March: Long Month, Learning and Thoughts

THOUGHTS

1. Mike Rowe’s podcast, The Way I Heard It, is a great source of learning. In relistening to episode 271, an interview with Michael Shellenberger, I thought Shellenberger was stealing my thoughts. He said he drives a 2002 Honda Accord because he loves it, he is cheap, and dumping all that steel and other material to get some modestly better fuel efficiency just isn’t worth it. Amen, brother!! (My car beat his by 6 years, but since the interview was recorded in 2022, I don’t know if he is still driving his Accord.

2. Food for thought from Eric Rhoads (the one in charge of my week of plein air painting in Monterey): “Most of us complain about not having enough time while simultaneously binge-watching entire seasons of shows we don’t even particularly enjoy. The paradox of modern existence is that we have more free time than any humans in history, yet feel more time-starved than ever. Perhaps the answer lies not in having more time, but in living more fully in the time we have — in choosing experiences over possessions, creation over consumption, and presence over distraction.”

3. I thought about all the unique parts of March: the only month with a command—MARCH FO[U]RTH!, Pi Day —3.14, Ides (whatever that means) –March 15, St. Patrick’s Day—March 17, the first day of spring, in some years Easter, and in all years both of my sisters’ birthdays.

LEARNINGS

1. “All frills and no knickers” is the British way of saying “Big hat, no cattle”. How did I learn this? From Sandra Busby’s blog. She is a fantabulous fantastical painter. (Wish I could take lessons from her!)

2. “Cavil” —a verb: to quibble; to argue or find fault over trivial matters.

3. Grated avocado seed in 70% alcohol is a topical pain reliever. . . maybe. My DeQuervain tenosynovitis might be slightly better since using this, but it might have gotten better on its own anyway (Been plaguing me since October) Or, it could only be wishful thinking. A person can adjust to a certain level of steady pain. (I’d rather not, but as a resident of Realville, I can accept this truth.)

Avocado, oil painting, 6×6”, private collection

4. James Clear is a wise man. A friend gave me his book Atomic Habits, and I subscribe to his weekly newsletter. This was in last week’s:

“Take all the energy you spend on… worrying about the future, worrying about what others think, worrying about if you might fail… and channel that energy into one useful action within your control.

5. I read a lot, both fiction and non-fiction. Fiction is a great escape, but I am tired of adultery being normalized, bodies in trunks, and people who do blatantly stupid things (which of course is what makes the stories). I went searching, and for the first time in my life, I found a series of “Christian fiction” books that I really liked. Prolly won’t resonate with you all, but just in case you like that genre (or like me, have always disliked it), the author is Neta Jackson. (For the series to better make sense, start with The Yada Yada Prayer Group—see? you who didn’t abandon this paragraph at the word “adultery” or at the word “Christian” will probably jump ship at “prayer”.)

6. I learned to shorten palm trees on a pencil drawing using Photoshop Jr. The customer requested this—I just work here.

And that’s all, folks.

See you tomorrow as we work through the list of improvements needed on the unusual commissioned oil painting.

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KC!

A Day Off in the Life of a Frugal Artist

Yeppers, it is April First, but as unusual as this post is, it is entirely sincere.

Your Central California artist lives a very frugal life. Last Friday I became aware (yet again) that frugality is just automatic, built into my DNA perhaps. Have a look at the stuff that fills my days off and brings me great satisfaction.

Gardening

Trail Guy made the top rack from old mule shoes and the bottom one from the head of a garden rake. Most of these tools are second-hand.

The daffodil bulbs were bought in January, when they were greatly discounted; the bearded iris were a gift from a friend who was thinning hers; the dutch iris was probably a bulb on sale and seems to be the last one standing.

Sewing

Many years ago, I bought a tablecloth to make valances for my kitchen windows. When I washed them last week, they disintegrated. The rest of the tablecloth was in a closet, waiting to be turned into replacements. This time they aren’t very ruffled, because there wasn’t quite enough fabric. (Nobody cares.)

