Really Painting Sawtooth Again

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

I really am painting Sawtooth again. In fact, I finished the painting.

Clear, enlargeable photos, along with an operational swamp cooler, good podcasts, and nothing difficult hanging over my head made it easy to just git ‘er dun instead of looking for excuses to stop because it was too hard. Oh wait—must be experience that created the momentum.

See the South Fork Estates sign through the easel? That odd job is completed, which is why there is nothing hanging over my head. 

Here is the progression: I have finally learned how to scan and photoshop this size of painting in spite of it being too long for my flatbed scanner. When combined with Photoshop Junior, I can patch the 2 scans together.

This is not that; this is too wet to scan. But, it is finished!! Only took me seven times to get comfortable enough with this scene to be able to stretch it into a 6×18″. 


Are You Really Painting Sawtooth Again?

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yeppers, another Sawtooth oil painting. Sawtooth is visible from the flatlands of Visalia on a clear day and is the signature peak of Mineral King. It has recently become the most popular of the Mineral King subjects that I paint, and a few weeks ago, someone commissioned another version of the “Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint” view. This is number 8, and the first one in the ratio of 1:3 (6×18″, vertical).

As usual, I started with a scribbly base, and then put in the sky, working my way closer and closer to the front.

Suddenly, I was confused on all those mountain ridges, so I dropped into the stream to pick apart the rocks. I photographed the stream in order to see the rock formations at higher water, before the seasonal growth obstructed my vision. I don’t understand water flow well enough to convincingly make this up.

This represents an afternoon of work, trying to perfect the detail on the first pass, knowing full well that I will need to make corrections as the other parts get completed. And then those “other parts” will need to be corrected.

It would be satisfying to spend as much time on every painting as I am on this one. But paintings don’t require the level of detail that pencil drawings do, it isn’t cost effective, and for the most part, my customers don’t even recognize that level of intense detail. (Not everyone is as near-sighted as I am, albeit it with strong cheater-readers these days.)

Links to other posts about painting Sawtooth:

  1. Department of Redundancy Dept.
  2. Lots of Sawtooths (Sawteeth? Nah)
  3. Almost finished with the Sawtooth paintings
  4. You just won’t believe this one
  5. Back to Sawtooth

Odd Job, Chapter 4

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

This was the day for the careful work on my odd job of repainting signs for a subdivision in Three Rivers: a gray line around all the letters, and repainting the California quail.

Thin Gray Line

Mixing the color was fun, because I had success quickly. Color precision isn’t terribly important here, but I like to practice my skill. You can see the new gray around the S and the old gray around the other letters. Same, same!

The California Quail

These were harder. I couldn’t tell for sure about the colors, and this particular one had such a sheen to it that I began to suspect it was a decal rather than something that was painted directly on the redwood.

On the more weathered sign, it was clear that the quail were painted directly on the redwood.

The photo only showed the quail on the less weathered sign, which should have been adequate.
When I moved over to the other sign, I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t able to duplicate the quail when I turned my back. It took a few flailing efforts before I realized they were facing the opposite directions. 
I didn’t do a perfect job, but I was able to make them look believable.

Here are the two signs, finished as far as I am able.

Finishing

The lead man on the project knows that I don’t know how to finish these. Mendosign kindly emailed me with a suggestion to use wood stain with a red tint, saying that wood needs to breathe, and that the stain would easily wipe off the painted parts. 

Mr. South Fork Estates thought there was a risk that it would make the painted parts look grubby. He will call a painter friend in Visalia for some advice. 

So, they will figure it out, and I am finished. 

Bye-bye signs. Thank you, TT and TG!

Hume Lake Instead of Mineral King

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Every summer for the past handful of years, I have had the privilege of joining a friend from childhood at her Hume Lake cabin. She brings 2 other friends with her, and now they are part of the fun that I look forward to each summer. This is a different part of the Sierra than our other home in Mineral King, and it is more than just a geographical difference: the cultural differences are stark. This is not a good/bad situation; it is simply a different situation. 

We walk around the lake (3 miles on a well-used trail), rent a water something (rowboat, stand-up paddle board, kayak, canoe), walk among the fancy mountain houses (I can’t really think of these beautiful homes as “cabins”, part of the stark contrast to Mineral King), hear excellent speakers (a Christian camp with good chapel services), reunite with my friend’s cousins (now my friends too), eat too much, laugh until I fall down, talk late into the night, and sleep too little.

