Lest you worry that I am spending too much time taking walks, visiting friends, admiring daffodils, and weeding my baby poppies, here is some evidence of forward motion toward completing the paintings needed for the upcoming show Still Here at Arts Visalia in April.
It was getting dark, so it was hard to see the right colors and the detail. Plus, the cats were ready to reclaim their home/jail/safe space for the night.
As a thank you gift for a gift of oil paints, brushes, and an easel, I am painting a Karmann Ghia.
No, not painting a car, making an oil painting of a Karmann Ghia.
This is for a former drawing student, and because my students and I always tell each other the truth about our art, I asked him to tell me if the painting was finished.
In the photo he sent to me, there was a piece of chrome missing from the door. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, so I took a close up photo of the door on the painting to ask.
He replied with another photo of the car. (I deleted it before remembering that you might want to see it.)
Aha! I fixed the painting.
This received approval, but I told him that I think oil paint is so wobbly compared to pencil. It is. The canvas has texture, the paint doesn’t often flow smoothly, and the brush hairs go rogue. But I keep trying to make my paintings look as good up close as they do from the back of a fast horse (or across the room).
I touched up the sky, brought the painting into the house to dry, and then scanned it.
Another one of my drawing students asked me why I painted it so small. BECAUSE IT IS FREE! Besides, when you give someone a piece of art, it isn’t wise to assume they will love it as much as you do or that they might have space for something large.
One of my long-time drawing students took as many art classes as he could cram in for several years at the local junior college. (Sorry, not sorry – “community college”) He completely immersed himself in art until suddenly, he was finished. Done. His interests moved into mechanical subjects, and currently he is immersing himself in all things automotive.
A few weeks ago he asked me if I’d like to have his oil painting supplies. REALLY?? Yes, please! What a generous gift!
So, I decided to paint a gift for him.
It isn’t quite finished because it needs me to draw with my paintbrush in order to reach the level of detail to do justice to his Karmann Ghia.
Yes, I still have paintings to finish for my upcoming show, Still Here.
But, in spite of those necessary paintings for the show, I am still. . .
A former drawing student lost her cabin in the Creek Fire this past summer. I asked her if I could draw it for her; she said yes and sent photos.
This former student participated in an art show a few years ago, along with 2 other advanced students and me. I asked those 2 others if they wanted to join me in drawing the cabin, and they both said yes. We all really like our friend and wanted to express our sympathy.
It took awhile to figure out what to draw, how to fit it together, who should draw which part, and even how to sign it.
It took awhile, but we did it! Our friend was very touched, particularly by the fact that we each had a part.
You’ve seen most of these photos before. I am showing them again so you can see them all on the same page in order of progression on this painting. Besides, it will help me to see them all together because then I will know I have actually accomplished something.
A few more details (including the flag and porch railing), painting the edges, signing, and then maybe this will be finished.
“Slow-poke” is a weird old word that probably has a good story behind it. This cabin isn’t a slow cabin; the painting of it is slow. Wait, no, the painter is slow. No, not slow–the painter is painting slowly.
Good Grief Charlie Brown.
I added shutters to the windows and door, changed the color of the cabin, began the dreaded lattice, added some dirt, tightened up the steps, began detailing the windows, changed the skyline and the forest in the background, and then needed to go have a smoke.
JUST KIDDING! I’ve never smoked anything in my entire life.
Isn’t it peculiar how the colors differ so greatly in different times of the day? When the painting is finished and dry (at this rate in another several months, GGCB), the scan should show the truest colors.
(But sometimes the process might scare you.)
Before sending the photo to my friend/customer of the oil painting of her grandparents’ house, I studied it on the computer screen, comparing it to the photo.
The mistakes in perspective and proportion just knocked me sideways.
Some were fixable, some are not. Back on the easel it went with the main problem being the bay window.
My friend didn’t notice any trouble there but asked that window on the balcony to be turned into a sliding screen door, and for some grass to be planted in front of the porch.
After I did those things, I noticed another problem with the balcony and changed the proportions there.
It needs to dry, and I need to figure out when to say when.
And chances are that if you read this far, you are probably yawning and wondering what all the jibber-jabber is about. My friend is very patient, doesn’t understand all my pickiness, and is happy with the painting, now in her possession.
Meanwhile, I will keep working to. . .
(Although sometimes the process scares me.)
This is the last drawing I did with a pre-Christmas deadline. It is a Mineral King cabin, and no, I will not publish the name as this is the World Wide Web and I respect people’s privacy.
It was a joy to draw a cabin that I am familiar with, one that I was able to take all the necessary photos instead of just working with one or two provided photos that were missing a lot of detail.
See these photos? I found them all helpful and necessary. This is my favorite kind of commission, but as you have seen on my blog over the past couple of months, I say yes to many challenging custom art jobs.
About 20 years ago I decided to learn how to draw people that can be recognized. This was a business decision: I have a love for architecture, not faces. It was very difficult, but I did quite a few portraits.
Later, I decided that portraits are best left to those who don’t have to sweat bullets in capturing likenesses.
This fall, a portrait came back to haunt me. A man I don’t know emailed me to say I had drawn his dad, and now would I draw his mom.
The request came during a lull in custom jobs, and against my better judgement while ignoring my lack of expertise in this area, I said yes.
He sent me this photo of the drawing of his dad. 
He also sent me several somewhat blurry photos of his mom with a request to put her next to her beloved carved bear. I know this fine lady, and was determined to do a good job. Several of my drawing students also know her, so without telling them who it was, I took the drawing to lessons and showed them.
What a thrill when they said, “That’s [Her Name]!!” (This is the World Wide Web, so I am not publishing the name of the subject.)
Now, I am returning to my policy of no portraits. My students said, “The plaid blouse must have been difficult”. It was easier than her face.
I haven’t heard back, and I hope the family was pleased (and doesn’t have any more members to be pencilized.)
A friend in Three Rivers has a rock in her front yard (well duh, most people in Three Rivers have rocks in their front yards) and for a few years, she has wanted some words painted on the rock. She mentioned it to me and I said, “I can do that!”
After she explained her idea, I spent time messing around with typestyles, looking for something I could imitate. After experimenting awhile, I realized the only choice was Papyrus, the type that graphic designers love to hate. I love it. What do you expect from an unsophisticated, marginally educated, DBO* from Tulare County?? It was the best choice because it has ragged looking edges, and I was painting on a ragged rough surface.
I forgot to bring my chalk to mark the borders, but was able to scratch in the lines with a rock, then put a first layer down to see if I could control the paint and a brush. 
Yeppers. I can do this. A new brush helped.
Layer layer layer. Watch out for drips.
Remember to step back and see if it is readable. 
My friend wanted it subtle, and liked the light color. I asked if I could add shadows, she was good with that, and we both liked the results.
Voila! Sanctioned graffiti (or sanctified graffiti?) My friend said, “Tell your people that I am thrilled, filled with happiness and joy over this!” I said, “We are ending this year proclaiming the truth.” She said, “Amen”, and we were both quite satisfied.
*Ditch-bank-Okie is supposed to be a pejorative term, but I view it as a compliment.