Five of these pencil drawings sold at my solo show in Tulare, “Around Here (and Sometimes a Little Farther)”. The others were pencil commissions, which I showed you with all the slow developments in painstaking detail.
I love pencil. Did you know that?
Thus we conclude another post about the business of art, because. . .
These “Sold” posts are mostly to reassure myself that I’m not just drawing and painting for the fun of it. They serve a secondary purpose in reminding my tens of readers that I accept commissions (lest you think I am a prima donna who only creates what I “feel like” creating) and that I do sell my work (lest you think I just prefer to cover my walls with my own art.)
Most of these sold at the Silver City Store, four miles below Mineral King. The sequoia paintings mostly sold at both of the stores which sell for me in Three Rivers (Kaweah Arts and Stem & Stone). One sequoia painting was a commissioned piece for a long time friend and customer, and another was to some new friends/customers.
If it weren’t for all those folks passing through town on their way to Sequoia National Park, I’d be sure that only my friends and relatives buy from me. It is thrilling when a stranger likes my art enough to part with their hard-earned pieces of green paper with dead presidents’ faces on them.
Tomorrow I’ll show you all the pencil drawings that sold. You’ve seen most of them already, so it will be reruns for you.
The plan was to finish the 10×30” commissioned oil painting of the two redwood trees. When I set up in the painting workshop, it looked too hard and too big and too daunting. So I indulged in some productive procrastination, opting instead to finish the plein air painting of the pumpkin field.
This meant that I added a few blossoms, detailed some foreground leaves, and signed the painting. Since it is too wet to scan, here is the photograph, which include shiny spots.
No, no, no, REALLY, it looks so much better in person! And it might be a bad idea to title it “Pumpkin Patch” since no pumpkins are visible. Besides, Mrs. Texas and I thought it was a field of summer squash for a few months.
Never mind. Let’s return to our twin redwoods, Sequoia Sisters, Sequoia Siblings, Aunt Tillie & Uncle Pete, Two Sisters. The last title is the real one, because my boss chose it. Who is my boss? Mrs. Customer, of course!
The upper mid section of greenery and trunk was lacking in detail. Mrs. Customer also requested to see some flowing water into the trough, along with a few wildflowers.
The water really flummoxed me because it flows in a little ravine, not right at the surface where it is visible. So, on the way up the hill recently, the idea of a waterfall came to me. On the way down the hill, we did a drive-by shooting of the waterfall. I’ve circled it and messed with the contrast so you can get an idea of what I am working with.
First, I had to paint out the fake-looking stream that I put down in order to force myself to address the issue. Buh-bye, little fake stream. You can see that there are boulders indicating a stream flowing into the trough. However, there isn’t room for a believable waterfall.
Oops, too small to see. Here is a close-up of the bottom left corner.
Allrighty then, let the water fall, and let the lupine bloom!
Will Mrs. Customer approve? (I signed it anyway. . . always hoping for the best.)
Why two photos of the (hopefully) finished commissioned oil painting? Because I photographed one with my inferior phone camera and one with my little Canon Elph, which probably is also inferior compared to most people’s phones. This will be an enormous challenge to photograph. When it is dry, I’ll tackle that aspect of the job. Or, more accurately, after Mrs. Customer is pleased and it is dry, then I will take on that challenge.
P.S. I like this painting a lot. Thank you, Mrs. Customer for commissioning a subject that I’ve never done for some odd reason!
The weekend began with a surprise visit by a childhood friend. I knew she might be coming in the fall, but so many people tell me their potential visit dates that I don’t even try to keep track. That meant it was a wonderful surprise, and I got to spend an hour or so with her and her offspring. Since this is the World Wide Web, and because I want to experience and value life even when it isn’t documented and publicized, I took no photos (except for asking her daughter to take one of us together, which I HOPE her mom will send to me!)
The road construction continues. We waited just below Wolverton Point for about 45 minutes for the 10 o’clock pilot car shuttle which we followed to Silver City. SEE THE NEW SCHEDULE BELOW.
A neighboring cabin had 8-10 hazard trees threatening their place. We went snooping, and all is safe now (but the cabin is exposed), and there is a boatload of downed wood, a real mess. Here is how part of it looked as drawn for The Cabins of Mineral King and how it looks now in real life.
It rained several times and was overcast. We did not hike. People who live in Mineral King just hang out sometimes. Instead of being on vacation, we are simply experiencing cabin life.
We thoroughly enjoyed the warmth from the wood stove, trying but not succeeding to keep a fire going all day. That stove wants feeding fairly often. I would have split more wood, but we kept covering the woodstack due to the rain.
We walked to the pack station and found an enormous tarp all wadded up, and the stock was gone. Couldn’t just waste that tarp, because chances are we paid for it with our tax dollars. So we folded it up and then put it in the storage container.
I saw this trimmed mule hoof on the ground, and the snow stake is now installed for viewing on the winter webcam.
Berries are ripe in the fall. Don’t eat the white ones. Trail Guy loves the red ones, Wax Currant.
There is a specific type of mistletoe which grows in red fir trees. It is weird stuff.