The journey this year had this dismal landscape for part of the trip.

The lake and all of Hume escaped last year’s conflagration.

On Saturday evenings after the campers have left, some of the staff race to the end of the dock and fling themselves into the lake. It looks different at different times of day, always picturesque. The dam which creates the lake is highly unusual. It was built in 1908, and the lake was created for transporting logs. My favorite part of the trail is below the dam where it is green green green. Or wait—is my favorite part of the trail where the wild iris bloom?

Or maybe it is at the beginning of the trail. I like the view from the bridge that crosses Ten Mile Creek. We like to walk to the top of the hill, and were blown away by the potential lumber. These folks believe in mechanical thinning, in managing their forest. Could this be why they have escaped the wildfires through the years? The view from Inspiration Point was somewhat obstructed by clouds this year.  And finally, this year our visit coincided with the elusive and magical red mariposa lily! (My friends may have been concerned for my mental balance when I insisted that we look for it, amazed that I spotted it, and puzzled by my enthusiasm, but one of them took this photo for me.)

Odd Job, Chapter 3

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yesterday’s post about refreshing 2 signs left you hanging. I hope the anticipation of today’s continuation didn’t disrupt your sleep last night.

After applying 2 coats of the rim color, some confidence began developing. Time to tackle the narrow yellow line. You can see the old color in the middle; I put a bit of white on the left, and some brighter lightfast yellow on the right.

The yellow needed some red, along with a touch of white.

You might be able to tell that the upper yellow is now better, but since the lightfast yellow is transparent, it needed a primer coat beneath. No need to color fuss here because the goal is to make it look good.

As I painted the narrow line with white, I realized that the wood is quite splintery. This means that getting a smooth edge isn’t going to happen the entire distance on any of the sign. But, it is a sign, not a piece of fine art to be viewed closely.

With the warm weather, swamp cooler blowing, and big doors open, the paint dried quickly. I could paint one sign, turn and do the other, go back to sign #1 for the second coat, and then turn and second coat sign #2.

The white letters seemed like a good next step. These also soaked up the paint and required 2 coats. The rough edges bothered me at first. Then I remembered that this will be viewed from inside people’s cars, until they stop noticing at all. After 5 hours, I felt an unavoidable slide into Idiotland, where Sloppy, Stupid, and Careless all reside. Besides, my cheater-readers kept falling off when I leaned over the sign, and then I painted a blue streak on my face by accident.

So, that’s all on this Three Rivers custom art project for today. The quail and the narrow gray line surrounding the letters will require a strong focus (and a better fitting pair of cheater-reader glasses).

Odd Job, Chapter 2

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Because I am an artist in a small town, I get asked to do a variety of things.

This keeps me growing, learning, and becoming more capable of doing more odd jobs. Still, I start out a little unsure of where to begin and unsure of my abilities to git ‘er dun well.

The outer rim of each sign is a grayish blue, or perhaps a bluish gray. It looked pretty straightforward, both in the mixing and the application. I put these 2 colors together and made the gray on the top of the lid.

You can see that I tried a few versions.

Because my gray had a purplish cast, I put in a smidgeon of yellow, which is opposite purple on the color wheel. (The ArtSpeak word for that is “complementary color”, as in “complete” because its presence completes the 3 primary colors which can be blended to make every color in the world. Not white. White is the absence of color.)

A touch more white, and then it was close enough. 

Clearly I had to be very very careful because Pippin was underfoot.

Let’s continue tomorrow, shall we?

You’re an Artist, So Could You. . .? (Odd Job)

I recently bid on an odd job, one of those that comes to me like this: “You’re an artist, so could you. . .?”

This was a request to repaint 2 large redwood signs, originally sandblasted and painted in 1990.

The neighborhood’s budget didn’t match my bid, so I suggested that they do the scraping and sanding. They did, and then brought me the signs (there are 2 and this one gets the most sun so looks the worst).

Ready to work

Trail Guy set up 2 work tables using sawhorses in our painting workshop. (He doesn’t paint, but the workshop is also his place, so I can’t say “my painting workshop”.)

I set aside the unfinished Mineral King oil paintings that have no deadline in order to get this job done quickly for this Three Rivers neighborhood.

The subdivision asked me to seal the sign for sun damage protection. I know nothing about this. Mixing colors, refreshing tired paint, that’s what I know.