About 15 years ago I stocked up on the jeans that fit me best, which meant they all expired at the same time. I tried iron patches (wouldn’t stick), sewn on patches (ugly, but worked until the pants wore out above and below the patches), and made cut-offs from a few pair. Then I saw a picture on my favorite blog (The Frugal Girl) of several things you can do with old jeans. Since it rained last Saturday, and since my sewing machine* was set up, I made this ridiculous apron! (not finished in this photo).

It isn’t very frugal to use time and electricity to sew something that I don’t need, but I can’t stand waste. (or fraud or abuse, but that isn’t what we are discussing here.)

More Gardening

My broccoli crop was pathetic this year: look at the yield from 5 plants:

After I “harvested” the heads in the colander, I ignored the plants for a few more weeks. When it was time to yank them, I was able to get another small handful. These are good chopped up in scrambled eggs. Yea us, eating fresh vegetables. (I’d rather have ice cream, but not in my scrambled eggs.)

Then I planted the basil that rooted in the kitchen window sill all winter, taken from cuttings off last year’s basil. It’s kind of sorry-looking but as with all my gardening, it is another triumph of hope over experience. I started with 6-7 plants, but some croaked when transplanted.

Others broke when I was putting them in the planting bed, so of course I moved them back to little bottles of water on the window sill.

Those bottles initially contained Trader Joe’s balsamic vinegar. I pried the pouring cork/plugs from them, and they are perfect for this purpose—cute, small mouth, and no lid to keep track of. Good thing I didn’t learn that Trader Joe’s adds sugar to its balsamic vinegar until I had a nice collection of these.

Among my friends, this sort of thing is normal. My closest friends choose to go for walks together, not go out to lunch. We get a kick out of figuring out how to do things, telling one another how we saved money, and sharing extra stuff, whether it is garden plants, fabric, produce, baking, items bought on sale, or ideas.

How are you frugal? Is this normal for you too?

*A Singer Featherweight, made in 1959, a gift from my grandmother. The plastic handle did not go the distance, so Trail Guy replaced it with a chain.

Working Through the List on the Commissioned Oil Painting

And writing the longest blog title ever.

Does this look finished to you? It’s not. When I was driving home a few evenings ago, I really studied the way the ridges change color as they recede into the distance.

So, I messed with them again. The differences are subtle, and now that I see it on my screen, I think it might even want a bit more adjusting. (The painting that never gets finished. . .)

Now there are oranges on the trees.

The blossoms popped out on the trees, and there are a few added in the border embellishment.

Now the smudgepot has been refined, the ground is lighter, the fallen oranges are a bit more visible, and there are two more smudgepots in the far distance, too small to see in this photo.

All that remains is a wind machine.

Maybe.

This is representative of Tulare County’s best features, according to me. The weird part is that I compiled the original pencil drawing using photos taken in Lemon Cove and Pauma Valley (in Sandy Eggo County.) I’m not showing you the pencil drawing again in case you are going to tell me all the ways I didn’t match it exactly.

Some People Dislike Mondays

I’m not one of those people. The only day I don’t like is any day I have to go down the hill. But I only dislike the day while I am fixin’ to leave, because in spring, the drive is beautiful. Going down with a list of stops doesn’t make me happy, so I try to remember that it is fun to drive Fernando, that there are all sorts of good options for listening or a good chance to just have quiet, and that it is a real privilege to have a car, options, money to pay for gas and the various items to be accumulated while down the hill. (I’ve been a recovering pessimist for decades). Of course I am happiest when I am heading back up the hill, especially in the early evening with late sunlight on the hills and mountains.

In case you are one of those folks who dislike Mondays, here are some wildflower photos for you, taken in my neighborhood last Wednesday. (See why I dislike leaving home?)

We can do the Learned List tomorrow, if I can remember anything new learned in March.

Layering, Layering, Layering, Layering Some More.

The sky was bugging me, not just because of the uneven brush strokes. It seemed to be the wrong color.

So, I repainted it. Yeppers, better.

Those hills don’t look far enough away.

So, I lightened them and made them duller in color. (a little shiny-wet here)

Then I redid the dirt and the trees.

Prolly doesn’t make much difference from your point of view.

