“Commission” means someone is paying me to paint custom art for him. Them. Her. Shhhh, I think it will be a Christmas present.
Let’s call the customer Mister. You can decide if it is a man, a woman, or several humans. Mister decided on 20×20”, a square format. The canvas arrived, and I put a very thin coat of paint on it.
This is the version of the requested scene. Yes, it is Mineral King, and that is Trail Guy for size reference.
No wonder my laptop gets splatters on the screen.
Here is the beginning. The photo says “Yellow Tunnel” but Mister is requesting the tunnel to be green.
That’s as far as I got. When it dries, I’ll put in a better sky and a better West Florence (that’s the peak on the left side of Farewell Gap.)
In case you are curious, I painted the tunnel in the green season several years ago. (If it feels like three years, it was probably six.)
Heh-heh, it was actually just five years ago. I think I paint better now. Sure hope so, otherwise I am One Stuck Central California artist. Gotta keep improving. . . always. And don’t give me this “your own worst critic” stuff either, because if I’m not, how will I get better?
And that’s all I’ve got to say about that. For now.
Check out work by two of my drawing students. The first one is finished, and the second one is in progress.
I teach people how to put on paper exactly what they see. It is the beginning of all art, in my opinion. (If a person can only see it in his mind, I cannot help with that.)
Lessons are $60/month, one hour per week with other people, all of whom are learning too, all at different levels of skill. I don’t know where you’ll ever find a better group of people to spend an hour with each week—the friendships grow, the encouragement flows, and we laugh a lot too.
We don’t draw together in December, July, or August. You are welcome to stop by and see what it is like!
Tuesday afternoons, 2-5:30, CACHE, 125 South B Street, Exeter
Trail Guy nailed some boards together for me several years ago, and I painted redwood trees on them. We got on a roll, and he pounded a few more of these panels together, but sales slowed and I moved on. We were cleaning out an area in the workshop and 2 of these appeared. I delivered one to Stem & Stone, where it adds attention-getting eye-appeal to the store front.
Screenshot stolen from Stem & Stone’s Instagram
The other needed some reworking. It was made from fence pickets. I painted a single tree in the middle, and it looked as if someone with a vee-shaped mouth took a bite from the top. Alas, I took no photos of the previous awkwardness.
Feel like watching paint dry? Here you go:
Greatly improved.
P.S. It’s not a mural, but I did use mural paints instead of oils.
I guess you could draw with chalk or a paintbrush or your finger on a fogged up window, but drawing with pencils is what I do.
Student work
It’s also what I teach. A returning drawing student had one month free for lessons before embarking on a new chapter of life. We dove right in, and she stayed for several hours each time rather than the normal one hour weekly lesson. The final one took place in my studio, which is where we started about 12 years ago when she was a wee fourth grader. I made an exception to my usual 6th grade minimum age requirement because she was an exceptional child and private lessons meant much more help and attention.
Here’s a drawing she did in about 5th grade.
Here is the drawing she just completed.
She has become an exceptional adult. To quote another one of my drawing students who has known her through the years, “She’s all that AND a bag of chips!”
Protecting identity, because this IS the World Wide Web.
Central Calif. Artist Work
This is a commissioned pencil drawing I finished in July. I haven’t posted it because I didn’t know if the intended recipient reads my blog. (If you recognize yourself, please pretend to be surprised when you receive the drawing!)
Cats in the house
HEY! WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN WEASEL YOUR WAY INTO OUR HOUSE??
Five of these pencil drawings sold at my solo show in Tulare, “Around Here (and Sometimes a Little Farther)”. The others were pencil commissions, which I showed you with all the slow developments in painstaking detail.
I almost didn’t include this one in the show because I forgot. I may have forgotten subconsciously on purpose, due to my inordinate love of ocean scenes.
I drew this one specifically for the show, and although sales are thrilling, I was sort of hoping to keep it. (What kind of a business person am I with this attitude?)
This is too big for my scanner, so the photograph isn’t the quality of those shown above. HOWEVER, the drawing was quite excellent, if I do say so myself, which I just did say.
Same disclaimer on quality as above.
I love pencil. Did you know that?
Thus we conclude another post about the business of art, because. . .
Using pencils, oil paint, and murals, I make art that you can understand of places and things you love for prices that won’t scare you.
The plan was to finish the 10×30” commissioned oil painting of the two redwood trees. When I set up in the painting workshop, it looked too hard and too big and too daunting. So I indulged in some productive procrastination, opting instead to finish the plein air painting of the pumpkin field.
This meant that I added a few blossoms, detailed some foreground leaves, and signed the painting. Since it is too wet to scan, here is the photograph, which include shiny spots.
No, no, no, REALLY, it looks so much better in person! And it might be a bad idea to title it “Pumpkin Patch” since no pumpkins are visible. Besides, Mrs. Texas and I thought it was a field of summer squash for a few months.
Never mind. Let’s return to our twin redwoods, Sequoia Sisters, Sequoia Siblings, Aunt Tillie & Uncle Pete, Two Sisters. The last title is the real one, because my boss chose it. Who is my boss? Mrs. Customer, of course!
The upper mid section of greenery and trunk was lacking in detail. Mrs. Customer also requested to see some flowing water into the trough, along with a few wildflowers.
The water really flummoxed me because it flows in a little ravine, not right at the surface where it is visible. So, on the way up the hill recently, the idea of a waterfall came to me. On the way down the hill, we did a drive-by shooting of the waterfall. I’ve circled it and messed with the contrast so you can get an idea of what I am working with.
First, I had to paint out the fake-looking stream that I put down in order to force myself to address the issue. Buh-bye, little fake stream. You can see that there are boulders indicating a stream flowing into the trough. However, there isn’t room for a believable waterfall.
