Mineral King Bridge, Part 3

The drive up the hill provided one of the best views I’ve ever seen of Sawtooth. This California artist misses no opportunities to record paintable scenes!

I arrived at the end of a work day, which means I met about 6 or 8 giant trucks of Park folks. They were all courteous drivers, and we waved as we passed, each one of us correctly on our own side of the very narrow road.

Michael’s commute is the shortest, so he was still at work sorting things out at the site. (Pay no attention to the giant yellow machine on the opposite of the bridge that used to prohibit 4 tons.)

To be continued in a really long entry with lots of photos tomorrow. . .  stay tuned!

The Daily Pomegranate

They’re very good for you. I think they overtook blueberries, but might have now fallen behind green tea or acai berry. Not sure, but they are certainly beautiful, and make great jelly!

Pomegranate 35, oil on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, $40

An afternoon in Sequoia National Park

A pair of friends backpacked from Mineral King to Crescent Meadow. Michael (my husband) brought their van down to Three Rivers, and I drove up to Giant Forest to pick them up 6 days later.

Much has changed in Sequoia National Park over the past 10 or 15 years. I followed Clueless Clive from Illinois for the entire trip up. He was clueless about the fact that if someone catches up to you, she is driving faster than you are. He was clueless about the purpose of turnouts to allow the faster follower to pass.

We waited for 15 minutes at this lovely view spot for the light to turn green.

Light? on the road to The Park? Yep, road work is now a regular part of a trip to The Park, and it includes delays, torn up road, single lane stretches, and no view from Amphitheater Point because it is full of construction equipment.

Then, when the downhill traffic has passed, the light turns green and everyone proceeds in a pack for the rest of the drive.

Despite the delays, I arrived early so I thought I’d just drive out to Crescent Meadow to meet the hikers there, instead of in Giant Forest as previously arranged. Nope. The road is closed on weekends unless you are a bus.

Waiting is rarely a problem for me.

There are huge redwood benches where you can wait for a bus or shuttle, breathe exhaust and cigarette smoke, and listen to idling diesel engines and many languages. The many languages part hasn’t changed. I recognized German, Spanish and Chinese. Okay, I figured out those were the languages, but only recognized specific words in Spanish.

“OSO!” Since I had a close encounter with an “oso” last week, I remained on my giant redwood bench while people ran toward him. (When the oso stepped a foot into my cabin last week, I was less than hospitable toward him, and wasn’t interested in meeting his cousin.)

It was 9/11 and there was a flag at half-mast in front of the Sentinel Tree. This is the same place where I met President Bush #43 in May of 2001. Security was looser then. We were all less worried, and younger and more innocent about bad things happening to good people.

Quite a bit of knitting was accomplished before my friends appeared from one of the shuttle buses. I enjoyed the time without demands, phone, computer, or clocks. A good time was had by all.

Isn’t this a precious father-daughter photo?

Mineral King Bridge, Part 2

Hmmm, I’ve never heard this parking lot referred to as the Franklin Lakes Trail parking lot. Guess those hikers have to park somewhere too.

The project was begun the day after Labor Day, this year. The first order of business was to build a footbridge, which my husband The Road Guy, aptly accomplished with the help of some Trail Crew guys.

See why a footbridge is necessary? The abutments have to be dug out and replaced, one side at a time. Never mind about the giant yellow machine that had to drive across the bridge in order to accomplish this. Of course it doesn’t weigh more than 4 tons. . . right?

The second order of business was to arrange alternative forms of transportation across that bridge, so that folks can get their stuff to their cabins.

There were lots of willing workers, and it was fun to coordinate loads. There is a great camaraderie among cabin folks. There is also great generosity in the loan of several wheeled items to use for the purpose.

Mineral King Bridge

Because Mineral King is one of my main sources of inspiration, and many of my readers love Mineral King, there will be several posts about this bridge project. If you only read the blog for the art, stay tuned, because the project won’t last forever and will only have 1 or 2 entries a week until its completion.

At the end of the road in Mineral King, Sequoia National Park, is a bridge. It spans the currently low and slow flowing East Fork of the Kaweah River. On the other side of the creek (“river”) is a parking lot, trailhead, and a handful of cabins.

A few years ago Federal Highways bridge inspectors came to Mineral King and declared the bridge unsafe. A sign was posted to prohibit any vehicle over 4 tons (8000 lbs) from crossing the bridge. It was shored up with some jacks and I-beams, which were inelegantly covered with tires.  Engineers got involved, plans made and a prefabricated bridge has been purchased to replace the existing bridge.

The bridge is a hang-out place.

The view is incomparable, spectacular, the most photographed view in Mineral King, and possibly within all of Sequoia.

This could be a long story, so stay tuned for the next chapter tomorrow, Same Bat-Time, Same Bat-Channel.

Rural Living

Homer’s Nose, 16×12″, oil on wrapped canvas, $225

As a California artist, it is a little strange to have chosen this rural, central valley for my home. I like living in Tulare County. Sometimes I actually revel in it. Representing the beautiful parts of my home motivate, inspire and give me purpose with my art.