Now I have a list of 12 more things to fix, repair, repaint, relayer, re-detail. My patient customer said she’d like it in April, but didn’t specify a date.

Painting Lots of Orange Things

When you look at my painting subjects, you might guess that orange is my favorite color. You’d be wrong. However, orange things are among my favorite things (not raindrops on roses).

The poppy painting is on the easel for consideration and contemplation. How can I make it better? Does it need to be made better? I have an idea for the first question, and the answer to the second question is “Maybe”.

The lemon isn’t orange. Well, duh. The Mural Gallery just sold a little lemon painting so I am painting a new one.

The larger commissioned painting is getting close to completion; the poppy painting is new, and the lemon needs an orange to go with it for the Mural Gallery.

The orange painting is going quickly; the poppy painting is a little more difficult.

It’s from a photo I took up the North Fork of the Kaweah River a handful of years ago. I am not trying to copy every poppy exactly; ain’t nobody got time for that. Besides, nobody cares.

I think this is going to be a good one. My goal is to get it to Kaweah Arts in time for the studio tour on the weekend. It is a county wide studio tour. I’m not participating but am supporting Kaweah Arts in their efforts to draw many people in.

More Spring in Three Rivers

The lavender started blooming early this year. That isn’t a real lawn; it is mowed weeds that dry out when the rain quits and the heat begins.

The Middle Fork of the mighty Kaweah River, looking downstream and upstream. The white-water is a little less than bright white because of the rain. (Ain’t nobody here complainin’ ‘bout that rain!)

Man oh man, I love me some green!

I was pulling weeds in the yard and heard (teehee, almost wrote “herd”) some funny sounds. These deer were eating weeds mere feet from me, chewing kind of loudly.

The first blue dicks, also known as brodaeia (can’t spell it, gave up trying), with an intense bush lupine behind. This is not in my yard.

Hi Pippin. You are the cutest cat, even if you have an entitlement attitude.

New Little Oil Paintings

This is the little studio where I draw, not the room where I paint.

Jackson took my chair.

This is the room where I paint, called the workshop.

Two little poppy paintings, drying for Stem & Stone, a new gift shop in Three Rivers.

One little sequoia, also drying for the new shop.

Jackson joined me in the workshop because that is also the cat’s home/cafeteria.

Drawing Workshop

Upcoming!

Besides loving to draw, it makes me happy to help other people learn to draw. A friend named Anne Brown has been asking me for many years to give a workshop up here, and since she offered to host it and for whatever reason I now have some time, (OH, because I’m not preparing for a solo show since I still have paintings from the last solo show, phooey but yea), we scheduled this drawing workshop.

Because I Felt Like Drawing

In 1990, I drew the Exeter Woman’s Club. (Yes, that is the correct name—I just work here.) It was part of a set of notecards called Tulare County Landmarks. No one can find the original drawing. All I have is this scan of a notecard with a hole punched in the corner.

The club asked to use the drawing, and had an old scan or some other format, not really up to my standards. But I didn’t mind and gave my permission. (It is rare that people know the copyright law which is that the artist holds the copyright, so I was impressed and thankful that they asked.)

They are celebrating a big anniversary (100 years?) and plan to publish a cookbook. The president of the club and I are longtime friends, and we began discussing the cover of the cookbook. I couldn’t stand the idea of a shoddy reproduction of my old drawing (not that it was great 35 years ago), so my friend went spelunking, unsuccessfully, in all sorts of places trying to locate the drawing.

Because I hit a slow time (feast or famine in the art business), I asked her to send me a photograph so that I could draw it again. She complied, and I dove in immediately on a rainy day.

Before finishing, I scanned it without a background, since that is how I drew it 30 years ago.

Then I drew in a dramatic background and scanned it again.

My friend asked me to make a couple of adjustments, which were easy to do. Here it is in its final form. After growing the new shrubs into a hedge with my pencils, I photoshopped the palm trees because of a strange request to shorten them by 1/4”. (As I said earlier, I just work here.)

I love to draw (But don’t ask me for a freebie, okay?)

P.S. My friend did NOT ask for a freebie—I offered. She did ask for some modifications, and I happily complied.