Radio Silence

We are in the midst of an emergency, so I won’t be posting for a little while. I’m okay and so is Trail Guy, but coping with a difficult situation is taking precedence for the time being.

Thank you for understanding.

I’ll be back. . .

‘splorin’

Three Rivers is a very spread out community with the Middle Fork, South Fork, North Fork and East Forks of the Kaweah River flowing down long canyons. (Yes, I know this is four rivers; I don’t think the town namers were paying full attention).

Trail Guy and I went exploring; we wanted to find a road and see if it connected to another road. (Vague enough for you? Gotta protect privacy. . .) We found the road, but our key didn’t fit the locks, so we kept driving up South Fork. There is a campground that is part of Sequoia National Park at the end, and we hadn’t been there in many years.

The road is terrible. Truly terrible. Rough, rutted, rocky. Unmaintained.

This isn’t the rocky rutted part; it was too messed up to pull over, get out and photograph in those places.
There’s a view of Homer’s Nose that makes it look deceptively accessible.

In the campground is the trail to Garfield Grove, Giant Sequoias 2.9 miles away. And a footbridge, across which is the trail to Ladybug and to Clough’s Cave (with a gate across the opening).

The footbridge was icy. Trail Guy crawled underneath to see if it was the same one he helped build back when the Earth was young.
Brrr, I’m heading to the sunshine.
Good thing I went walking this morning already, because I only want to sit on the tailgate and contemplate things in the sunsine.

We ran into someone we knew from Three Rivers, just home from a yearlong assignment in Macedonia. As we were catching up with him, some people came off the trail, overheard us, and came over to say that one of them got home from Macedonia yesterday. What?? This sort of thing just gobsmacks me. Ever been gobsmacked? It is sort of fun.

Wildflower Book Update

Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names 

This is the title of my next book. “My next book” – What? do you think you are an author? Well, I make books, so maybe I am an author. My books are picture books, so maybe I am an artist who makes books. “Maybe”?

Sigh. It is hard to talk about oneself and sound informative and not self-absorbed.

Wait. I’m not talking about me; I’m talking about my next book.

Fine. Then get on with it, will you?

The design is solidified, finished, stick a fork in it and call it done.

The main blocks of words are the Preface and the Conclusion; both have been sent away for editing.

The cover’s first draft, has been sent to my designer nephew to make sure I haven’t made any gross errors. He said, “The layout is pleasing. It reminds me of some of my old calligraphy and lettering book covers.” I believe it was his polite way of letting me know my sense of style is out of date. I doubt that my customers will notice. They are all older than he is.

Next tasks: buy a bar code, write the back “blurb” (when did “blurb” become a word? AND I continue to puzzle over this most difficult task), rework the parts that have been changed during the editing, refine the cover design (oh boy, this involves downloading a template to use with Photoshop Elements on my old laptop, can’t wait), and finally, send it to the printer for one proof copy.

Work That Doesn’t Feel Like Work

In my normally slow month of December, I finally had the chance to work on my upcoming book Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names.

It seems to be cooking along just fine, and then something goes wackadoodle with InDesign or the template ceases to do its templatish magic or it takes hours and hours to resize all the photos to the same effective PPI (you’d really rather not know) or some of the photos get corrupted and I have to keep moving the flashdrive back and forth between the 2 laptops or I realize the title page simply says “MK Wildflowers” instead of Mineral King Wildflowers . . .

You get the idea.

One morning I worked about 10 minutes on it and suddenly it was lunchtime. Then I put in about another 1/2 hour and it was dark out. Then another 10 minutes and it was 9 p.m. So, you see this is an engrossing and enjoyable project.

The worst part will be writing the blurb on the back. Have you ever tried writing about yourself? Don’t, if you are able to avoid it.

The plan is to have it in hand in April so I can do a book signing in the Mineral King Room at the Three Rivers Historical Museum before the Redbud Festival when people are in a wildflower state of mind. (Have you ever been in a wildflower state of mind? It might just be an idiosyncratic trait of this Central California artist.)

Working & Wondering

A view from a home in Three Rivers that I will be drawing soon.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s Day has always felt like a freebie to me. I don’t work much, but spend time thinking about the previous year (did I actually do anything noteworthy?) and about the upcoming year (do I look as if I have a plan?).

Last week I thought about blogging, marketing, what to paint, what to draw, the 2020 calendar, and mostly about the upcoming book, Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names.  I wondered how I got selected as the Best Artist in Three Rivers in 2018 and didn’t know it.

