Long Distance Commission

The wonder of the interwebs has brought me a customer that I most likely will never have the pleasure of meeting in person. Let’s call the customer Mr. J. Mr. J and I have gotten acquainted in the comment section of The Frugal Girl blog, and he asked me to paint the home he used to own. “Used to own” means that getting photos is now a bit tricky. New owners almost always make changes, so I am working from several photos, all taken from different viewpoints and at different times in the home’s existence.

Mr. J is a very precise communicator, responsive, specific, and always willing to email, text or talk on the phone.

The project began with an email almost a year ago. We discussed canvas sizes and prices. Mr. J wanted to wait until spring to get photos with certain plants in bloom. Spring came and went with no photos. I’ve learned through the decades that until money exchanges hands, it is simply conversation. I didn’t bug him, knowing that he is a person who will follow through when he is ready.

This past summer, or perhaps early fall, he sent me photos and a deposit check for half down, so we were in business.

Looking through multiple photos taken from different angles, in different seasons, and at different times in the house’s life, I started with a colored pencil sketch, which I scanned and emailed for feedback.

Mr. J sent it back to me in this form: black and white, covered with notes.

I studied it, and realized we needed to have a conversation. We talked quite awhile, and I made lots of notes. The conversation was very helpful in understanding things that made no sense in the multiple photographs.

When I realized the degree of detail that Mr. J wants, I suggested a pencil drawing. He was unsure, because the finished piece will be displayed with other paintings of other buildings. I sent examples of my detailed architectural drawings, and a week or two later, he replied that oil was his preference.

To be continued. . .

New Oil Commission, Chapter 6

We last saw this oil painting commission looking like this. I actually wrote a long list of parts that need work, but it was really unnecessary because I can see what to do.

We refer to this section of trail as the Green Tunnel in the summer months and the Yellow Tunnel in the fall. Customer Mister asked that I add some yellow leaves; I think he would like the painting to reflect the crossover time between the two seasons. So, I did.

Then I kept tinkering around, adding branches, background, more leaves to the upper right, more bark, more trunks in the distance, on and on and on. Who will tell me if/when I finish this?? Not yet—the humanoid will take hours of tiny brush work.

This needs to dry for a little while before I keep detailing. Tomorrow I will be showing you another oil painting commission.

An honest look at an artist’s life

Buckle up, settle back, get comfortable, because here is a Very Long Post. It is not a complaint; it is a hard look at reality.

On the surface, it seems that the life of an artist is all glamour and glory and unlimited creativity. Maybe that is true for some artists, but I don’t know those people. (I may have met one or two, but they didn’t remain in my memory.)

The reality is that to earn a living with art, particularly in the 3rd poorest and least educated county in the state, you’d better use your creativity in more ways than just making art.

Booth all set up, ready to sell!

A few years ago, someone important to me expressed surprise that I still participate in arts and crafts shows. Bazaars, boutiques, fairs, festivals—those little events that attract makers of all sorts of wares, usually those who do the making as a side hustle, always wishing they were “lucky enough” to do it full time.

As I thought about what my Important Someone said, “I thought you were beyond those by now”, I realized that I wished I was beyond those. Maybe I should find other ways to sell my work while keeping in the public eye. Maybe I should aim higher, and just stop doing those shows which I have always found so draining.

“Draining?”

I can do the work: plan, design, and order enough inventory in a wide variety of different prices, price everything clearly, decide the best way to display the items (so it looks like a nice boutique instead of a garage sale), find all the parts and pieces to put it together, figure out how to load it into cars and pickups (I used to do a show which required my dad’s pickup, Michael’s pickup, and my car, along with both my parents’ and Michael’s help to set up), and finally, figure out how to publicize it in every corner, every tribe, every location of my life, all in preparation for a hard day or two or three. This isn’t draining, only time-consuming, and it cuts into the production time needed to complete commissioned work..

“Hard”?

I can stand there all day, because if I was working in a retail store or a restaurant, that would be required. I can meet people, talk to them, learn their names, listen to them tell me about their friends or family members or themselves who draw or paint or cartoon or used to do those things. I can help them choose what fits their budget, hand out business cards, talk to them about drawing and painting and drawing lessons and murals, tell them about my daily blog, discuss commissions, and just be UP and ON all day. I can refuse to pack up early, then load it all back into boxes and crates and into the vehicles and transport it home and unload it, and yawn and limp to the bank the next available business day.

