True confessions of a Color Junkie

A few months ago I was at Creekside Yarns, knitting with April and getting some help with a project. As we sat there together, I kept seeing the bins of sale yarn and they were bugging me. Finally I told April that I just HAD to organize the yarn by color. She just looked at me for a moment, and then said, “Color Junkie.” WOW! THAT’S IT! I am a Color Junkie! After she outed me in that small but momentous revelation, all the evidence of being a color junkie is surfacing in my memory.  Here is the first one: as a kid, I remember lying on my bed just contemplating the colors in the bedspread. Suddenly I was totally captivated by the blue – it just mesmerized me with its beauty. I jumped up, ran to find Mom and tell her. Lacking an understanding of my Color Junkie beginnings, all I could think to express was this: “My favorite color isn’t pink anymore – it’s blue!” I’m sure she was puzzled what brought it all on; I’m thankful she just kindly listened. Here is a look at part of my blue obsession:

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 favorite flower

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a painting subject I couldn’t resist and will probably paint over and over

 

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my kitchen floor

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 chair in my herb garden

Commissions in progress

Commissions are a great part of an art business. I get to paint knowing the customer is standing there with open arms and a check! It is wonderful to simply paint what floats my boat; it is just as wonderful to paint knowing someone really wants the piece.  Here are some of the current projects:

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More on Yokohl Valley

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Looks ever so slightly Montana-ish to me.

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This calls for a bicycle to follow the road!

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This one definitely wants a picnic.

 

Another Morning Walk

Because the redbud wasn’t fully out yet, I had to return to BLM land yesterday. Here is the only photo that really shows the across-the-canyon display:

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It isn’t paint-able for me – but perhaps a abstract painter or a weaver (HEY NIKKI, you listening??) might find inspiration here. Of course, I could always get yarn in these colors. . . of course, I could always get more yarn!

Exploring further afield

Instead of confining my adventures to Three Rivers and Mineral King, I went into Yokohl Valley. Not sure if this beautiful place will survive because of the plans of Boswell to create a new town. The building up of Orange County in my childhood horrified me – it looked less rural every time we visited Grandma or Grammy. It would break my heart to see that happen here in Tulare County. Yes, I know everyone has to live somewhere; please, let it be somewhere else! Michael came along as my driver so I could fill my eyes and decide where to stop without causing wrecks. We worked the first layer of the road along with a wee bit of trespassing over the course of 2 days. The flowers were fantastic. It is hard for me to compose shots of just hills and grass; my better pictures involved fences, trees and/or flowing water. Here are a few ideas for upcoming paintings:

 

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Morning Walk in Three Rivers

A mile above my house is a beautiful place which goes by many different names: Case Mountain, Salt Creek, Craig Ranch, and BLM. I call it the last one, which, if you are not a Westerner, you might not know means “Bureau of Land Management”, which is under the Department of the Interior. But enough blah, blah, blah – you probably came here for the pictures.

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Earl McKee keeps his horses here. In the morning before the sun hits, they have a little convention that looks like they are frozen in place. It was chilly!

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The other JB and I were headed into the sunshine.

 

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There are 2 seasonal waterfalls up there.

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Did you know “cataract” is another word for waterfall? The dictionary says it is “a large waterfall”; I wonder if “large” refers to volume or height.

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The variety of wildflowers was stunning, and I am rather proud of knowing the names of all these. I’m content with photos; JB wanted some to press and dry. Reminds me of my great Aunt Mary, who lived in Three Rivers when I was young. She made beautiful stationery with dried wildflowers and taught me their names.

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We walked for a little over 3 miles before having to turn around. The only consolation in cutting our walk short is that the Redbud aren’t yet in bloom and give us a reason to return soon.