I started detailing Jeff’s Garden, the commissioned oil painting, and it is fun!
We left it looking like this:

Then it began evolving. . . (oops, finger partially over the lens in the first photo)



I started detailing Jeff’s Garden, the commissioned oil painting, and it is fun!
We left it looking like this:

Then it began evolving. . . (oops, finger partially over the lens in the first photo)



What’s an “oil garden”?
Glad you asked!
Remember this colored pencil sketch for a commissioned oil painting of someone’s garden? (Let’s call him Jeff, because that is his name.)

Jeff approved of the design for his painting and chose 12×24” for the canvas size. Having realized the benefits of starting with a sketch on an earlier commissioned oil painting,I began a larger sketch in pencil on the canvas.

Then, with paint thinned not quite to dripping, I started filling in all the white, figuring out shapes and sizes of the various items.





That’ll do. I tried to begin some detailing, but it was too wet.
Thinking back to the last oil commission of the blueberry/avocado farm, I remember being very unsure of my abilities and nervous about a successful outcome. As is always the case, it was needless to fret. The success (happy customer) has given me confidence on this one and I am proceeding with an eagerness to get to the details.
Trail Guy has said to me for years, “Success leads to success”. Mike Rowe quotes Robert Frost thus: “Way leads on to way.”
I say “Let’s git ‘er dun!”
The Silver City Store sold two Mineral King oil paintings on opening weekend; a few days later they sold a sequoia tree painted on a wood panel.
Luckily for a future customer, I had one more ready to go. So, on the way up the hill last week, we stopped by to deliver it. While there, I took a few more interior photos. The store is good to me*, and I happily advertise for them.









There was quite a bit of snow in Mineral King when we arrived. Tomorrow’s post will be about that, accelerated to Thursday, because there are too many photos of Mineral King to just confine the topic to Friday’s post.
*Not the actual store, but you know what I mean.
Custom art is an important piece of my art business. There are countless scenes and objects that I’d really enjoy painting or drawing, but in 33 years of earning a living with art, I have come to understand that people want what they want, not necessarily what I want.
Therefore, I make custom art, which is another way of saying that I accept commissions.
An acquaintance (friend of a friend) got in touch via my website to request an oil painting collage of many views of his garden.
I’ve done many pencil collages before, but never one in oil paint. This is going to stretch my design and painting abilities, for certain and for sure.
Here is a look at a pencil collage so you know what is meant by “collage”. It’s not actual cutting and gluing pieces together; instead it is combining multiple pictures into one larger piece.

The potential customer sent me these photos (actually more than this) of his garden. Although nothing stands out to me as a focal point, and I have no plan-view to understand how all the pieces work together, I do understand a person’s love of one’s own garden.






For once in my scattered approach to business, I had the presence of mind to ask for a deposit in order to begin the design phase. In custom art, it’s crucially important to communicate clearly with the customer. It takes several hours of emailing, thinking, studying the photos, and yes, even lying awake at night trying to figure it out. (Hmmm, do you get paid to lie awake at night?)
After the deposit check arrived, I procrastinated for half a day, trying to figure out how to begin. No need to show you all the mental wrangling. Instead, have a look at the sketch, which I started in pencil and then colored in with colored pencils. It looks like a scribbly mess, because it kind of is. However, it doesn’t make sense to perfect something when we are tiptoeing into new territory, unsure of the destination.
The actual sketch is 2-1/2 x 5”, a proportion of 1:2. This will translate into a 10 x 20” or 12 x 24” canvas. (Other sizes too, but I have canvases this size here on hand, ready to go.)

It may look like a mess to you, but I can assure you that the potential customer knows what each item is. He gave me a list of the things that matter to him. I hope this captures the feel and that I can execute this in oil paint.
P.S. The customer emailed yesterday to say he is pleased and to paint it 12×24”!
Ranger Tim replied to the questions I asked after our dam tour. You can see that blog post here: Terminus Dam and Lake Kaweah.

Great Questions!
Thank you, Ranger Tim!

We love the pencil drawing! That is down at the outlet where the water comes out of the 12’9” pipe and flows into the stilling basin.
Thank you, Ranger Tim!

