Little Pale Beige Dots

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. 

I asked the customer of this commissioned oil painting of an orange grove with his urchins if he wanted a wind machine, and he replied, “No, let’s go old school”. 

I asked him, “What? You want smudge pots??”

After we laughed, I told him that I just needed to add orange blossoms and do a bit more work on the urchins. He is very easy to work with, and was pleased with the progress.

These little blossoms are indeed little.

One would think that white would be the right color. One would be wrong.

These look white, but they are more of a pale beige. White was much too stark. (This is why I get paid the big bucks.)

Hours later, still a lot of real estate on this canvas to be covered in little pale beige dots.

Closing in on it. . .

Finished and signed.

And ready for the customer, once it is completely dry!

Another piece of custom art for the archives. . . because. . .

I use pencils, oil paints, and murals to make art that people can understand of places and things they love for prices that won’t scare them.

 

Hot Day in the Orange Grove

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Just another hot day at the easel, painting another orange grove.

Is it an “orange grove” or an “orange orchard”? We tend to call it “orange grove” or “orchard”. Some people call it a “ranch”, but I have yet to see any cattle in an orange grove. 

Commissioned Oil Painting

The swamp cooler kept me at the easel working on this commissioned oil painting until early evening. Growing leaves takes some time, particularly on a 16×20″ custom oil painting.


Reference Photos

In spite of being a familiar subject to paint, the piece is a challenge due to the melding of multiple scenes in multiple lights with multiple sizes and perspectives. My goal is consistency, believability, and of course, beauty. Always beauty, along with as close I can get to truth while fabricating the scene.

Here are a few of the dozen or so photos that I referred to. (Not showing the children because I respect people’s privacy here on the World Wide Web).

I love this photo. If I could have figured out how to put the children in this one and have the sizes all make sense AND be large enough to paint some detail, I would have used this one.

The painting still needs orange blossoms, and might need a wind machine. And because I believe it depicts the best part of Tulare County*, I will probably keep polishing it, drawing with my paintbrush, not wanting to quit.

Good thing there isn’t a deadline.

*I asked Ecosia (a new-to-me search engine instead of DuckDuckGo) to find me information on “the best of Tulare County” and it went to the Exeter Sun-Gazette, an article about Tulare County leading the nation in illiteracy. Sigh.

 

 

Hiking Nowhere in Mineral King

August is a busy month for cabin folks in Mineral King. The first weekend of the month is full of meetings and reunions. 

We also got rain, lots of wonderful soaking rain. Look how green it is!!

Since all the willows were pruned for fire prevention, I noticed new rocks that had escaped me for many years. This is Big Rock, so I guess that smaller one must be Little Rock. Or Small Rock.

The asters were thick along the road as I walked down to attend a meeting.

I saw a butterfly I’ve never noticed before.

I love this view at the top of Endurance Grade but either the water or the distant peaks are overexposed in every photo. This time I chose to let the water look all white so that you can see the peaks. Farewell Gap is out of the photo, to the right.

We listened to the superintendent of Sequoia National Park at the meeting. There were many many questions about fires. There were more people behind me and also to my right, but I like to protect people’s identities here on the World Wide Web. Some of these people we only see every handful of years, which makes it difficult to recognize faces and remember names. Good thing that Trail Guy and I never change, eh?

I rode up the hill with my friend Sharon, who drives fast, and down the hill with my friend Karen, who drives slow. Driving fast meant we got there sooner; driving slow meant we spotted scarlet monkey flower, something I’ve only seen once in memory. Both trips were fun, a time to visit with dear friends, friendships based in Mineral King which have grown closer through many years of occasional visits, layer upon layer.

Next Friday I will tell you a little bit about life as part of the community of Mineral King. 

Day Two of First Road Trip Since the Plague

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Does anyone else find it hard to sleep in a motel? I was dying to open the window, but it opened onto a walkway where other occupants passed by, and who knows it someone would crawl in?? So, that, along with the road buzz, made sleeping a bit of a challenge after my 500 mile driving day. “Road buzz” is my description of that inner vibration from being so alert for all those hours. Even my long walk around Weed didn’t completely obliterate the inner hum.

So, I was back on the road by 5:15 AM.

Holy guacamole, Oregon is so very beautiful. Even though the hills are becoming golden, the dried out look is offset by all the greenery surrounding it. Maybe it seemed extra beautiful because it wasn’t hot.

Upon arrival, my people had an appointment in downtown Salem, the capitol of Oregon. So, I went along but took a walk, in search of the capitol building. There were so many pretty parks, and beautiful old homes. No photos of the homes, because I was on a quest.

The talking lady on my phone sent me around in circles, telling me for about 3/4 of a mile, “go one quarter mile and turn right”. That right turn never arrived, so finally I shut her off and just followed my instincts. 

Instincts? This was based on a vague hand wave indicating “it’s that way”, and eventually, seeing the tip of a gold idol way above the other buildings.

