The museum's journey began modestly. Payne converted a weather-beaten pavilion into a gallery where members could sell their work. But Hills had bigger ambitions. She fundraised tirelessly until members could afford to commission Myron Hunt, the noted Los Angeles architect, to design a proper building. The custom-built gallery opened in 1929, fireproof and purpose-built for California light. The collection grew steadily. In 1948, a bequest from artist Frank Cuprien's estate catalyzed an expansion, and by 1951 the building had doubled in size. The exhibition that marked this reopening became the foundation of the Permanent Memorial Collection. The institution evolved from art association to museum, officially taking the name Laguna Beach Museum of Art in 1972, then underwent a $1.6 million reconstruction in the mid-1980s. In 2016, the Laguna Beach City Council voted unanimously to grant $1 million to the museum over four years, cementing its status as a cultural cornerstone.

The museum's singular focus sets it apart. More than 3,600 artworks in the permanent collection span from the early 19th century to the present, but every piece shares one requirement: it must be California art. This means William Wendt's luminous impressionist landscapes hang alongside contemporary installations. Thomas Hill's 19th-century mountain scenes share gallery space with the abstract geometries of Helen Lundeberg. The breadth is staggering. Joseph Kleitsch's brushwork, George Hurrell's Hollywood glamour, Ferdinand Deppe's early California documentation. The 2009 exhibition on World of Warcraft proved the museum's willingness to embrace new definitions of California creativity, featuring original concept art from Blizzard Entertainment alongside fan-created works and machinima. Los Angeles Times critic Christopher Knight named the 2009 Roger Kuntz retrospective one of the nation's ten most fascinating museum exhibitions.

Each year since 2013, the museum has staged Art and Nature, a festival that transforms Laguna Beach itself into an extension of the galleries. Jim Denevan traced spiraling patterns in the sand at 4 a.m. with forty volunteers. Lita Albuquerque orchestrated hundreds of white-clad performers walking from beach to museum at sunset, each carrying a blue light. Phillip K. Smith III embedded 250 mirrored posts in an arc along the shore, reflecting the changing ocean colors throughout the day. The events blur the line between art and environment, drawing on the same landscape that first attracted plein-air painters to these cliffs over a century ago. The museum offers more than twelve thousand people each year access to educational programs, from docent-led tours to First Thursday Art Walks to film screenings that reflect its California focus.

Standing on the museum's terrace, the Pacific stretches to the horizon in the same blue hues that inspired the original association members. The Pacific Coast Highway winds below. Laguna Beach spreads across the hillsides in a tumble of galleries, studios, and surf shops. The museum remains, as it was intended, both repository and inspiration. Its centennial in 2018 brought documentary films, immersive installations by artists like Elizabeth Turk and FriendsWithYou, and a Centennial Ball on the Festival of Arts grounds. The annual California Cool Art Auction, running since 1983, remains one of the state's longest-running art auctions. The Palette to Palate fundraiser pairs gourmet dining with working artists. Each event reinforces what those original painters understood: this clifftop belongs to California art, and California art belongs to everyone willing to make the drive down the coast.