Look at these two huge chunks of the red fir that got dropped a few weeks ago. They got randomly placed in our neighborhood after being moved from the road. One has a thing attached that had something to do with phone lines. I didn’t photograph the messes from the dropped trees, but know I will be dragging brush and sawing limbs for a long time coming.
Now, the funnest of the fun things: I FINALLY* met Kevin Alltucker, author of The Mules of Mineral King, a book that I told you about back in August. He graciously accepted a gift of my Wilsonia book, and then his brother said that he (the brother) is one of my tens of blog readers. This gave me the idea to do this dorky photo (me dorky-looking, clearly too thrilled to think about posing better or controlling my grin) and remind you all who like Mineral King to BUY THE BOOK! It is so well-written. It was also fun to talk about the logistics of writing, publishing and (not) marketing one’s own books with a fellow self-published author.
The Mules of Mineral King is available through Riverfeet Press, (also at that big online store which begins with A and takes a large bite out of an author’s profits.)
2. AT&T is so awful. I have known this for a long time, but it got driven home again when I got a letter from a collection agency saying I owe $666 for a phone number that they NEVER activated, I NEVER had or used (because how can you use something you don’t have?), and they NEVER billed me for it. I’ve wasted so much time on the phone and writing letters, and wasted money sending the letters in a manner that the collection agency cannot lie about receiving them.
3. Seeing the Supernatural by Lee Strobel is so fascinating and weirdly believable. The premise is that there is an unseen world that DOES exist and there are countless stories which are corroborated by evidence. It’s not about UFOs; it is about real miracles, dreams, angels, deathbed wishes, and near-death experiences.
4. Check out these pumpkin harvest photos: it’s like a grown-up Easter egg hunt. (I wonder if my painting needs revision again.)
5. Tony’s Taverna in Three Rivers is finally open!! It took four years to go from buying an old building to making a fabulous Greek restaurant. The food is so good that I wanted to lick the plate, but I found a little restraint and was able to maintain dignity.
6. Through an online friend I’ve never met (Hi WilliamB!), I learned about an organization called Foster Care to Success, which helps kids who have aged out of foster care. They have an annual red scarf project, which caused me to immediately abandon my severe ongoing yarn diet and order enough yarn to knit 2 scarves.
This month’s list is long, many thoughts, few photos. Settle in, and enjoy!
1.Intermittent fasting for three months did not work to remove me from the category of pre-diabetes. I am discouraged, disappointed, disgusted. Dis, dis, dis. Maybe it is time to accept the reality. I hear over and over that “EVERYONE” is prediabetic, but that does not reassure me. I pursue removal from that category just in case it is the cause of peripheral neuropathy, as the neurologist is so confident about this.
2. When I was with Mrs. Texas, she did something so funny that I want to share it with you. Whenever we were eating something really extra good, she held up her hands, palms out, and said in a commanding voice, “NO TALKING.” (She said when you talk, you can’t taste things as well.)
On one occasion we decided to get ice cream. We stood there awhile, deciphering and considering the flavors, and then Mrs. Texas pointed to the price for small size dish with a single scoop—$6.75. EXCUSE ME?? Nope. We left without ice cream.
Still wanting a treat, we went to Starbuck’s because I had such curiosity about pumpkin spice lattes. I ordered a 12 oz. requesting only 2 pumps of the glorious flavored substance instead of the normal 3 pumps (the employee explained it to me—I didn’t know this from experience). Holy guacamole—I had to take it back to the house and dilute it with black coffee because it made my teeth hum. HOLY GUACAMOLE — it was $6.25!
No wonder I don’t go out to eat much. (at all)
3. Serious Eats is an interesting website with tips and information about food—articles about letting meat rest, how to really clean your kitchen sponge, never cry while cutting onions. . . and that was just the first time I went exploring on the site. (Already forgot most of what I read.)
4. Some friends said they like to drizzle olive oil and then sprinkle a little salt on vanilla ice cream. At first it sounds like ice cream abuse, but they said it was delicious.
Someone seems obsessed by food in this month’s learning. Is this a result of intermittent fasting??
5. Sold five pencil drawings and no oils. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?? I learned that I don’t know what I am doing when it comes to reading my customer base or understanding my market.
Since I didn’t sell any oil paintings, I will stop painting just for the fun of painting any particular subjects. Instead, I will accept commissions and paint sequoia trees or other subjects that stores sell for me.
6. I finally toured the Point Pinos Lighthouse. (It ought to be Piños, but no one bothers with the tilde.) I learned so much about that lighthouse and lighthouses in general.
7. Wisdom about anger from This Evergreen Home:
The late theologian and pastor Tim Keller once wrote that anger is energy spent defending what you love.. . .The next time you experience a bout of anger, be thankful that your brain has given you such a useful barometer into the things that you love. Take the opportunity to reflect on what makes you angry and whether those things accurately reflect the values you claim to treasure most. If not, it may be that the culture you live in has shaped you more than you realize, and that your loves have become misaligned.”
