Is my mural, “Gekkos in Three Rivers” finished? A job isn’t finished until I hear from the customer that she is happy. As of the writing of this blog post, I haven’t heard.
The gekko on the left was the next one to be painted. These are the colors I chose. You can see the striking difference from the colored pencil version to the painted one – colored pencils make such wimpy-looking art! (unless you bear down with a zillion layers. . .)
I finished the remaining one – my current favorite color combination of blue with brown (a teal sort of blue with a pinkish grayish brown is really my favorite, but let’s not quibble here).
This is all 3 pairs. I studied them from a distance and then touched up this, that and the other thing. . . a little wider tail here, a few more spots there, painted “fingernails” in a few places, a wider body. . .
And here you can see them all together.
What a lovely place to work this has been. . . happy sigh of gratefulness for nice weather and a really full river.
Let’s step back and see it in on the gazebo. Don’t you just want to hang out here?
And finally, as it appears from the road.
It sort of looks like a (wobbly) banner. You can see there is something on it, but don’t know what it might be. Lots of colors, but which ones? Hmmm, maybe it will make people drive more slowly on North Fork.
My decision is made: gekko is correct.
Here is how the first set of transferred and redrawn gekkos looked on Day Two in the shade. Still hard to see, but not invisible.
After applying more blue chalk to the back side of the tissue pattern, I transferred 2 more sets of gekkos to the board, and then went over the top of the chalk with a pencil. (I’m always most comfortable with a pencil in my hand.)
The surface of the board is very rough, so it was with trepidation that I applied paint. I knew the brush would just bounce over the surface and make lumpy edges, so I did not put on my magnifying glasses. If I can’t see the lumpy edges, they don’t exist.
See? no lumpy edges! The colored pencil version of the first pair is taped alongside so I can match the colors.
It seemed prudent to step back and see how things look from a distance. The first gekko matches the sycamore leaves in the background exactly.
Don’t be chicken and cower with nothing but familiar green paint . . . pick another color and get on with it.
This is how it looked after 3-1/2 hours of painting. It was fun to mix up so many different colors instead of painting miles of trees in 3 versions of dark green. The sun was creeping closer and closer, and although the board was still in the shade, the painter was not. So, I loaded my supplies into the car, stepped back for another photo, and then headed back to the studio for other work. (In case you were wondering, I LOVE the variety in my job/career/business/occupation!)
I can see that some of these little guys need fattening, and it is possible that I will ask Customer if I can add some things in the open spaces around the edges and corners. I’m thinking sycamore leaves might be nice. . . sycamores are native to Three Rivers; gekkos are not. But, Customer is in charge of the content of her mural, so again, more will be revealed. . . .
Thoughts collect in my brain, camera and computer that are disconnected from art but seem worth mentioning.
- Last week I waited for a mess of RVs to pass before I pulled out onto the highway. As I went around the lake, I picked off 7 identical RVs through the 3 passing lanes. When I got below the dam, I could see 7 more identical RVs in front of me. There’s a story here that I probably will never learn.
- On the way home, I was struck in my heart by the signs that said spring is almost over. They are the fire danger sign, the brown hills, and the Farewell-to-Spring flowers.
- At the Redbud Festival, I had two conversations with different people about specific trees they love. One told me of a Redwood tree somewhere in the backcountry; the other told me of a sycamore somewhere near Conley Creek and the South Fork of the Kaweah. I tried to find the sycamore, but there are several, so I just took some photos of the river, in case I want to draw more water.
- Samson is too interested in the nests of some scrub jays outside one of the living room windows.
Another successful Three Rivers Redbud Festival in the can!
This is how my booth looked upon arrival on Saturday morning.
The large wet bridge painting seemed too fragile to ride in the back of the Botmobile, so I walked it down to the Memorial Building. Perhaps that helped to speed the drying process.
Nikki Crain, Handweaver Extraordinaire, was my next-booth neighbor. We like to do shows together, and have been for about 25 years or so. She took drawing lessons from me for several years, and we know how to cover for one another and help one another through the various ups and downs of events.