When you don’t know something, ask someone who does. Preferring someone with experience over someone with an opinion, I began thinking of people who might have knowledge to share.

My first contact was an old friend in Massachusetts with a sign business who referred me to someone in Mendocino who was kind enough to email me. I also found a sign company online in Charleston, South Carolina, filled out their contact form, expected and got nothing back. I called the man who sanded the signs to see if he knew who originally made them; he gave me the name and number of someone I worked for briefly back in 1986 (and have encountered several times since because that is the nature of Tulare County). That man gave me the name of a sign company that he thought might have made the signs, but they are going out of business. Their answering machine says to text with any questions, and so far, silence.

Next, I will show you my painting progress and process while I wait to see if Mendosign replies to my specific question about a sealant.

 

Listening, Learning, Thinking, and Applying

This photo is apropos of nothing; I just put it here because I like it. 

Recently I had the privilege of an honest discussion about some blog posts with three wise friends. It made me realize a few things:

  1. Sometimes my posts need an editor. Blog posts are meant to be spontaneous and heartfelt, and a little bit of fun is always welcome. “Blog” comes from “web log”, which is essentially an online journal. And what is journaling if not spontaneous? But when work is public, editing is a good idea. A person can only self-edit so much, so sometimes things don’t sound as intended.
  2. These are the three posts we discussed: 1. Quick Quick can you help us? 2. Did Mineral King Need a Paint Job? and 3. Messing with Other People’s Art. I reworked them a little bit, so if you are curious, reread them, and if inclined, tell me what you think (because I love an honest discussion where I can learn).
  3. Sensitive people will find things to be upset about; blunt people will tell it like they (Ahem, “we”) see it. Neither type is right or wrong; we are simply different.
  4. Listening, learning, thinking, and applying will help prevent us from mowing over, blowing past, or dismissing one another (although that is an easier method in the short run).
  5. Not everything has to be talked about, but when someone you care about is bugged, it is good for the relationship to pay attention.

Phew. I need a cigarette.

JUST KIDDING! NEVER SMOKED, NEVER WILL.

How about a nice picture to wrap this up?

(Heh-heh-heh)

Trail Guy Hikes For Us

Who is “us”? 

You, me, anyone who reads the blog but isn’t retired or on vacation in Mineral King. While I was painting walls inside Three Rivers buildings, Trail Guy went hiking in Mineral King.

He went up toward Timber Gap, and then to Empire, but not to the top, just a loop that gives good views.

While he was there looking at the mountains, I was painting the very same peaks in the Mineral King Room at the Three Rivers Historical Museum.

This is Ranger’s Roost, AKA Mather Point, looking through the timber of Timber Gap. When you are looking at Timber Gap, it is the bump to the left/west. The Mather Party came over Timber and saw Mineral King. I drew the cover in pencil and colored pencil for a book about it, but I haven’t read it. I just look at the pictures. (This was a second edition—the original drawing on the first edition went missing so the publisher commissioned me.)

There were a few flowers: shooting star, Western wallflower, phlox.

This is the rock outcropping on Empire that gives the false impression of being the actual peak. It is a favorite for enjoying alpenglow in the evening light.

Still More Painting in Church

After having the audacity to mess with someone else’s art, I returned to the endless mural at my church. (It would be a real blessing if someone else messed with this one for me.) This blank right side needed to be finished. 

Weird color because the big stage spotlights are on.

I started by defining and filling in the different segments from farthest away to closer (called “planes”, which is a word you might recall from geometry.) Boulders seemed like a good solution. It is better if the two “wings” aren’t symmetrical, which means that they don’t mimic one another. That wouldn’t look natural, as if it is natural to have a giant mural of a fake Sequoia meadow on the stage of a church. (I love Three Rivers, with all our original authentic uniqueness. Sometimes it seems as if we use our location as permission to be mavericks.)

I found a different setting on my camera to show the colors more true. After 5 hours, I dropped off into Idiotland, where I began to get sloppy and stupid. It isn’t good to get sloppy in a place with carpet and painted areas that have no touch-up paint available.

Am I finished?

Maybe, maybe not.

It will probably take a month or two of Sundays before I decide. 

Maybe I just won’t sit where I can see this, and then I won’t pick it apart. It looks fine from this angle.

So there.

I mean “Amen”.

P.S. The drummer gave me a wonderful compliment about the mural extensions. He said they looked so right, so perfectly continued from the rest of the mural that he didn’t notice that they were there.