HOWEVER, I am an introvert, (albeit one with social skills and professionalism), so these shows take awhile to recover from. All that talking. All those people. All that energy and noise and cheeriness. Afterward, I need SILENCE. PEACE. SOLITUDE. Then, if the show has not been well-attended, or if it is hot, or if it is cold, or if sales were poor. . . validation comes from people giving you green pieces of paper with dead presidents’ faces, and without that validation comes all the thinking, evaluating, questioning, wondering, speculating.

The world has changed in the 30+ years I’ve been doing these shows. Publicity, demographics and economics are all different now.

PUBLICITY

Everyone gets his news from a different source, rather than a single local newspaper or billboards and banners on specific routes, or local radio stations. Facebook? —only those folks they follow; Instagram? —only the folks they are connected to; TikTo? k—I know nothing; local websites? —if they know about them.

DEMOGRAPHICS

There is a trend toward minimalism right now. People have inherited possessions from grandparents who grew up in the Depression and from parents who were raised by “Boomers” who have accumulated many possessions (some so many that there is no room to park a car in the garage), and now we all live in an era where anything can be had immediately and cheaply. To top it off, homes are smaller, younger people rent rather than own, and there is a strong bent to pay for experiences rather than possessions. Collecting anything is no longer common, and as far as I can tell, older people’s homes are already decorated while younger people don’t care about such frivolity.

ECONOMICS

Gas is $5/gallon, groceries haven’t dropped back down in price (although eggs are no longer $7/dozen and I recently paid a bit less than $4 for a pound of butter), cellphones cost a lot to keep updating (no longer does a single landline serve an entire household), and art is a luxury, especially when you have already inherited some, received some as gifts, bought inexpensive decor at Hobby Lobby, or simply prefer to frame a pretty card that someone sent you (because who actually sends real cards anymore?? This makes a card a real treasure.)

So, IF folks happen to stumble across an art fair, they might be inclined to stop simply for the experience. It is fun to see what people make, to talk to artists, to listen to a local musician and eat a Frito-boat (I guess it is, having never had one), to enter a raffle (because often “free” trumps minimalism), and to run into people you know doing likewise.

Does it make sense to continue participating in these shows? Do I need to do this so that I can meet new potential students and customers? Are there better ways to publicize? Has the era of the craft show come to an end? Is this the best way to remain in the public eye?

I can’t decide now. I’m going to limp off to the bank with a little pile of money from selling a pile of little things.

One More Autumn Break from Painting

That flowering pear tree!!

A friend and I took a walk around her neighborhood. It is the only traditionally laid out group of homes in Three Rivers, often referred to as “the suburbs” for its resemblance to typical neighborhoods in the non-foothill towns of our county. (Yeppers, we are special here.)

Check out this house! That is a wooden tree, made in four custom panels to fit each window.

Blossom Peak is visible from the ‘burbs, and it looks so different depending on where you stand. (See? special!)

Because this blog is supposed to be promoting my art, here is a painting of the most common view of Blossom Peak, which is actually 3 peaks. One friend has corrected me on the moniker “Blossom Peak” as the name of all three; apparently one is Blossom, one is Britten, and one is a why bother.

And here is a view from the ‘burbs looking up North Fork. It took us a minute to discern that we were actually seeing up the canyon of the North Fork of the Kaweah River, and then I remembered that when one is standing on the Airport Bridge (there used to be an airstrip near the North Fork), Blossom Peak is visible.

Let’s have another visual aid, another oil painting, of course.

Finally, since the point was to enjoy autumn in Three Rivers, here is a final photo of splendid color, Virginia creeper this time.

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHIRLEY GOODNESS!

New Oil Commission, Chapter 5

Before I finished layering the background things, I blew off any discipline about painting, ignored conventional wisdom about The Way You Are Supposed to Paint, and I launched into detailing.

When I draw, I work from top to bottom, left to right. This way I don’t rest my hand on finished parts, thus not smearing graphite around. So, in spite of generally painting from back to front (the farthest away thing like the sky first, moving forward toward the closest objects), sometimes I resort to drawing with my paintbrush in places where there are enough layers to warrant the detail. This means the left side of the canvas might start looking pretty good while the middle and the right side still resembles a dog’s breakfast.

I couldn’t see very well with the doors open and bright light behind the canvas, so I rotated it. Hence, the colors appear to have changed. (Did anyone notice this?)

Bark on trees, more branches, better grasses, humanoid becoming more human (and now wearing shorts), more leaves, more this, that, and the other thing.