8. Getting older means loss. In the last year, I have sold my tennis racquet and my canoe, and this week I gave away my cross country skis. Tryna be realistic about my shrinking abilities to do stuff. The combination of a wrist problem and a foot problem have squeezed my limited activities even further. Never a fan of any sportsball*, the few activities I participated in didn’t require a great deal of athleticism. In actuality, I hadn’t used any of my gear for a long time. It just took awhile to face and accept this, and then figure out what to do with my unused stuff.
Maybe I should just join Pippin in the window, observing the outside world.
9. Clearly I need to face truth about my health, activity, business, and age. This wisdom is from M. Scott Peck. (When people use a first initial, does this mean they wish to be addressed by that initial? If not, then why even put it there?)
Truth or reality is avoided when it is painful. We can revise our maps only when we have the discipline to overcome that pain. To have such discipline, we must be totally dedicated to truth. That is to say we must always hold truth, as best we can determine it, to be more important, more vital to our self-interest, than our comfort. Conversely, we must always consider our personal discomfort relatively unimportant and, indeed, even welcome it in the service of the search for truth. Mental health is an ongoing process of dedication to reality at all costs. (M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled)
*team sports
We had an overcast day, with the typical over-promise-and-underdeliver weather forecast of rain. Oh well, at least we didn’t have lightning to worry about.
Since it was too dark to paint, I spent my working hours in the studio, drawing this pencil commission piece.
Sometimes this feels as if I am racing along at a good pace; other times it seems that I sit and stare without a clue as to how to proceed. The difficulty is the same as the Texas drawing: combining many photos into one (hopefully) coherent and believable scene.
I’ve been drawing agriculture subjects for so many years that I have forgotten many of them. I didn’t used to be diligent in photographing my work, back in the days of film cameras, weak copy machines, no home scanners or computers, and certainly no Photoshop.
An old friend sent me this card, which I wrote to her and her husband in 2001 (along with a sweet note because that is just how she is). When I flipped the card over, I saw that I titled the drawing “Tulare Cownty” and included a completely unfamiliar phone number with a 703 area code.
That was many studio locations ago. I’ve been working from home since 2002, and life has changed significantly in many ways.
One constant is still drawing agricultural scenes with pencils. Glad we can count on something to hold steady.
With two Giant Sequoias to paint, I chose to finish, nay, ALMOST finish the painting I started in Gilroy. Why not the Sequoia paintings first? Because I missed Mrs. Texas after spending so much time together.
I think it might need a blossom or two and better definition on the closer leaves.
Because I was painting two at the same time of the same scene, and they are the same proportions, I can’t tell which photos are which paintings. So, no in-progress shots today, just a beginning and an end of the day photo of each.
The small one (6×18”)
The 10×30” painting.
This one is too tall to reach the top when it is sitting on the table-top easel, so I worked on the lower part first, then flipped it upside down to work on the top. The middle section isn’t finished.
The painting isn’t finished. I sent a photo to the customer so she can tell me if I need to add, change, or delete anything.
I am just a hired brush, using oil paints to make art that my customers can understand of places they love for prices that won’t scare them.
The hazard tree crew returned to our neighborhood.
We had rain, both up and down the hill. It was overcast for a day or so after the rain. I wonder if this would make a good pencil drawing.
The classic view from the bridge, with Farewell Gap obstructed by the clouds.
The sun shone the next day, so Hiking Buddy, K, and I walked to Soda Springs.
Crystal Creek is still running.
See the orange? That’s where Soda Springs runs down into the creek.
It bubbles out of the ground.
Many cabin folks have a tradition of adding lemonade powder to the water, swearing that it is fizzy and delicious. It tastes like metal to me, reminding me of the drinking fountains at church camp as a kid. Ick, no thanks. K is very traditional, complete with a Sierra cup hanging on her daypack.
Here is the classic view in sunshine.
On the drive home, we were amazed by the ENORMOUS pile of road base collecting at Lookout Point for the ongoing road construction project.
Finally, here are The Potholes, still running steady and strong in September. My theory is that all the trees which used to take up water above this stream (called Squirrel Creek) burned up, so there is more water to continue flowing throughout the season.
And thus we conclude another tour of Mineral King. I’ll get back to work next week.
California has 21 missions, built in the 1700s or perhaps some in the 1800s. I don’t remember all the details from 4th grade, but I still love seeing those extremely ancient buildings. I detoured slightly on the way home from Gilroy to visit the mission in San Juan Bautista. It is better cared for than when I drew 30-something years ago. (Can’t find it to show you now. . .)
Across the street was an old building. It looked Victorian, not mission style, and it had a Texas flag. Weird.
California Highway 101 used to be called “El Camino Real”, which means The King’s Highway. All along are these old bells, except now I think the ones which haven’t yet been stolen are reproductions.
I have such a sense of awe, respect, curiosity, and a bit of excitement when I get to be at buildings this old. (Prolly would pass out if I ever made it to Ireland.)
San Juan Bautista is a small agricultural town; I don’t know what is growing in the fields down there.
When walking back to Mom’s Car, I took a picture of this saggy roof. (It reminded me of our cabin.)
Time to go home and get back to work.
P.S. I painted the Carmel Mission last year when at that weeklong painting retreat. It is fancier than San Juan Bautista.