I made lists, calculated a year’s worth of mileage on my car, vacuumed the studio, called Huge & Rude (the telephone company) because the internet isn’t working very well (what’s new about that?), rehung paintings in the studio from Anne Lang’s Emporium (now closed), updated lists of available paintings, delivered paintings to the Mural Gallery in Exeter, put new art on the website, and generally wondered about my art business.

Where will I sell my work? What shall I paint? Is there a way to draw more? Is there a reason to draw more? How do I tap into those thousands of people blowing through town on their way to Sequoia National Park? Should I hire someone to teach me how to reach a wider market? Are little boutiques the right place for my work? If not, where is? How do I find more customers? Do I post to my blog too often? Why do so many people not even know what a blog is? Do I have to join the dreaded Facebook? Will this be the year I have to get a cell phone? Should I get my good camera repaired? Should I buy a better small camera? Who’s on first?

I often wonder about my art business, in case you were wondering.

Things I Learned in 2018

Happy New Year! 

My wildly resourceful Christmas wrap, symbolic of my gifts of learning to you each month.

Do you like those end of the year round-up lists? Here’s one for you, almost entirely made up of links to previous posts. (Each one will open in a new tab.) We remember the things we review, so let’s go. . .

  1. 11 Things I Learned in January
  2. 8 Things I Learned in February
  3. 8 Things I Learned in March
  4. 6 Things I Learned in April
  5. 8 Things I Learned in May
  6. 7 Things I Learned in June
  7. 7 Things I Learned in July
  8. 8 Things I Learned in August
  9. 8 Things I Learned in September
  10. 7 Things I Learned in October
  11. 6 Things I Learned in November

We have documentation of 84 new things learned in 2018. (and probably 1/2 of them already forgotten). Here are 3 more from December (much of what I learned this month isn’t worth sharing publicly).

  1. You can find a doctor online and have him call a prescription into your local drug store! What? I had no idea, and don’t know how to do this, but it is good to know, and I know who to ask for more details.
  2. Green tomato pie is not worth making unless you have no apples; if you insist on making it, 1-1/2 cups of sugar is too much.
  3. Frost-on-the-Pumpkin pie is worth making if you don’t mind 2 sessions in the kitchen and using every bowl you possess.

Here is a mystery for you to contemplate. (This is like my nieces and nephews on Instagram, posting photos that cause nothing but questions. Aren’t I modern?)

I wish you a year of learning in 2019!

Now I will be quiet for a week. Fret not, I’ll be back.

Painting a Poinsettia

After showing you the poinsettia painting, I discovered the photos of it in progress on my camera. (Camera?? Yep. Not a phone.)

Not sure why I had these available because I mostly ignored them.

2 photos, looking at them a little, but it doesn’t matter if I don’t get it right.

Painting back to front, making things up, check with the real plant to see if it passes.

Almost finished.

It took about a week to dry before I could incorporate it into my fakey Instagram life photo.

This is my best attempt at having an Instagram type of life. Too bad about that bead thing hanging in front of the photo in back.

This is what my real life looks like.

Scout and Tucker are not invited into the house.

These guys are not invited into the house either.

This dude is really bright.

But what’s up with the neckties?

Finished

A little unfinished business here on The Blog: finished pieces you haven’t yet seen in their official photographic documented form.

This little 8×8″ oil painting is titled “My Geraniums”, because it is my geraniums, although they are actually pelargoniums, (but I’m guessing no one cares). Anyway, this is hanging in my kitchen. Ever listen to Bruce Williams on the radio? He used to say, “Everything is for sale if the price is right”, and I guess if you really really like this, you may offer a high price which I may consider. Otherwise, it remains mine.

This is a commissioned pencil drawing of a Silver City cabin, a Christmas surprise which I could only tell you about but not show you. Christmas 2018 is now history, and this drawing was given and received. Hence, you get to see it now. (“Hence”? Who uses that word? The Central California blogging artist, that’s who, but only while blogging.)

Sometimes I draw simply because I can, want to, and love to draw. Besides, it is always good to keep up the practice and to keep up my inventory. This is 9×12″, unframed. It could be for sale. . . And yes, it is the Honeymoon Cabin, a little one room museum in Mineral King.

Normally it takes about 10 minutes for me to decorate for Christmas. This year it took several days, because oil paint dries very slowly. This little 8×8″painting was begun to demonstrate some techniques for the secret oil painting workshop; I brought it home and finished it because I realized my decorating efforts could use a boost. I could have photographed it in the entryway of my house, but that feels like a fakey Instagram sort of thing to do. Fakey isn’t my style, as you may have discerned (although occasionally my vocabulary gets a little stuffy).

This finally feels finished. It was dry enough to photograph on a sunny day. Still mulling over a good title – Citrus Queue, perhaps? It is 18×6″, $175.