Some friends in real estate in a distant place have occasionally asked me to paint something for a customer after a large sale is made. Client. I think “client” is probably more correct here.
Remember these?
Hmmm, was my scanner going south back then too? This is darker than the painting.
I wonder if the clients appreciated the paintings. No one has gotten in touch to thank me or ask for more.
Doesn’t matter. My customers are happy enough to come back to me. (Yes, my people are customers, rather than clients, and no, I don’t actually know the difference except that one sounds more expensive.)
My customers sent me the listing with gorgeously staged photos of the house and some drone shots (also gorgeous) of the giant property.
From these, with a little bit of guidance after I asked all the questions I could think of, I did two quickity sketches. The customers chose two possible sizes, probably based on their budget, and the sketches are proportional to each of the two sizes.
The property is a blueberry farm along with avocado groves. The house, although fabulously fabulous beyond all fabulosity, isn’t that important here.
Good thing they know that I can paint and draw.
To be continued. . .
BONUS: I read this from James Clear’s newsletter: “The problem with keeping your options open is that every option requires energy to hold. And a shelf full of maybes is often heavier than a hand holding one yes. Put something down.”
In case you are curious, this is some of the area around Ivanhoe. I really love it there, which you may have figured out. Of course I also loved living in Lemon Cove, and now I love living in Three Rivers. (Don’t move here—remember that we are fat, have diabetes, the air is bad, and there is no Trader Joe’s. Or 4 year college. Or most of whatever else people are used to in more populous areas.)
I didn’t know (or care) that Alta Peak is visible from Ivanhoe when I was living there. It was all simply “The Mountains”. Only people from far away said “The Sierra”, and people from cities said “The Sierras”. My dad taught me that it is simply “The Sierra” which is shorthand for the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Dad said it, I believe it, and that settles it.
This sort of view is probably in my blood and why I love to paint orange groves and mountains, none of which are listed on my website currently because I may be quietly hoarding them in my studio and house.*
The golden hill is part of Venice Hills, known locally as “Venice Hill”, singular.
*See?
SoldTulare Co.’s Best II, 24×24”, $1700In the Orchard, 11×14”, $300Behind Wutchumna, 18×36”, $2000
Never before (as far as I know) has one of my murals been messed with. I can’t say that anymore.
A couple of weeks ago, some stupid hon-yock threw an egg into the sky of my Ivanhoe mural. So, I told the librarian to have county maintenance see if it would wash off first, and if not, I’d go retouch it.
Eggs harden and that’s that, so I took a trip to Ivanhoe.
The damage was pretty subtle.
Have a closer look at the shiny streaks and drips:
All better now
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KH!
P.S. The sign also got spruced up, AFTER the stump and log it refers to got cut down and chipped up. (“We’re from the government and we’re here to help you”.)
We last saw this painting of Alta Peak and the Kaweah River (just “Kaweah River” without any identifying titles because here all the forks have come together) looking hopeful, but with much work ahead. It was time, nay, past time to get this done. (So many distractions!)
Here you can see how I progress from the farthest things to the closest things, adding more definition and detail as I work forward. I’m not saying this is either the only or the right way to paint—it simply is the way I learned and what works best to achieve the level of detail that I prefer.
1. Mountains and hills first, with some definition on the rocks2. Moving closer forward, completng the distant trees.3. Riverbank, rocks4. Water, more rocks
5. Grasses next to last; signature at the end.
I could have kept going, and still wonder if I ought to add a few closer wildflowers, but I signed it and moved ahead. Chances are I will mix some new greens and brighten the closest grass.
We last saw this one of Blossom Peak and the river looking like this:
The river is rockier and even more confusing in this scene, so the work of simplification is the first challenge.
Sky and Blossom Peak first—that was the easiest part.Not sure what I did next—this one is difficult.
The afternoon light was waning while I sat, stared, and contemplated how best to interpret real life into something paintable and believable.
The light is weird on this, so in better light I will study it some more to figure out how to improve it before signing.