Oops, too small to see. Here is a close-up of the bottom left corner.
Allrighty then, let the water fall, and let the lupine bloom!
Will Mrs. Customer approve? (I signed it anyway. . . always hoping for the best.)
Why two photos of the (hopefully) finished commissioned oil painting? Because I photographed one with my inferior phone camera and one with my little Canon Elph, which probably is also inferior compared to most people’s phones. This will be an enormous challenge to photograph. When it is dry, I’ll tackle that aspect of the job. Or, more accurately, after Mrs. Customer is pleased and it is dry, then I will take on that challenge.
P.S. I like this painting a lot. Thank you, Mrs. Customer for commissioning a subject that I’ve never done for some odd reason!
We had an overcast day, with the typical over-promise-and-underdeliver weather forecast of rain. Oh well, at least we didn’t have lightning to worry about.
Since it was too dark to paint, I spent my working hours in the studio, drawing this pencil commission piece.
The approved sketch
The beginning
Sometimes this feels as if I am racing along at a good pace; other times it seems that I sit and stare without a clue as to how to proceed. The difficulty is the same as the Texas drawing: combining many photos into one (hopefully) coherent and believable scene.
I’ve been drawing agriculture subjects for so many years that I have forgotten many of them. I didn’t used to be diligent in photographing my work, back in the days of film cameras, weak copy machines, no home scanners or computers, and certainly no Photoshop.
An old friend sent me this card, which I wrote to her and her husband in 2001 (along with a sweet note because that is just how she is). When I flipped the card over, I saw that I titled the drawing “Tulare Cownty” and included a completely unfamiliar phone number with a 703 area code.
That was many studio locations ago. I’ve been working from home since 2002, and life has changed significantly in many ways.
One constant is still drawing agricultural scenes with pencils. Glad we can count on something to hold steady.
With two Giant Sequoias to paint, I chose to finish, nay, ALMOST finish the painting I started in Gilroy. Why not the Sequoia paintings first? Because I missed Mrs. Texas after spending so much time together.
I think it might need a blossom or two and better definition on the closer leaves.
Because I was painting two at the same time of the same scene, and they are the same proportions, I can’t tell which photos are which paintings. So, no in-progress shots today, just a beginning and an end of the day photo of each.
The small one (6×18”)
The 10×30” painting.
This one is too tall to reach the top when it is sitting on the table-top easel, so I worked on the lower part first, then flipped it upside down to work on the top. The middle section isn’t finished.
The painting isn’t finished. I sent a photo to the customer so she can tell me if I need to add, change, or delete anything.
I am just a hired brush, using oil paints to make art that my customers can understand of places they love for prices that won’t scare them.
Mrs. Texas is at the edge of a pumpkin patch, a big “patch”. Okay, a pumpkin field. We mistakenly thought it was summer squash, that yellow crookneck stuff that prompted a friend of mine to say, “‘Squash’ is the past tense of ‘squish’, and ‘squish’ is not a food.” (Right on, Ben!) But pumpkins? Yes!
I took many photos, trying to see what was most pleasing. Some I took in the morning, some in the evening, some with the inferior phone camera, some with the little Canon Elph camera.
I took many more photos, and will show those next post. Meanwhile, let’s continue with the plein air process.
First, some sketches. Super scribbly, but good enough to make a decision.
Good enough for now. This took about 1-1/2 hour, and definitely needs more layers and detail. I might work on it in the painting workshop when/if the commissions get finished.
Wait, they WILL get finished. I mean if there is a gap before more commissions arrive.
Sequoias, Redwoods, Big Trees, Sequoia gigantea—all these words mean the trees which gave Sequoia National Park its name. Paintings of these trees sell very steadily to the visitors in our area. Sometimes it feels a little boring to keep painting the same things over and over.
When that feeling comes upon me, I think of three things: 1. I’d rather paint another sequoia tree than be a waitress; 2. Here is a chance to test and hopefully improve my skills as a painter; 3. Here is a chance to force myself to do something I don’t want to do and build more character. (COME ON, I’M ALMOST 66, CAN’T I BE DONE WITH CHARACTER YET??)
It is time for another 6×18″ painting of a Sequoia gigantea. That’s kind of a yawn for me.
It is also time for a 10×30” of a pair of redwood trees, known as Redwood Canyon, Two Sisters, and Aunt Tillie & Uncle Pete. (I’m quoting some former cabin neighbors who actually said this is how they refer to the pair of redwoods about 8 miles below Mineral King.) This one is a good challenge—big enough to really get in the detail that floats my boat, and figuring out how to put in the parts that are important to the customer while making it look believable in spite of the fact that I have to do a bit of squishing and fabricating. (Yeah, yeah, I know— “artistic license”.)
Shut up, Central California Artist, and show us some pictures!
Because the same colors are in both paintings (duh), it was easy to put them on side-by-side easels and slam out the first messy layer. Sometimes this is fun; sometimes it is just an obstacle until I get to do the details. Doesn’t matter—see reason #3 above. (Actually, it was the 2nd messy layer, the first one being a thin coating of unrecognizability.)
Yeppers, upside down. Otherwise it was too hard to reach the sky on the 30” canvas while it sat on the table.
The sketch is what I showed to the 10×30 customer. It is efficient to practice the same scene smaller in case I need to work out some design bugs. One will go to a longtime friend (the 10×30) and the other to a stranger just passing through town. (Who knows? maybe the stranger will someday become a friend too.)
Don’t be scared. I can make them both look good.
After the paintings got this far, I left them in the workshop to dry while I returned to the studio to work on the second pencil commission.
