A Day of Painting Sawtooths*

Two Sawtooth paintings on my easels, yellow-lidded palette thawing from its overnight storage in the freezer. Next a decision to begin with the skies, so the tall painting needed to be flipped. And since sky was the first color, I added in the tiny (6×6”) classic Mineral King painting to the day’s tasks.

I flipped it over because otherwise I’d need to stand on a ladder to reach the upper parts of this 24×30” painting. While it was accessible, I worked on Sawtooth.

And since the right colors were on the palette, I painted Sawtooth on the 12×24” canvas.

Then since the colors of Sawtooth were a good blend for trail dust, I flipped the painting and hit the trail.

Moving forward on the painting, I mixed up distant forest colors and got those trees covered.

Obviously the next step was to take care of the distant evergreens on the larger painting, which I was able to reach right-side-up.

Next, I photographed my studio door for reference. It is a little unusual for me to be using a mural instead of photographs. However, I used this door, a stack of photos, and mostly just painted from my mind. This is a new approach, but after painting Sawtooth a minimum of 64 times, I should be able to figure out how to paint it from memory. (I am not exaggerating the number of times I’ve painted Sawtooth.)

It’s a little tricky to see any changes among the first three photos, but I was very diligent about photographing the progression. By the end of the day, I was sitting down (because my feet told me to) and began “drawing with my paintbrush”. (That’s what the ArtWorld snobs call it when a painter gets obsessed with detail—maybe because they don’t have that skill. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. They’re just jealous. So there.)

You can tell that I sort of forgot about the 12×24” canvas. These are both quite challenging, because I am not following a specific photo to create a specific view. Instead, I’m wanting to create paintings that summarize the feeling and memories that someone has after walking up the Nature Trail in Mineral King. I’m painting two different shapes so there are choices for customers.

*Sawtooth is a mountain that is visible from Visalia. Two paintings of Sawtooth would be “Sawtooths”, not “Sawteeth”. Any questions?

And Another Productive Day!

This looked like a full day of painting ahead. If I could knock these out, it would be a productive day.

Let’s go! I knocked out the wildflowers on the 8×10” Sawtooth painting first.

Actually, this didn’t look too hard. It needed some fencing and cows and of course, wildflowers, which are just colored dots in this type of painting. And it is so small here on the computer that you can’t see many of those details. Trust me. It looks better in person. Duh.

Easy peasy. Let’s go to the beach next. Wow, this one went quickly. Finishing with details is the best part of painting.

I took a brief break to scan a dry painting in the studio and was just slayed by the perfection of these lemon geraniums blooming by the studio and flowing over the wall. You should smell these!

Finally, I tackled this trail in Mineral King on a 8×8” canvas. It isn’t finished, but I signed it because I was able to scratch my name into the wet paint.

Finished all three plus an additional 8×8”, AND met with the customer about designing her ranch map. I need a week of these productive days, quickety quick before it gets too hot to paint.

Such a Productive Day

And about time after so many days of messing around in my yard, other people’s yards, and driving around Three Rivers. I painted all day. It was kind of hot and there were mosquitos. I painted anyway. This is how it is when an artist messes around and then sells seven paintings in two weeks with a solo show coming.

This needed more light. So I said, “Let there be light.”

This also needed more light. Not sure I achieved it yet.

This simply needed another layer, and then I’ll wait for it all to dry again so I can add wildflowers. Of course I’m adding wildflowers. Did you doubt me? (I tried, but it was too wet.)

This needed to be painted start to finish. That’s a little ambitious for a 10×20” canvas, but I was on a roll. I cobbled the scene together from several photos taken when things were still green. When this is dry, I’ll add fences, gates, loading chutes perhaps, and of course cattle. Maybe a few wildflowers.

And this painting is to fulfill the part of the show title* “. . . and Sometimes a Little Farther”. I don’t remember which beach this is. I have many photos of many California beaches, but haven’t painted them yet other than my plein air week in Monterey last October.

You should see the enormous number of brushes I had to wash when the day ended.

*Around Here and Sometimes a Little Farther, at the Tulare Historical Museum/Heritage Gallery in August.

Spoken-for Sequoia

The spoken-for, in-progress Sequoia painting jumped to the top of the queue. Here you can see it in steps to completion.

The light was wrong in the afternoon so I moved the easel to the opposite side of the table. When the painting was finished, I had to flip it upside down to paint the bottom edge.

Because it will be leaving before it is dry enough to scan, I photographed it carefully while upside down in the painting workshop in various lighting. Then I went to work on making the color correct on the computer screen while studying the wet painting in front of me.

I have 2 versions, neither of which really do the painting justice. However, remember that everything looks better in real life (except celebrities).