Idol? A statue in gold reminds me of things mentioned in the Old Testament. It also reminded me of all those Moroni angel statues on top of Mormon temples in Utah. I’m not sure who Oregon has commemorated on their capitol.

Turns out that I walked 3-1/2 miles in the middle of an August afternoon. What a thrill to be somewhere that doesn’t cause one to just cower inside the air-conditioning! (I’m sure they do plenty of cowering indoors during the winter, because everything is a trade-off of some sort.)

Look at the scenery on the drive back. I was a passenger, so the photos aren’t quite as wonky as the ones from when  I was driving.

What a beautiful state!

The next few days will be spent in family activities, probably not photoworthy, so tomorrow (Friday) we will return to a Mineral King post. 

Next week? More will be revealed in the fullness of time.

 

First Road Trip After the Plague

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. We interrupt our regular broadcasting schedule to bring you a special report. After only leaving Tulare County 5 times in 2 years*, I drove 500 miles one day this week.

I headed straight out Highway 198 to Interstate Five, also known as “The Five” (not to be confused with a group of talking heads). For about the first 100 miles, I drove in silence. Then I tried talk radio, bouncing to music and back to talk. At about 250 miles, I put in a book on CD, Condoleeza Rice’s autobiography, read beautifully by her. Thinking I’d need more breaks, I was surprised to only stop twice for gas and once for coffee.

One of my favorite sights on that long highway is Truck Village. (My photos are better when I am a passenger than when driving.)

Suddenly, I was in Weed, my first night’s destination. This is a seedy town, dominated by Mt. Shasta, capturing traffic off The Five in addition to capitalizing on its unfortunate name (named after Mr. Abner Weed, who most likely is turning over in his grave).

The Hi-Lo Cafe has good food but a bit of trouble with spelling.

Resisting the urge to correct the sign, I took a walk around town. The elevation is about 3400′ and it was a very clear and comfortable evening to hop aboard the Zapato Express** after sitting all day long.

I went under the welcome arch (the cafe’s menu said it was built in the ’20s and then rebuilt in the ’60s), heading to downtown. There is definitely an artsy vibe, discovered several places but only photographed here on these decorated steps. Looks just like something I would do.  (Ahem. Something I may have done. Trail Guy is very tolerant of my little eccentric experiments.)

Weed has one rather worn-out looking mural. Sorry to break it to you, Weed, but a mural cannot save a village.

The town is dominated by Shasta.

Such a sad downtown. Many dispensaries, a thrift shop, a tattoo parlor, a couple of bars, a big antique mall, some souvenir places taking advantage of that unfortunate town name, a closed movie theater, a closed bowling alley, many other abandoned buildings, and some attempts to spruce things up by having nice sidewalks, a nice city hall, a couple of tiny parks. The homes I passed were full of potential for cuteness, but what would bring someone to this place besides the geography? 

Bye-bye, Weed. Maybe I’ll see you on the way back home.

*Once to Kern County, 4 times to Fresno County

**Take a walk

Many Happy Returns (and some not quite as happy)

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. 

Three Returns

One advantage (and disadvantage) of being in the art business in the same county year after year after year, is that sometimes your art gets returned to you. Some are happy returns, some are hassley returns.

The circle is a sign, painted by me about 10 years ago. The customer was happy and now the disintegrating sign needs to be replaced, larger this time.

The citrus art was for sale at Farmer Bob’s World, and nothing sold. The customer wasn’t happy, apparently. (Who was the customer? No one.) I am happy that I can sell it in a place with greater visitation.

Many years ago when I began oil painting, a friend (because almost everyone in Tulare County is a friend, unless he is a friend of a friend) bought this painting. That friend has moved on to his reward, and the painting was given to the Mineral King Preservation Society. The MKPS brought it to me because it needed a little attention after all these years. This is not a happy return because my friend is gone, but it is a happy return because I can spruce it up.

Interruption: What is Pippin Doing?

If This Ever Gets Returned…

The customers presented this painting to the happy recipient, who got a little teary-eyed. He and I have many things in common, and we just chattered away about various aspects of this painting, such as how the idea was conceived, what exactly is in it, why I left some things out, and how much we love this view. He is sort of like anutter brutter from our utter mutter. (And if this painting gets returned, I’m hanging it in my house!)

No More Return

I returned to this colored pencil drawing. The original concept was to only use the 24 Prismacolor colored pencils in their limited set. Those stupid pencils kept breaking, so I started using lots of other colors too. It reminded me of one of the many reasons I quit using colored pencils.

I doubt if I will be returning to colored pencils any time soon.