You can see that the colors here look different from the 2 photos above. That’s how it goes when painting with natural light. Lots of people use an “ott light”. I don’t understand the word “ott” and only use mine if I’m on a deadline and have to paint when light is low. My approach is based on the fact that no one who buys my paintings will be displaying them under an ott light. They need to look normal and natural and good in regular light.
So this one will have to just hang loose and be cool for awhile longer. That’s what people used to say before “mellow out”, “chill”, “chill out”, and “chillax” came into use. Now I don’t know what people say other than “it is what it is”, meaning you can’t do diddly squat about it. Wait, does anyone say “diddly squat” anymore?
Not gonna bore you with mundane details of life, just the productive and mildly interesting aspects that often fill a workday for me.
First I met some friends early and we slammed out 4 miles on foot. Sometimes I don’t have anyone to walk with, and so I pick shorter steeper walks. On this particular morning there were 3 friends!
Next, Trail Guy and I decided it was a good day to figure out spacing and irrigation for another planting project at church. I’ve been keeping these shrubs alive for awhile for this purpose. (Vitex—doesn’t that sound like a food supplement? AKA “chaste tree” and we call them “lupine trees”)
When we got home, I called a glass shop to make an appointment to have someone come estimate the replacement of 5 broken window panes. Most came with the property and have been ignorable for many years, but last week I broke the pane over my drawing table. The window was stuck, and when I pushed on the frame from the inside, it warped enough to break the glass. Since this one matters, I figured I might as well get them all repaired.
Next, I finished editing a paper? document? report? for someone who has done a bunch of research, created this 160 page document, and may have slept through high school English classes. He did good research, and It could make a good book in the future.
When that was finished, I submitted the reformatted file of The Crooked Cross of Diamond Lake and then resized the cover to fit the greater number of pages. Why would I do this? Although Louise and I were quite happy with the outer appearance of the book, the interior was substandard. I used a free standard (Wait, didn’t I just call this “substandard”?) template from the book printing company and it was just ugly. So I successfully fought through my 11-year-old template and got it to work. (I’ll let you know when the book is available for purchase and how to get a copy.)
Of course I dress to coordinate with my book covers—don’t you?
When all my productive procrastination wore itself down to nothing left that could pass for work, I went outside to paint. The mosquitoes make it fairly annoying, so I picked a couple of pieces of lemon geranium and rubbed it over exposed skin. I think it actually worked as a mosquito repellant!
The order of business was to finish the last 2 paintings of the Honeymoon Cabin, getting stocked up for the summer selling season at Silver City.
I forgot to take the final photo of the 10×10” square painting.
The next two paintings are to sell here in Three Rivers, probably at Kaweah Arts or Stem & Stone. This one is a bit challenging with many things to simplify, many textures that would be possible if this was a pencil drawing. However, oil paint is a different media. (Thank you, Captain Obvious)
Same here.
When I left the painting workshop, I took two finished paintings into the studio to scan. I am still holding out that I can keep this scanner going for awhile. I really don’t want to spend a ton of time reading about them on the internet, trying to figure out who is a paid reviewer and who is telling the truth, figuring out what extra stuff is necessary to force it to work with Mac, and then having my laptop bite the dust (it is a 2015 model) and then the new scanner won’t work. Sigh.
The first one is as it scanned; the second is repaired with Photoshop Elements to more closely resemble the painting.
Same thing with this one.
And finally, I put the photos from my inferior phone camera on the laptop and wrote this post.
So many parts to my little life: editing, gardening, doing stuff for church. . . but I was ‘posed to be painting.
Look! This crape myrtle tree isn’t dead after all!
Hey! Why are these iris hiding?
This sign will be repurposed, but first Trail Guy had to scrape off old lettering, and then I had to put forty-eleven coats of paint on it. Now we get to store it until the next volunteer does his part.
What? You want another sign? Okay, fast-horse quality
LOOK! The climbing roses are blooming, and they usually don’t appear until the end of April!
Wait! I’m ‘posed to be painting!
Remember this guy? I thought he looked weird. After studying him upside down with the photo, I made a few adjustments, added a bit more detail, signed it and set it aside. This ain’t no piano I’m building here. . . let’s not get paralyzed by perfectionism, because summer’s selling season approaches.