Sequoia Gigantea IXX, 6×18”, sold

Now it is time to start another one, because my local representatives need me to keep them supplied. This is classic Tulare County art; it is a privilege to be able to see these trees in person and paint them for the visitors (and former residents) of Three Rivers, the true gateway to Sequoia National Park.

A Cover-up

Shall we call this Paint-gate? I bet people under 50 years of age don’t understand why every political scandal and cover-up has “gate” attached to the end.

This cover-up isn’t scandalous. A friend gave me a 24×30” canvas with an unfinished painting that her daughter did in college. Out of respect for my friend, I haven’t shown you the painting.

It is a dark painting, literally, in terms of colors. I can’t tell if the subject matter is dark, figuratively speaking. It IS weird, one of those nebulous assignments that college art teachers love to hand out, hoping to stimulate creativity.

Sorry Teach, those assignments only incite panic and bizarreness. Why don’t you focus on teaching your students some useful skills? Creativity comes with time and life experience, not with vague, ludicrous prompts like, “Design a container for air” or “depict transparency”. Stop the unhelpful weirdness and just show people HOW TO PAINT.

Ahem. Where were we?

Placement first.

I couldn’t reach the sky and Sawtooth so I flipped the canvas.

I worked forward, and then dropped down to the trail.

Just a little here and a little there while watching the clock because I had to be somewhere. It’s hard to do good work when thinking about time; the part of our brains that recognizes shapes and colors doesn’t know how to tell time. Sounds ridiculous, but I know this because all my drawing students tell me that the one hour that they are drawing is the fastest hour of the week.

The trail looks as if it is made from crushed oyster shells, not something you’d find in Mineral King.

Clearly, this cover-up will be a long project. I’m not used to painting this large. I have to keep squeezing out more paint. Duh. I also have to remember to use the largest brushes possible for each area, because this needs to be finished and dry in time for the solo show in August. Sure, there is time, but the workshop is not a pleasant place to paint when it is hot.

An Unusual Job in Three Rivers

Some folks in Three Rivers with a horse-breeding ranch asked me to turn their hand-scratched map into a thing of beauty. It doesn’t need to be to-scale, but all the pastures, corrals, gates, arenas, barns, ponds, and various buildings need to be in proper relation to one another.

This necessitated a walk around the place, which was very appealing in spite of the green turning to yellow.

I pulled out my inferior phone camera to gather a sense of the place and to see if inspiration and ideas would emerge.

Hmmm, this is an unusual assignment, perhaps even an odd job, for some folks who are very delightful and easy to work with. I’m thinking of drawing the map lightly in pencil, getting it okayed by the customers, then inking in the lines. After that, I might add some pencil drawings around the edges, because as you know, I love to draw. I’ll do it twice the size of 8-1/2 x 11”, and then they can print out as many maps as they need to direct customers and workers around the property.

This will be a fun job, no real rules, just freedom to turn this into whatever I want. If the customers like it, they’ll get it framed. (The walls in their house are full of art, so they might have to put it in a barn!)

Mineral King Road

For many years, there has been talk of repairing the Mineral King road. Talk talk talk, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. Surveys, public meetings, emails. Fires, floods, emergency repairs, road closures.

Finally, the work has begun. The road won’t be open to the public until the Wednesday before Memorial Day weekend, and there is a very rigid schedule about when you can pass through the work zone and when you will have to just wait.

I was happy to see all the green and the wildflowers, along with the reassurance that the temporary bridge made it through the winter. (I’m always relieved to see the sign on the way back home too, because if it is temporary, maybe it will vanish while we are up the hill.)

Here’s my old friend the Oak Grove Bridge. During all the public meetings about the road, it was voted to simply repair the bridge. Then Those Who Know More determined that it isn’t repairable and there is talk of converting this bridge to a foot bridge and putting a new driving bridge upstream. I don’t expect this to happen in my lifetime. This is on the county portion of the road, and the construction is only on Sequoia National Park’s portion, ending about 4 miles below the end of the road. Yeppers, the very rough upper dirt portions will remain and the threatened fancy-pants parking lots aren’t part of the plan.

That’s Case Mountain over there. It is very green, and there are new roads carved in because of the wildfire last fall.

This is Squirrel Creek, just above the Sweet Ranch and below the park boundary, now with a mysterious road-construction-generated load of rocks by the turnout.

We pulled over to wait for the pilot car, and enjoyed some wildflowers and a view.

This is looking back at the road, still green. The wildfires (in 2020, 2021, 2024) required much brush clearing so it is a lot easier to see traffic ahead now. (Looking for a silver lining. . .)

Because Mineral King isn’t open to the public just yet, I didn’t want to rub it in that cabin folks can go. Right now it is rather colorless, because the green is barely beginning and there is a lot of snow. Here is the classic view from the bridge on the way out, which was a bit of a hustle in order to meet the pilot car*.