After I got the answers from Ranger Tim, I had more questions. I’ll put those in a blog post tomorrow.

Having finished the oil painting commission, priced paintings and cards to sell at Silver City, all this while believing that I have finished enough paintings for the entire summer (possibly delusional about that), it was time to consider how to next spend my work time.
I pulled weeds at church (not work), oiled the siding on the front of the studio (sort of work), learned to use the new scanner at a minimal level (work requiring enormous patience), worked on art for the 2027 calendar (the best kind of work), and went to a county supervisor candidate meet-up where I had a conversation that led to a pencil commission (marketing work).
The requested subject, Reimer’s, to be redrawn in pencil, is here in Three Rivers. Iit will take a few photo sessions to find the right light without the parking lot full of scene-blocking cars. The customer has granted permission to show progress on the blog.

The original drawing is in a frame somewhere in someone’s home (I hope it isn’t stashed in a storage unit), the printshop that originally printed this on cards is out of business, and the store is under new ownership with some changes. Hence, it is time for a new drawing.
In addition, someone who hired me to edit a very long paper/potential book/article/essay something sent me photos of his garden at its peak and requested a collage type oil painting. I’ve only done collages with pencil, but I am willing to try this design approach in oil paint.

After studying the 10 or so photos that he sent, it became apparent that my laptop screen isn’t up for the task—it’s just too small. So, I put them all on a document, turned it black and white (because my printer isn’t really capable of printing in color without cleaning the heads, running test patterns, and then replacing ink that got used up doing those tasks) and printed it out.
Next, I made a list of everything that is important to the customer. (He is very good at communicating—hence, the successful editing project.)
As I tiptoed ahead on this challenging project, I realized that this is my chance to not be stupidly unbusinesslike. Often I get so caught up in a challenge that I don’t charge for all the extra work, and I rarely remember to get a deposit. This time I let the customer know that the job is in the Think Tank and that I was attaching an invoice for $100 nonrefundable deposit for the design work. It will be applied to the painting, size to be determined.
After work I came home and cleaned up the tail and guts of a squirrel that Tucker caught, nibbled on, and left for Jackson and Pippin to finish. It was seriously disgusting, so instead of showing you that, let’s look at a pencil drawing of a completely intact squirrel.


On an overcast and chilly morning with our final fire of the season in the wood stove, I sat with my laptop and tackled some unpleasant tasks.

2. My printer is one of those 4-way deals: print, scan, copy, and fax. (Fax?? Who does that any more besides medical offices, which I do my best to avoid?) It works as a scanner in a pinch, except that it only handles 8-1/2 x 11” documents and the lid isn’t removable for thick canvases. It is a good printer, but it uses SO MUCH INK. I always check the box for black & white copies, and somehow, the other ink cartridges run low. It is hard to buy only black, and the blue, red, and yellow cartridges appear to be multiplying in the dark while I wait yet again for another overpriced order of black ink. Rip-off.
3. An online printing company is where I get small amounts of notecards printed. In the last handful of years, suddenly they charge sales tax after I have submitted all my resale permit info. I learned that I have to resubmit the same forms, Every Year, Year After Year After Year. So tiresome. OF COURSE they don’t ever receive the email, which necessitates a “chat” or a phone call, where someone keeps reassuring me that they will look into it. The people are nice, and they are helpful, but WHY IS THIS NECESSARY, OVER AND OVER??

4. Someone asked me what other murals I have painted, and I realized that I don’t have them on my website, other than the page “What my customers are saying” or some such thing. So I spent a couple of long sessions make a new mural page, finding, organizing, and posting the photos. No dates or sizes are included. They don’t all show in full, due to my use of “galleries”, which means a cluster of photos with predetermined shapes and sizes. It was kind of cool to realize that I have that many under my belt.
Instead of all this administrative stuff, I just want to paint. Actually I just want to draw. Sure would be nice to have a secretary, administrative assistant, intern, apprentice, servant, butler, lady’s waiting maid, something.
However, then I’d have to work more to pay that person, and I wouldn’t have enough money to pay for all those ink cartridges or a new scanner.
I’ll leave it alone now.

