away in my wallet. For someday.
I regret two things that could have been from this meeting. That I had bought some art from him, and that I had followed up sooner and invited him over sometime to paint my chickens.
We had several more encounters on the bus in the next months; some were simply noticing each other from afar because we weren’t sitting near, or I was talking with another passenger. Other times there was a brief exchange of the ‘how are things’ ‘how about this weather’ variety.
In one more personal conversation, he shared that he had experienced the tragedy of losing a daughter. I felt the weightiness and held it for a moment, before offering words of empathy, how hard that must have been. He also mentioned he had another daughter, sharing some fatherly pride about her.
I also saw him at a community meal these past holidays. We didn’t speak then as I was volunteering and busy bee running here and there, but I was glad to see him. And that’s the way it was. Glad to see him. Maybe also intrigued. There was more to get to know.
The last time I saw him was a week or so before his parting. It was again on the bus. I was engaged in some lively conversation with a couple other passengers. For a while, even though he was near, he was outside of the conversation. He seemed quiet and patient like that, waiting to be invited in.
Eventually I became more aware, turned to him and asked him how he was. Apologized if we were lacking awareness, being in loud conversation. He expressed it was no bother at all. We had a little more conversation which I wish I could remember better. In hindsight, he seemed quiet. Maybe too quiet. Perhaps holding a secret.
Before his stop, I shared about a community meal that was happening the next day, macaroni and cheese! He warmly and receptively said he might try to make it.
A week later, I learned there was a vigil for him being held that evening. No further details known. Just that he had died.
Another week later, still no details, no news articles. Just wondering what happened, why we would never see him again on the bus, and why we would never be able to buy art from him, or have him over to paint chickens, or see him at another community meal.
A conversation with another community member recently informed me, with little words or details, but a lot of unspoken feelings, that he had chosen to leave.
I’m writing this not because I knew Marty David well. I’m writing this because I wish I still had the chance to get to know him better. I’m writing this for anyone who is needing to see some words for him. For his surviving daughter. Also perhaps as a message of warning, that those we know or yet to know, can leave us at any time, and our last interactions were our last chance.
When I first learned of Marty David’s death I immediately thought of our last encounter, and felt a sense of regret, for not engaging and sharing with him better. I could have been warmer, kinder, more aware. I could have been a better friend in community.
My other intention with writing this is to ask the question . . . How do we keep Marty David’s art alive in spirit and available in his chosen home and community here, Port Townsend, his muse? It’s his good work and a gift of his soul. I hope Port Townsend may find a way to keep this safe and alive and loved.
In the days soon after I learned of his passing, I went to a t-shirt shop downtown and inquired if they had any of his art. I bought this card of his, it was the last one they had.
Rest peacefully Marty David, on the other side, around that unseeable corner. I hope you’ve been beautifully embraced in a healing place. You are and will be missed here.
Facebook Post: March 18, 2016
This is very very late -
But to the anonymous person who wrote the Letter to the Editor in the JeffCoBeacon, about my father, the artist Marty David:
my family and I just wanted to extend a deep, heartfelt "Thank You."
Your words have meant so much to me and to us during this time. And it has felt important to be able to share your words and reflections with the people in my life, especially people who will never get to meet him. I think you captured my dad in such a beautiful and caring way.
Thank you thank you thank you.. 
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