We got to the waiting area (just above Slapjack) with enough time to see some harlequin lupine.

It is going to be a summer of disruption, waits in the sun, and a much longer drive to Mineral King. (We left home at 8:30 and arrived at the cabin at 11:30. . . sing with me “a three hour tour, a three hour tour”)

*Someone reported being 10 minutes late to the pilot car area and he had to wait 3 hours for the next pass-through time. Do not mess with these construction workers and their schedule!

What a Week!

I finally had a couple of hours to put my paintings back after surveying them for the upcoming solo show, “Around Here and Sometimes a Little Farther” in August.

Once again, I was so pleased with my little studio where I draw and display art that I took some more photos.

A friend/former neighbor was staying in the vacation rental across the street and requested a look into my studio. Since he reads my blog, he knew that it was in disarray so he waited until I let him know that order had been restored. He walked over for a visit (with Mabel, a Pembroke Welsh corgi), and I first showed him the workshop where I paint. He asked a few questions, and then wondered if I would paint a giant Sequoia for him.

But of course!

I told him he could have the incomplete one on the easel, and I’d even box it up and send it home with him wet. He agreed (with the understanding that I’d finish it first).

We moved into the studio, where he selected 3 more paintings.

I told him that isn’t why I invited him to see the studio and he responded that it is why he wanted to see it.

So I carried the 3 paintings over to his place because he needed to keep Mabel on her leash (she was getting used to the turkeys so he needed to be ready for who knew what might happen.) I propped them on the sofa table and photographed them to show you.

What a week! A visit with my longtime friend, finding a print for someone, selling some paintings, two dogs visiting my workplace. . . but wait! There’s more!

Tell you next time. . .

An Old Drawing Reappears

Someone I’ve never met called and actually left a message. I returned the call to learn about someone (Let’s call her AF) who bought an old home and had seen a pencil drawing of the house. The seller was supposed to leave it behind, but took it away. AF had the foresight to take a photo of the drawing, and then she sleuthed around until she found me.

It took a bit of conversation until I figured out what house she was speaking of. She was hoping to be able to buy a print of the house, but when she told me it had the date of 1995, I told her that I didn’t even own a computer back then, much less a scanner.

However, sometimes when I have prints made, I keep one in my flat files. I told AF that there was a possibility that I had one.

The bottom drawer of my flat files is very hard to open, so I rarely fight it and as a result, don’t know what it contains. But the label indicated it might contain the desired print, so I wrestled it open.

AHA!! EUREKA!! Here it is!!

I couldn’t get the drawer to go back in so I made like a snake and bellied up to peek inside. Look what was shoved behind that bottom drawer! I had occasionally wondered where these drawings were, but as someone who loses things regularly, I had other missing things to occupy me.

I called AF to let her know I found the print. She was quite excited, as was I. Before packaging it up for her, I scanned it for you.

I remembered that the customer had only the bottom portion turned into notecards, and just two weeks prior, one of my drawing students brought one to me that he found in his mother-in-law’s stacks of stuff. (Weird.)

Turns out, that card was the drawing that AF had seen at the house, and she had no idea that the drawing was an intricate collage of many parts. She has connected with my original customer and will get an explanation of everything included. (Obviously I drew this before instigating the rule of No Faces Smaller Than An Egg.)

I love it when things turn out like this, with the added bonus of finding missing items for myself too. (Who cares if I talked myself out of a drawing commission? That’s not as important as actually helping someone.)

Back to Work, Party’s Over

What party? Glad you asked! The party of one and sometimes two—goofing off, yardening, exploring, and basically not producing any art.

When we got home from exploring up South Fork, there was a serious distraction. Our neighbor’s beagle followed her nose and found her way to our cat feeding area in the workshop (same room where I paint). Apparently old beagles don’t lose their instinct to follow their noses even when they haven’t had the opportunity to do so in many years. I carried her toward her home and was grateful that one of her humans met me part way because she is solid, very heavy and wiggly too.

Finally, I started working.

First, two new large (for me) Sawtooth paintings. One is the scene from the door of my studio. I tried to start it outside, but Pippin kept wanting to participate, so I took a photo of the door to work from. (It wasn’t helpful.) The color is weird because I used my inferior camera phone, since my camera battery was on the charger.

I realize that the proportions are different on the recycled 24×30” canvas, but it doesn’t matter. I can make up this scene, but I will refer to a handful of photos. This will take many layers to cover the previous painting, done by a friend’s daughter as a college assignment.

Might as well begin the horizontal version (12×24”? 10×20”?)

Ultimately, I finished one, started two, and puttered around on four.