It was a very satisfying afternoon of painting (and only a little mosquito slapping.)

HEY, SEARCH ENGINES, IN CASE YOU ARE LISTENING, THIS IS A PIECE OF CUSTOM ART, AN OIL PAINTING OF A MINERAL KING SCENE. (Just in case there are a handful of folks who wish to join my tens of readers and see how a painting is built by this regional artist, this self-trained, user of a paintbrush like a pencil.)

WHAP, SLAP!! WHY are there mosquitos still plaguing me in November, for Pete’s sake?!

New Oil Commission, Chapter 4

About the mural

The threat of rain prevented me from beginning on Friday. More relevant:the powers that be did not offer me a key to their building, which means I can only paint on Fridays. This coming Friday I will be setting up for the Holiday Bazaar, and the following Friday is part of Thanksgiving weekend, with no idea if the library will be open. So, why start and then wait 4 weeks before continuing??

Commissioned Mineral King Oil Painting

This custom piece of art, a commissioned oil painting of a Mineral King scene for a customer we will call Mister while not assigning any pronouns in order to protect anonymity, is starting to come together enough that I am no longer questioning the wisdom of accepting the job.

You can see the difference in color below because the sun was behind the hill. The inferior camera phone makes adjustments for low light, while changing the color. I sat down to work on the foreground, to get the darks and lights in the right places, hoping the colors were good (are shadows blue? purple? or just darker dirt and darker grass colors?). Tricky stuff to paint in low light.

I got tired of slapping mosquitos so I stopped after here. (Stopped painting, in hopes that I could stop slapping.)

I am still somewhat apprehensive about my ability to create a humanoid which is not only believable, but recognizable.

But it is too soon to worry about this. Actually, why worry at all? Instead, I’ll continue to paint.

I considered making a list of everything remaining, but it is too soon for that too.

A Break From Painting to Enjoy Autumn

I had a job about 100 years ago at a vocational school. It was a terrible job, because one of my duties was to collect on unpaid student loans. One of my few good memories of working there was meeting a student named “Autumn Eve”. I didn’t get to know her very well (fraternization was discouraged between students and hired help), but I never forgot her name.

But I digress.

Let’s take a look at some autumn pictures in Three Rivers.

The flowering pear tree outside my studio is The Champion. (Not interested in hearing about native and non-native trees during Autumn, but thank you for your concern.) Chinese Pistache trees are also stunning this time of year. So there.

That was fun. Let’s do this again in a couple of days.

A New Mural

Three years ago, the county allowed elected supervisors to have a bit of free rein on things like murals in their districts. My supervisor asked me to paint a mural on the Ivanhoe library, the beloved library of my youth. You can read about it here, here, here, and here.

If you don’t want to go back and read those posts from 2 years ago, here is the short version. The county reined in the Wild West approach, a committee was formed, and a call to artists went out to submit designs and compete for MY MURAL!

Eventually I got chosen, but they forgot to find the money first. Another 2 years passed, until this summer I was given permission to begin. First I needed to wait for the heat to abate and then for my unbloggable situation to resolve.

Meanwhile, the committee gathered money, and decided to only have one mural on the West wall, probably because they didn’t have enough money to pay for two murals because the original payment offered wasn’t high enough to entice many muralists (only guessing this from a few conversations I had with some muralist colleagues).

They requested that I make a change on the orange packing label from “Venice Cove” to “Venice Hill”. I was willing to do this, but only with permission from Klink, the packing house. What a surprise—it has merged with 2 or 3 other packing houses and is now called California Citrus or something similar. Not “Klink” anymore?? This hurts my little Ivanhoe heart, but I’ll soldier on.

Today I thought I would be working on the mural. However, there is now red tape and bureaucracy to navigate, with many opinions, an anonymous committee, and a college student who wants to intern with me. My hope is to be given access to the building on days when the library is closed. Otherwise, I will only be painting on Fridays, and this could take a very long time to complete.

I am REALLY REALLY REALLY looking forward to finally painting this mural!

Meanwhile, I continue to work on a couple of commissions, one of which I have been showing to you and one which is still in the design and decision phase.

(And I’ve actually begun working on the 2027 calendar. The 2026 is available here or anywhere you run into me if I remembered to put some in Mom’s Car* or whichever pick-‘em-up I happen to be driving.)

*It is a really nice car, and I really miss Fernando. Really. Sigh.