These paintings sold (the sizes are not in correct proportion to one another here: real sizes top down — 6×18, 8×10, 6×6, 6×6, 10×10)
I met a future student, reconnected with old friends, met some friendly people from Australia (either there are no grumpy people on that continent, or maybe the grumps don’t travel to the US), worked out a trade deal with another vendor, and met a bunch of new folks that I probably won’t remember. I hate that forgetting thing, but people are always nice about it. As a bonus, I collected another peculiar sight for the blog when I looked out the window on Sunday afternoon.
Redbud is a gorgeous tree or shrub that blooms in March in Three Rivers (and probably many other places.)
For many years, Three Rivers has had an arts and crafts fair called the Redbud Festival. It happens in May, this year on Saturday, May 13 and Sunday, May 14.
So glad you asked – Three Rivers Veterans Memorial Building
Great question – 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. on Saturday, 10-4 on Sunday
This is how my booth looked last year. Oh dear, there is that 24×30″ unfinished painting of The Oak Grove Bridge. I may bring it again this year, along with FIVE coloring books, ZERO tee-shirts, many cards and lots of new paintings (including a rooster, a pair of hens, and 2 paintings of eggs).
About a mile from my home in Three Rivers there is an extensive area of BLM land. There are several ways to get there, all of them a little ambiguous, but the place is still well-used and loved by mountain bikers, casual walkers, hard-core walkers, photographers, and horse-back riders. The place is called “BLM”, “Salt Creek”, and “Case Mountain”. I tend to call it “top of Skyline”. Sometimes, just walking to the opening gate is enough exercise for me, so when I want to get far out on the trails, I drive to the beginning.
Enjoy some photos from a recent excursion, where I went farther than I have for a year or two. (To a view of the second waterfall!)
Hmmm, I seem to have a pattern of photographing animals as they stick out their tongues.
The hill behind my house has a wide variety of wildflowers each spring.
The steepness makes it hard to photograph. Or, perhaps it is the lack of skill on the part of the photographer. I miss my manual cameras. Digital cameras have many advantages, but all this automatic baloney is a real hassle. Guess that is life – the more advantages, the more disadvantages too. But I digress. Let’s just enjoy the wildflowers, shall we?
Sometimes I tell you about the good parts of living in Three Rivers (running into people at the Post Office or on a walk, having a mailbox at the bottom of my driveway to drop off things). Sometimes I tell you the bad parts, which are mostly attributable to Tulare County in general rather than Three Rivers.
The down side to living in a self-contained small town and community is that when bad things happen, no one is untouched. Last week Three Rivers lost 2 men to suicide. Each had his own reasons which are not public knowledge, and each one left a trail of broken-hearted and baffled people behind. The ripples of sadness extend outward into every part of town.
This pencil drawing is called “Turbulent Times”, and it feels appropriate right now.
I wasn’t able to paint on Wednesday, due to life’s other commitments that make me thankful to be self-employed.
Have you been missing Samson? He is semi-civilized now, although better behaved for Trail Guy than for me. It might just be a male-bonding issue, or perhaps it is that Trail Guy is around more.
The first photos show our redbud tree in bloom. In the last photo, you can also see the tail end of the bloom on the flowering quince.
Just an average spring morning in Three Rivers . . .
Spring in Three Rivers is almost worth the long hot dry smoggy crowded summers. No, it IS worth it (but I doubt if you would like to move here – remember, we are all fat, poor, uneducated, have diabetes, get pregnant as teens, and have bad air. Besides, there is no Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods.)
Yesterday I didn’t paint on the Mineral King mural because it was a drawing lessons day.
In the spring, it almost causes me physical pain to leave Three Rivers, even to go to a place as mellow as Exeter, even to do a job as exciting as repainting the Mineral King mural or teaching people I care about to draw.
Life’s hard; put on your big girl pants and deal with it.
Sometimes I walk by this in the mornings (unless I’m commuting to Exeter).
If you could work here, would you drive somewhere else?
Flowering quince is still in bloom in my yard.
If you had this guy sitting on a table outside your office, would you want to leave him?
And this is the flowering pear tree outside the studio.