Spider Webs on the Easels No More

There are actual spider webs on my easels after a summer off.

I didn’t take the summer off on purpose; there simply wasn’t any reason to add to inventory.

Now there are reasons to paint: the Holiday Bazaar will be November 18, St. Anthony Retreat has requested small paintings to sell in their gift shop, and the Mural Gallery in Exeter recently sold a few paintings.

These little beginnings await layers.

These sizes have been chosen, along with photos/subjects to paint. Most of the photos will be cropped or several images will be combined. I always feel the need to state this in case you think I am strictly following photos. I don’t have the ability to copy photos perfectly with those imperfect paintbrushes, and in The Art World, it isn’t considered a good thing to do that.

Sometimes I try anyway, so there. I am not in The Art World; I am your Central California artist, using oil paint to make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

Yes, there is a pair of pumpkins begun behind the 2 lake photos. Yes, you have probably seen both of the Sequoia scenes painted by me before along with the 2 lake photos. Okay, fine, yes, the Alta Peak/Moro Rock too. Not a problem, because new people will be looking at the new paintings.

I used up the paint on my palette to get a first layer down on the canvas.

Then I took another photo of the 2 that I am now considering to be finished. I added a bit more detail to the foreground grass on the buffalo, titled “Ed’s Herd” (because the buffalo herd belongs to Ed) and added a bit more sky under the sunset-colored (NOT FIRE!!) clouds, finally signing that one.

Back to the Easels and the Drawing Table

After several months of no work (i.e. lovely free time at the cabin without deadlines or guilt), work is beginning to trickle back into my days.

First, a pencil commission. (I still love to draw.)

This was the little sketch for the customer to approve or amend.

She made a couple of suggestions, and I scribbled a few notes for further verification.

This is a house I visited. Actually, I visited the people there, but the house really stuck in my memory as very attractive. It will be quite fun to draw.

I worked on the herd of buffalo for the upcoming show at CACHE, called “A Bovine State of Mind”.

It might be finished, but I will wait to sign it until I am completely sure there is nothing left to improve.

I remembered that the Holiday Bazaar in Three Rivers is coming November 18, 2023. This is the Saturday BEFORE Thanksgiving. It is time to think about beefing up my inventory of smaller paintings for this annual boutique at the Remorial Building. (Remorial, liberry, prolly. . . bet you can translate these words).

Yep, messy, but the first layers always are.

It’s great to be producing art again, both with pencils and oil paints!

Oil Painting Comparisons

Let’s compare some oil paintings: a 2006 version reworked, a 2010 painted again, and a painting begun to its midpoint.

I painted this in 2006; my friend (let’s call him Craig, because that is his name) brought it back to me upon my request. I wanted to rework it so that I wouldn’t feel embarrassed for taking his money 17 years ago.

It took awhile, but I found the original reference photograph. With limited (ahem, zero, actually) experience in painting scenery back then, I just did my best to match the somewhat gray and faded colors of the photo. I was successful in matching, which is one of the important lessons of learning to paint. However, now I like to substitute brighter colors.

Craig also asked me to repaint a 6×6″ scene that I had originally done in 2010. I was able to convince him to just trade me rather than keep 2 almost identical paintings.

Can you tell which is old and which is new? Probably not, so I’ll tell you: old is on the right, new on the left.

Then I decided to touch up the old so that I can sell it next year, assuming my places of commerce will be open and thriving again.

You probably can’t tell the difference in this photo. That’s okay, because I can and I know it is better now.

Finally, let’s look at a painting in its beginning ugly stages, and then enjoy it after it has been worked on a bit more.

I relayered the sky and clouds, worked on the trees, and began detailing the buffalo. (For some unknown reason, I worked from right to left on the herd, rather than my normal left to right.)

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is IMG_5089.jpeg
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is IMG_5262.jpeg

I love to draw with my paintbrushes.

Cabin Life, Chapter Twenty-two (Finale)

Cabin Life: Final Thoughts

Someone’s Colorado cabin –definitely not small, rustic or rude

This is a backcountry cabin somewhere in Montana.

This rest of this post features drawings of Wilsonia cabins, where I spent 4 summers learning about that cabin community and discovering many common themes to the Mineral King community.