Only once in a blue moon do I wish I lived in or near a city. Here is one of the reasons that it sounds tempting to me:

I Heart Art: Portland — a collaboration between handcrafted retail site Etsy; the Pacific Northwest College of Art and the Museum of Contemporary Craft; and the Portland Etsy street team, a group of local artists who sell on Etsy — had initially planned a series of professional workshops. Instead, a member of the artists’ group suggested a way to hook up makers with sellers.

Just like speed dating, artists rotate on short “dates” with businesses and must make an impression in a short time. Their elevator pitches help determine if their art gains a buyer that night.

“The idea of an elevator pitch is very familiar to the business world,” says Watson, but not so much in the art world. “This whole idea of going to a shop and trying to build a relationship and get an account … was very foreign to a lot of people. It became really apparent to us that we needed to do something like this.”

via I Heart Art: Portland is like speed dating for artists | OregonLive.com.

Can you imagine having so many places to sell and so many working artists that such an event is actually necessary???

Tulare County has about 450,000 people in it. That is a large number, but small enough that I can pick up the phone, call any artist here, state my name, and whether or not we have met, we know of each other and respond with instant friendliness and enthusiasm. Maybe that is a better situation that so many galleries and artist that they are strangers to one another!

List of Random Subjects

Not For Sale. Pencil on Paper. Approximately 5×7″. Currently Untitled.

Today is a list of thoughts for my regular readers. Irregular readers may peek too. (Take that any way you wish.)

  1. Congratulations to Sophie, Leslie, and Kim on winning a prize. They were the first 3 folks to subscribe by email via a new gadget installed by my oh-so-capable web designer. It is under the FEED ON thing on the left. “Feed on?” It is more of that computer talk which takes normal words and makes new meanings, leaving literalists such as myself mumbling to ourselves.
  2. I just chased Bambi off the front porch. Speaking of FEED ON, he is developing a taste for and a dependency on cat food. His mom posed for me at a distance.
  3. A blog I subscribe to called Blogging With Amy explained how to use a new gadget called “Press This”. Why do you care? It is the reason you are seeing quotes from other blogs on my blog. There is so much interesting  and inspirational information out there, and this is a great way to share with others.
  4. I love to blog.
  5. Almost as much as drawing.
  6. Definitely as much as painting.
  7. Oh No. I’m picking up horrible grammar habits from reading too many blog.
  8. Tatting is a dying art; so is spelling correctly and using good grammar.

Thank you. I’m glad we had this little talk. Bambi’s Mom eavesdropped too.

Why I Make Art, A Postscript

Wow, the word “postscript” has 5 consonants in a row.

Today’s post is borrowed from Jon Acuff, who borrowed from Steven Pressfield. I’m not sure of the exact etiquette of this borrowing business but think it is okay if credit and links are provided. This was so timely and so in line with my thoughts that I wanted you to read it too.

It’s hard for me to describe what a gift that book was. I’ve underlined most of it, dog eared page upon page and constantly re-read it. Designed with short, powerful essays on the creative process and the threat of what Pressfield calls “Resistance,” the War of Art is easily one of my favorite books of all time. Here’s a section I really liked:

The Artist’s Life

Are you a born writer? Were you put on earth to be a painter, a scientist, an apostle of peace? In the end the question can only be answered by action. Do it or don’t do it. It may help to think of it this way. If you were meant to cure cancer or write a symphony or crack cold fusion and you don’t do it, you not only hurt yourself, even destroy yourself. You hurt your children. You hurt me. You hurt the planet.

You shame the angels who watch over you and you spite the Almighty, who created you and only you with your unique gifts, for the sole purpose of nudging the human race one millimeter farther along its path back to God. – Steven Pressfield

Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution.

Give us what you’ve got. – Jon Acuff

via A book that changed how I look at creativity. | Jon Acuff’s Blog.

Isn’t that powerful and motivating and guilt-relieving (or inducing if you aren’t doing your thing)?

Why I Make Art, #6

This is the final posting of this series, Why I Make Art. READER WARNING: I will talk about God in this so if it bores/irritates/offends you, skip this post.


I am made in the image of the Creator. He, the Ultimate Creator, created me to be like Him, which includes the desire to create. (No, no, no, I don’t think of myself as Godlike!!)

Clearly I do not have the ability to speak things into existence, nor the ability to make something entirely original. “What was will be again, what happened will happen again. There’s nothing new on this earth. Year after year it’s the same old thing.” Ecclesiastes 1:9-10, The Message

I also do not have the unlimited ability to make millions of variations of the same item, nor endless items.

My work is imitative, derivative,  just a way I have of reflecting back a little glory to God. It is my way of expressing the joy I find in light, shadow, shape, color, texture, scenes, and gratitude for ordinary daily gifts.

(Clearly I am missing the cooler temperatures, brighter colors and higher water of Springtime!)