Moving on, there are 3 more Honeymoon Cabin paintings to complete.
That was quick and easy. Next!
Back and forth between the two, tryna be efficient with the colors on the brush so I didn’t waste either paint or time.
Still, I didn’t finish either one of these. Maybe the next time I can get these both finished and move on to some Three Rivers paintings. Shoulda coulda woulda had them done in time for Easter weekend/First Saturday in Three Rivers, but there were so many other distractions. As you witnessed by the beginning of this disjointed post.
During my most recent pencil drawing commission, I contemplated how this would have been difficult in the past. There was great satisfaction in putting this together with confidence, knowing that I was exceeding the customer’s expectations while meeting a tight deadline.
Not bragging, just relaxing into the sense of work done well because of many years of experience.
Remember the chosen sketch?
In the past, just the oval shape alone would have had me puzzling over how to make a perfect one that fit the shape and size of the image. That was before Photoshop Jr. and I made friends. Definitely not besties, because Adobe is NOT Apple and therefore not intuitive AND keeps getting updated and complicated, requiring learning it all over again.
But I digress. Jr. was able to make an oval for me to transfer to my drawing paper. Thanks, Buddy.
Here is a little bit more of the progression. As usual, mostly working top to bottom, and left to right, to prevent smearing. The hot press watercolor paper I chose for the drawing is smearier than my usual Strathmore 400 Series Bristol Smooth. I chose it because the entire pad of the Strathmore was trimmed crooked. What?? Yeppers. Weird.
I sent this to Mrs. Customer to reassure her that I was back on schedule.
Then I worked on the oranges in the upper corners. Oranges are almost always my fallback position for decor in art.
There was a gap between the houses, larger than anticipated in the sketch, so I asked her for photos of flowers that mean something to her and she sent this:
In the past I might have suggested something more distinct instead of a mass of small flowers. But, I tapped into the confidence reservoir that experience brings and dove in.
Mrs. Customer was pleased, and so was I. The above photo is good enough to get approval, but not adequate should she request a reproduction of any sort. As the artist, I hold the copyright, and want to be sure that all reproductions are of the highest possible quality.
So back to my “frenemy” Photoshop Jr., because my scanner isn’t large enough for this 14×17” drawing. That meant I scanned it in 2 parts and then patched them together. I may have figured out a better way to make this happen. The learning never stops around here, accumulating experience with every new job.
And now that I am showing you here, I can see there is a bit more work to be done on Photoshop Jr.
Apparently the work never stops, along with the learning. Guess I got a little cocky. . .
After I finished formatting, photo editing and captioning, cover designing, bar code ordering and finally ordering the Springville book, I went back to the drawing board, which is actually a “drawing table”, I think.
Remember this sketch?
The upper house is mostly finished, and I was able to begin the lower one.
Jackson came into the studio, announcing his presence or perhaps expressing his dissatisfaction with life. He sat behind me in my chair so he could bite the back of my arms.
I hissed at him to make him stop, so he climbed onto the table.
That felt risky, so I was glad he decided to move on. He seemed interested in taking a nap in this basket, and as soon as I pulled out the inferior phone to take a photo, he changed his mind. Notice the wooden palette hanging on the wall. This was a gift from my thoughtful and comical Intern.
Despite the feline disruptions, I was able to make progress. As much as I enjoy editing and book design, it is never as restful as simply operating a pencil on paper. I was able to have a couple of phone calls and still be productive, something that is not possible when banging along on a keyboard, trying to make Photoshop, InDesign, or Word cooperate.
Silly title, sacrificing sense for alliteration. My blog, my silliness.
This is the April page on my 2026 calendar. (all gone. . . whaddya expect in month #4?)
These sycamores are so picturesque. . . used to be so thick that the buildings beyond were a mystery. After I started drawing this, the trees got pruned, things got raked, and a few months later I attended a Celebration of Life at the barn hidden back there. Who knew??
Yeppers, it’s for sale. You can email me for details if you are interested.