Not Returning This Either

About a year ago after a whole lot of trouble, I finally bought a mini fridge for the painting workshop. The freezer is where I store my oil painting palette, a convenient luxury. The big box store was TERRIBLE to deal with. A few weeks ago when I retrieved my palette, it was HOT inside the fridge. Sigh. I unplugged it, pulled it off its pedestal, propped the door open, and now I have to figure out how to get rid of it. I am NOT going back to the extremely inept, incompetent, undertrained, understocked, understaffed, and apathetic big box store. Instead, I will consider it one year of luxury, now both a memory and a hassle. (Learned in June 2021, #10)

Look What I Tried Next With Colored Pencils

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Sometimes I just live on the edge. In 2019 I took a plein air oil painting workshop, wanting to learn the skills of slamming out a painting before the light changed too much. It wasn’t easy for this studio artist who is used to a fixed environment, working from my own zillion photos. It wasn’t easy for this near-sighted artist who has fought to see clearly her entire life to enjoy painting loosey-goosey. Blurry on purpose?? Why would anyone do that?

Being somewhat adventurous with my art doesn’t come easily to me. However, I took a clipboard with a piece of good paper and my box of twelve (times two) colored pencils down to a spot along the creek in Mineral King.

First I photographed the scene so I would know what to do if/when the light changed or if it took too long and I needed to finish it in the studio. (Please, please, let me work in my studio, you mean bossy fake plein air artist!)

Then I began drawing, this time using Polychromos, because they don’t need sharpening as often as Prismacolor and they don’t break as easily. I chose brown for sketching, because the plein air oil painting teacher had us put our first layers down in a brown.

This is hard. Maybe I should just do the Honeymoon Cabin as it looks from this perch in the dirt.

Never mind. Focus, Central California Artist!

Forget all that brown. I want to start coloring, because I know it will take umpty-umpt layers to even vaguely approximate the colors I see.

This is hard. These colors are inadequate. My hiney is sore from sitting on this dirt perch. Other people are hanging out together having fun.

Why exactly am I doing this?

No good reason. Guess I’ll stop now and head back to the cabin. 

Maybe I will finish this, and maybe I won’t. I have several paintings waiting to be done, and there will be payments when I am finished. 

Sounds like an easy decision.

A Porch Kind of Weekend in Mineral King

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. When the weather isn’t favorable, we watch people trudge up the trails and think, “Nope, not us”. Instead, we stay close to the cabin, spending much time on the deck (sort of a porch, but without a roof).

There were plenty of things to do. First, we cleared out some unnecessary items from the upstairs.

I spent a little time by the creek, watching some little friends play, chatting with their dad, and photographing red clover.

Then, it rained. It rained hard without thunder and lightning. We used to enjoy thunderstorms, but now lightning makes us worry about fires. We got a little over 1/2″, always welcome.

I knit a lot. Just another green sweater that I don’t need, but I am 62 and get to do (mostly) what I want, and what I want is to knit, preferably in shades of green and blue, with natural fibers, using patterns that teach me new methods of design or construction.

A tree fell in the night. It sounded close. First I heard all sorts of debris (needles) hitting the roof, and then the crack, followed by a boom. As if I don’t have enough to be afraid of with lightning. . . now falling trees?? Off-Trail Guy went up the hillside behind the cabins and saw this newly fallen tree. It was a couple of cabins away, kind of far up the slope, and way skinnier than I expected. Why was it so loud? Why did I hear debris on our roof?

We also spent time with neighbors, read, and listened to the radio. A porch kind of weekend is fun once in awhile.

 

Is 12 Enough Colors for these Little Projects?

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. I wonder why colored pencil manufacturers chose to put twelve colors in their starter sets. Why not ten? Why not fifteen?

I wonder why they chose the twelve that they chose. Why this red and not that one? Why these particular blues? And greens?

Life is full of unanswered questions.

Here is my colored pencil drawing using only twelve Prismacolor colored pencils.

Here is my colored pencil drawing using only twelve Polychromos colored pencils (made by Staedtler).

Wait until you see what I tried next. . .

 

Is 24 Colors Considered Cheating?

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Before I started that sunflower drawing with 12 colored pencils, I started another drawing with a box of 24. This is because the box was handy, most of my sets of 12 were down the hill at the gallery where I teach drawing lessons, and I didn’t feel like looking up the 12 on the internet and digging through 4 mugs of pencils, along with 2 boxes PLUS a deluxe boxed set of 120. Who wants to dig through boxes and mugs and the interwebs when one could be drawing instead?

Told you I had a lot of colored pencils. . . I gave another deluxe boxed set of 120 to my nephew, and also cleared out many of the doubles and triples and then just gave them to any of my drawing students who wanted them AND left a bunch in Exeter for anyone to borrow. 

Where were we?

Oh. The drawing with the 24 colors. It was fun but not as fun as having to figure it out with only 12 colors.

It wasn’t as challenging as if there were only 12 colors, but less challenging than using a set of 240. I sort of quit. “Sort of” because I can go back to it if I want to.

But I don’t for now, because I want to draw some demonstration pictures for a new article for Carrie Lewis’s blog about using only 12 colors. (Good thing she isn’t sponsored by colored pencil brands who want to sell those giant boxed sets of 120 colors.)