There are three distinct parts to cabin-ness:

  1. The building itself – small, rustic, basic, simple, often without electronic amenities. (But wait! What about the cabin pictured above?)
  2. The setting – rural, semi-secluded, in the mountains, taking an effort to get to (But wait! Have you ever been up Highway 180 to Wilsonia? And do these cabins look semi-secluded to you?)

     

A Wilsonia road

 

 

 

A Wilsonia neighborhood

The culture—slower, focused on people instead of technology; a place to play, recreate and relax, mostly outside; a place where meals and fireplaces become events in and of themselves; returning to nostalgic pastimes either of our youth or of some idealized youth of our parents and grandparents.

 

Outdoor dining is a big part of cabin life.

 

Napping is a regular method of relaxing at a cabin.

 

See? Outdoor dining area

 

Even outdoor cooking!

Fireplaces are a huge part of cabin culture.

 

Eat and run??

It seems that the culture part is the strongest determining factor of cabin life. Some of our cabin neighbors gathered in another location for several summers, due to illness of one of their group. One of them told me, “We do Mineral King things in Seattle, and Mineral King is present with us there.” (I probably paraphrased it beyond all recognition – Forgive me, Sawtooth Six!)

Thus, we conclude our 2023 series on Cabin Life. (unless I think of something else)

P.S. Most of the drawings in this post are part of the book The Cabins of Wilsonia, available here.

P.P.S. I can draw your cabin because. . .

. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

What Is Happening With This Blog??

Something got “updated”. Lots of tools are missing. There doesn’t seem to be a way to schedule posts ahead. So, today you got 2 posts, and now this baffled explanation. STOP MAKING CHANGES, YOU TECHNO-BEASTS!

Excuse me. I feel like yelling.

Thank you for your patience and understanding. (assuming you haven’t unsubscribed by now.)

Progressive River Oil Painting

This oil painting of the river is inching forward. Remember this?

Here is a day of (interrupted*) painting in steps.


*Quickety trip to the next mural site to learn the best method to transfer pattern to wall; phone call to spray varnish manufacturer to ask how to deal with the continually clogging nozzle; writing an endorsement for my mechanic’s upcoming website; asking some friends to do the same; phone-tagging and texting to make an appointment to show my paintings to a new vendor; several long phone discussions attempting to keep the wheels on a project that seems to be circling the drain (that’s called a “mixed metaphor”); photographing and scanning completed paintings. . . all part of the business of art.

Cabin Life, Chapter Twenty-one

Thoughts on Cabins from a friend

A dear friend of many years, Natalie, sent these thoughts, titled “What a Cabin Means to Me”. (Nat, I did a tiny bit of editing – hope it clarifies rather than changes your intent.)

  1. Secluded from the general public and hard to get to
  2. In the mountains
  3. Small and rustic, having only basic amenities, and no room for isolation.
  4. Not a second home, but more of a make-do-and-relax kind of place where there is no television or phone service. A place where you interact with family and friends by sharing meals, playing cards and other games, sitting by a fire, hiking, and just cherishing the quietness of the outdoors.

Once again, mountains, small, rustic, games, firesides, food, outdoors, friends and family appear. I think Natalie’s ideal cabin would separate her family from outside influences, causing togetherness among themselves. This is a theme I found multiple times. . . a desire to unplug and simplify in order to focus on the ones who are most precious.

Our Mineral King cabin is definitely a cabin but varies from Natalie’s thorough and excellent definition in several ways.

  1. It is a second home to us, but not in the sense of a home with all the luxuries you may be accustomed to (our first home is purposely lacking a dishwasher, microwave, “smart” gadgets, garbage disposal or heated towel racks; we’re just fine, but thanks for your concern).
  2. The cabin no longer has a telephone, but we borrow the neighbors’ to check our messages on the home answering machine.
  3. Neither one of us likes to play games; in the evenings we listen to the radio, Trail Guy reads out-of-date newspapers that friends bring up to him, I read library books and knit.

There is no single definition of “cabin”, but there is a feel to a place that makes it a cabin. I will share a few more ideas about it tomorrow. Then, maybe I will be finished with this topic. (No promises, because after all, my business is called Cabin Art.)

So, according to Natalie, a cabin is a small, poorly-constructed, primitive, one-story hut in the woods where everyday life is distant, and we gather to laugh with family and play board games while a fire keeps us warm. (If you have a giant log mansion on a lake somewhere, then you will have to edit this description to fit your idea of what constitutes “cabin”.)

P.S. I can draw your cabin because. . .

. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.