Painting #38 of Tulare County’s best bridge (according by your Central California artist) is inching forward into excellence. Can you see the incremental improvements?





We can probably consider it all finished now, EXCEPT FOR THE BRIDGE ITSELF!
Ahem. Excuse me for shouting. It just surprises me that after I put an enormous amount of concentration and effort into the painting that the most important part remains to be detailed.
Maybe it would be fun if I did a series of posts with all the different versions I’ve painted of this bridge.
But first, this one needs to be finished.
Here is a photo taken with my real camera instead of the inferior phone camera; the colors aren’t as strong, but neither is it as pixelated, which doesn’t matter here on the interwebs.

We call this the Oak Grove Bridge; people who don’t know it very well might call it the Kaweah River Bridge or the Mineral King Road Bridge or the East Fork Bridge. Those names sort of work.
There are folks who, when they see my paintings or drawings of the bridge, say, “I’ve eaten at that restaurant”. They are wrong—the only eatery at the Oak Grove bridge might be the tailgate of one’s pick-em-up truck. The Pumpkin Hollow (“Gateway”) bridge is at the confluence of the East and Middle Forks of the Kaweah River. It isn’t over a deep canyon, just one lane wide, and with a single arch.
See the difference?


Maybe it is time to draw the bridge again in pencil. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve done that; there are only 2 versions in my computer, because so many drawings didn’t get scanned or reproduced or even photographed in my early days.
Such an ugly start.

Let’s git ‘er dun!



Eagle Lake (a painting formerly known as a dog’s breakfast), 7×14”, oil on wrapped canvas, $200, currently drying, destined for the Silver City Store, unless it sells first from this little spot on the interwebs.
The Oak Grove Bridge is a bit more challenging. I started with the attitude of “close enough” and as usual when drawing or painting architectural subjects, I ended up measuring and redoing several things.

The width of each arch needed to be the same, and the top of the bridge was too thick.
So I measured, redrew the arches (yes, with my paintbrush—anyone here have a problem with that?), lowered the top of the bridge, and then planted some manzanita on the lower left. I also started locating various rocks.

You’d think that after painting this forty-eleven* times, I’d have all the rocks and the arch proportions memorized. You’d be wrong in that thinking. I could make it up, but I’d also be wrong.
Such a grand little bridge for our slightly down-at-the-heels Tulare County. There are plans to turn it into a pedestrian-only bridge with a stout replacement safe for driving upstream of this classic one. The county had to do the eminent domain thing to acquire the land, and I have a feeling this will be a long, disruptive, and messy construction project.
Change can be so difficult.
Thus, for now we must enjoy the bridge as it was and as it is, and not think about as it shall be.
*This is actually #38, if I kept count correctly, which is doubtful.
The commissioned painting of fields and groves needed more drying time, so I began a new painting of my favorite bridge—Oak Grove, on the Mineral King Road.

It is always difficult. I make it even harder by choosing canvases of non-traditional proportions. This is 8×16”.

It sometimes helps to crop off the unnecessary parts, making the photo the same proportions as the canvas.

But sometimes I do that too late, and decide to just go with the close-enough approach. Can you see that the bridge takes up more real estate on the canvas than on the photo?

Good enough to start.
Next, a 7×14” canvas for another new painting. It might be too ugly for you to tell what it is going to be.

Jackson doesn’t really care what I paint as long as he gets fed.

These paintings are destined for the Silver City Store this summer. Each year I think I have enough inventory, then around early August, I have to slam some out very quickly. I try to guess what subjects, sizes and quantities will sell, but there are no proven formulas.
P.S. Blog reader/author/artist/friend Louise thought I could do a better job finishing the commissioned oil painting. She always tells me the truth, something I value highly, and she was right. Here it is after I followed her suggestion. It is not in my nature to be a perfectionist; instead, I am always wanting to finish things. So, sometimes it takes an honest and wise second set of eyes to make sure a piece of my art is finished well. THANK YOU, LOUISE!
