Ad-libbing, Guessing, Winging It

On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.

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Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.

Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.

With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.

I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.

A Situation and a Recovery

A week ago, I had a situation to deal with: I got sick. Such a disruption. I was only able to paint a little bit before the need to lie down took over.

While reclining, I used the laptop to look carefully at the paintings finished and paintings needed for the upcoming solo show at CACHE. More paintings are needed, but feeling poorly meant that I would paint poorly.

There were other tasks to tackle, ones that didn’t require heavy concentration. One day I gathered canvases, put on the hanging wires, chose titles, assigned inventory numbers, and actually slapped on a light layer of paint. I knew it wasn’t a good day for painting when I dropped my palette. It landed upside down, of course. I headed back to the couch.

These are all 8×16″, a new size for me. 10×20″ was too big, and 6×12″ was too small. These might be just right, as Goldilocks said.
These are all 16×20″.

Another simple task for another day was to scan these two new Mineral King paintings.

Sawtooth #61, 8×8″, $145
Mineral King Valley #7, 8×8″, $145

Recovery came; it always does (except when it is time for the big dirt nap).

Painting Mineral King with the Swamp Cooler

On another hot day with my brave swamp cooler, I focused on the giant oil painting of the classic Mineral King scene.

I was thankful to have the sky finished—well, finished unless I decide later that it isn’t finished. It is just too tall for me to reach, so some logistics must be addressed each time I work on it. Tabletop about 3′, lowest easel setting about 5″, top of painting another 3′. I’ve used a ladder in the past but my numb feet don’t want to stand on a rung these days. I do have a large floor easel, but am too lazy to set it up. It’s just one painting—I can stretch.

Details on the peaks, building up the background as I work lower (and closer to the viewer in the scene).

Fix that cabin!

Sort out the river ripples, rocks, and layers of willows according to the “map” I drew a couple of weeks ago. This distinction isn’t very visible in the final photo, but it makes sense to me.

Give up and go in the house. Five hours in the swampy heat is enough for today. I’m guessing to have about 15 hours remaining to completion. That is a WAG (Wild [Donkey] Guess), for those readers who always like to know how long a painting takes. This probably already had 3 hours in it before I started back up.

Back to Painting Mineral King.

Thanks for taking a detour with me to Hume Lake. I came home and went straight to the easels. Mineral King is my main subject this time of year, a short season with no time to lollygag around. (Imagine taking a vacation FROM Mineral King!)

This piece got sky, and I started shaping the mountains that form Farewell Gap. It is 18×36″, and will take awhile to complete.

So, it is necessary to focus on some small pieces. Again.

I finished these five. One of the Mineral King Family Cabin paintings was painted for a blog reader, but I haven’t heard back from her, so maybe she didn’t read the comment reply or the email I sent her. (HELLO, JO L! ARE YOU STILL INTERESTED?)

These two 8×8″ canvases will become Sawtooth #61 and Mineral King Valley #7.

All the paintings are to be sold at the Silver City Store, unless they sell here first.

(6×6″ = $70, 8×8″ = $145, 18×36″ = $1500 Thanks for asking.)

Brain-melting Painting

Remember last week or so I showed you some completed paintings intended for Silver City, unless they sold first?

They sold.

Someone else asked for the one called Mineral King Family Cabin about 5 minutes after it sold, so I told her I’d paint another one for her.

Of course I needed to paint some new little pieces for Silver City too.

These look distorted in the photo; in reality, they are each 6×6″.

These aspens really caught my attention, maybe because of all the details, maybe because I have been painting many paintings of the same scene recently. They aren’t finished, but I signed them anyway. It was so hot in the workshop even with the swamp cooler, so maybe my brain was melting a little.

This one needs a do-over on the sky, and the flowers were put in too early. It needs to dry before I put those dots of color in. I signed it too. Brain melt.

I figured these could wait until another painting session, but a friend came over and kept me company, so I just kept working. Such a good friend, to sit in the swamp cooler “cooled” workshop with me!

This is a view of the Honeymoon Cabin I haven’t tried before. I signed it too. It isn’t finished —the angle of Vandever is too steep, and the cabin roof is the wrong proportions. But, that melting brain did at least allow me to get this far.

It was the first hot spell of the season, and maybe it isn’t hot compared to real summer. (It is still spring on the calendar.) Things felt hotter than normal because the previous night we were without power for 12 hours. This means no A/C, no fans, no internet, no landline, no cell phone (because we don’t have service without wifi). It also meant almost no sleep.

I thought about why we can easily live without any of those things in Mineral King. Simple. We live simply there. Woodstove, propane fridge, no phone, and no A/C or fans required.

Painting Mineral King in Mineral King

The view of a family cabin from the Mineral King bridge with Farewell Gap in the back and the stream in the front is the most popular scene that I paint of Mineral King. Sales have been brisk, and I am trying to get some inventory ready to go. So, instead of just hanging out in Mineral King, I did some work.

First, I started painting without the easel. It is annoying to set up, and I just wanted things to be easy.

Then I changed my mind. It seemed possible to set up both paintings side-by-side on the easel, which would make it worthwhile to hassle with the easel.

Yeppers, this works.

After awhile, the paintings felt too hard. I was looking at about 6 different photos, getting confused about which one to follow for which part on which canvas. Which which which. Time for a break. I walked to the bridge and sketched the various ripples, rocks, and willows, which all showed because the willows weren’t leafed out yet.

Now I have a map to follow whenever I paint this scene.

Finally, I set it up to dry so that I could get it home without incident.

I’d rather not work while in Mineral King, but if I cannot hike, I might as well be productive. And it is pretty handy to go see the real scene instead of relying on photographs.

Two Large Iconic Tulare County Scenes in One Day

By “large”, I mean 18×36″ and 20×24″. By “iconic”, I mean these are familiar and much loved vistas of Tulare County.

I bet you can guess the subject of this 18×36″ painting.

Paintings start out so sloppy, but I am finally used to it and not worried when I start a new one.

This was too tall for me to reach the sky, so I flipped it upside down.

Sometimes I wonder why I even look at photos anymore when I paint this scene. Then I do something complicated such as trying to combine two different photos, and then realize that one was taken in morning light and one taken in the evening. This doesn’t work out well.

When beginning a new painting, shapes keep getting corrected and moved and resized. Eventually there is wet paint over the entire canvas, and anything I attempt just smears. When that happens, I move to another painting.

Lake Kaweah is VERY FULL right now. VERY FULL.

I enjoyed mixing the colors of the clouds and the distant mountains. They were fun to detail, but I know they aren’t good enough. Yet.

Although I am using a photograph, I might have to do some altering in order for the clouds to be believable. The sky needs another layer too. I wonder if the lake could use a houseboat or two or seven. Lake Kaweah with Moro Rock, Alta Peak and Castle Rocks in the distance is a very iconic scene in Tulare County. It wasn’t on my list to paint for the upcoming solo show until a friend showed me a beautiful photo she took on her way home from work in Three Rivers a week or two ago. She graciously offered to let me paint from it, and I started this painting the very next day.

Stay tuned. . .

Painting Mineral King

In anticipation of a busy selling season this summer at the Silver City Store, I am painting like fury to have inventory. If I can get enough small pieces finished ahead of time, then I can return to painting larger Tulare County scenes for the solo show in the fall at CACHE in Exeter.

The most popular scene, assembly-line style for the base coats. Fret not: they will be detailed individually, and I won’t have all of them on display at the same time.

All of these are in various stages of completion, contributing to a sense of chaos and indecision as to how to proceed. It’s just part of the process when one chooses to be a factory, churning out many paintings of the same scenes.

These 6×6″ will be ready to go, once dried, scanned, and varnished.

Clockwise from upper left: White Chief, Alpenglow on Farewell Gap, View from the Bridge, Sawtooth.

This one was easier the second time I painted the scene. I’m a little reluctant to look at it side-by-side with the first version in case I decide this one is A. better or B. needs more work.

Finally, I started a 20×24″ painting of a scene shared with me by a drawing student. It looks like a weird abstract in the first pass over the canvas, but you trust me, yes? And you probably recognize the scene in the second photo here.

This one is going to be challenging but very satisfying. I messed with the photo to make it look more like we want to remember the scene rather than just accepting what the camera says. It really is a classic Tulare County vista.

Sold in Spring: 17 Paintings, 3 Pencil Drawings

Sales were slow last year, mostly due to the fact of my three selling locations either being closed or taking a big hit of one sort or another.

This spring, things broke loose, opened up, took off. Have a look! (I may have forgotten some, because I fell out of the habit of keeping track.)

It was the usual blend of citrus, poppies, redwood trees, and Mineral King, with two of the river during peak run-off season. I do have a few other subjects, but these continue to be the most popular. The largest size painting was 11×14 10×30″; most of the buyers were either getting gifts or souvenirs. And people buy paintings of what they have experienced, so I do my best to keep things seasonally appropriate.

The pencil commission of the dog was from some old friends, and I am so touched that they still think of me when they have an art need. (“Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold.”)

The pencil commission of a cabin was the biggest thrill, because it came from a stranger who found me through the internet, and a thrill because drawing cabins in pencil is my strongest skill, the thing I enjoy the most. Paintings sell better, so I will continue to paint. One day I might actually have confidence in my abilities in that department. Always practicing, always learning, and hopefully, always improving. . .

Tomorrow: Nine Things Learned in May