So Proud of my Drawing Students

For 30 years, I have been helping people learn to draw. The classes are small: 4-8 people together for an hour per week, each one working on his own work at his own pace. It has become the highlight of my art business, a chance to connect with fabulous people, sharing tips and encouragement with one another, becoming friends, and becoming artists. Some people start out knowing a little bit, and others begin knowing nothing. All learn, except those who quit too soon.

Someone drew this in pencil; my most experienced student borrowed the same photo and drew it in colored pencil.
This drawing is a significant location in this student’s life and the photo was TERRIBLE. Somehow we found our way through it to completion. Nice job, RN!
This duck was drawn from a photo I took while painting murals at Mooney Grove Park. My student was feeling down over some tough things in life, and I thought this goofy guy would lift her spirits. She named the drawing “George the Duck”, and it did lift her spirits.
My student only had a poor photo of this odd little barn as it looks now, and wanted to draw it the way she remembered it from childhood. It was a real challenge to crawl into her memory with her and figure out how to make this make sense, but we did it!!
Kelvin found a picture of Moro Rock taken by a drone (How? Aren’t those things illegal in National Parks?) We spent quite a bit of time contemplating whether or not he would be putting miniature people on top. You can see that he did a spectacular job!

Lessons happen on Tuesday afternoons in Exeter. My classes are full, but if four people who are all available from 1-2 p.m. get on a waiting list, I will add another class. Cost is $60 per month plus supplies. We don’t meet in December, July, or August.

Finished Pencil Drawing of a Cabin

I sure do know how to stretch a story out. . . have you noticed how many people use the cliché “long story short”, and then proceed to make a short story even longer? I am sort of doing that here, except I break it into chapters for you, because of another cliché that applies to many blog posts: TLDR (Too long, didn’t read).

Here is scanned Minnesota cabin drawing before I scrubbed it up on Photoshop Junior.

Here it is converted to gray scale with all the chuds erased and the paper color also erased. Chuds are marks on the scanning bed—this word came from the days when I worked in a frame shop. Sometimes after you’d get a piece of art all sealed up under the mat and frame and backing, with paper secured over the back, you’d flip it over and there would be a little something under the glass. My co-workers called these little somethings “chuds”.

A few more thoughts. It was a thrill to have a stranger find me over the interwebs, because people are always contacting me to say that my Google ratings are too low and that they can help me. (No thanks, you creepy Stalking Strangers; how did you find me on Google if my ratings are too low??)

The customer was a pleasure to deal with. She mailed a check when I told her that PayPal takes a bite, she replied quickly when I asked for more information, and she even marked up the photos so I would know who was on first and what was on second.

Alas, I learned something the hard way. A few months ago, I raised my prices for pencil drawings. It had been years (decades??), and it just seemed like a wise move. BUT I DIDN’T RAISE THEM ON MY WEBSITE. Sigh.

Someone could use a business manager, an administrative assistant, a Girl Friday, a right-hand man. Hmm, I guess that’s the problem: my man is left-handed!

P.S. If you are curious about my prices, you can see them here: Pencil Drawing Prices. I only show the smallest and the largest, because sometimes it is all just too much information and too much work. (I’d rather be drawing.)

Drawing a Cabin in Pencil, 2

The Minnesota customer replied quickly and thoroughly to my inquiry about the two different versions of the cabin. I couldn’t tell if there were actually two gable ends, slightly different, or if some changes had been made. She said the cabin has been a work in progress and changes get made regularly. The three rows of shingles beneath the upper gable window is the most current. She also sent this helpful set of color coded photos.

We had a rainy day, which is perfect for drawing. I went to the studio where the distractions are limited and the heater works well, and was psyched for a day of pencil, my favorite art medium, drawing a cabin, my favorite type of subject.

See the edge of my laptop? There is NO WAY I could have done this almost impossible drawing with this degree of detail without viewing the photos on my laptop. I lightened the shadows of the very dark places, enlarged the photos enormously, and even flipped the summer view of the gable end horizontally so I didn’t have to guess how all the angles would look. You can see the potential for tying one’s brain in a knot here:

This view points right.
This view points left.

I worked from top to bottom, left to right. This is the best method for a right-hander to not smear. (Left handers can work top to bottom, right to left.) Actually, smearing happens anyway, but it is less of a problem when the paper is covered in this systematic method.

And, I finished the drawing!

Come back tomorrow if you want to see it. Same Bat time, same Bat channel. (I never actually watched Batman because we only got 2 channels, not the third one that had Batman on.)

Drawing a Cabin in Pencil

Which of the three sketches of a Minnesota cabin did the two sisters choose?

They chose A! (The exclamation mark is because that was the one I was hoping for.)

I cropped all the extraneous cold stuff. The sisters asked if I could show a bit more porch, and the best I could say was, “I’ll try.” There just wasn’t much to work with.

I spent an entire hour struggling to place the cabin so that there would be room for part of the wings on either side of the gable, in order to squeeze in a hint of the porch. It took a very long time to get the angles exactly right. This sounds excessive, but architectural subjects are not forgiving, and if you don’t get the skeleton down correctly, the parts don’t fit.

Finally, I was able to begin. (The picture of the drawing below is accidentally cropped—it actually has a 1″ margin around the image on this sheet of 9×12″ archival smooth expensive paper.)

Oh no! When I look at the photo I am using, the window size in the winter photo doesn’t quite match the summer photo that shows the gable end. Further, on the summer view of the gable end, there are 3 rows of shingles beneath the upper window.

Time out. I need some instructions, please!

So, I emailed the sisters.

What happened next??

Tune in tomorrow. . .

Cabinart = Art of a Cabin

Drawing cabins in pencil is the way I started my art business. Now I spend 90% of my artmaking time as an oil painter, so when I get asked to draw a cabin, I am really happy about it!

Someone from Minnesota found me on the internet and asked if I could draw her parents’ cabin in spite of not having clear photos of the entire structure. I told her to send them to me, and I’d see if I could make sense of the photos.

Want to see the pictures she sent?

I knew you’d be interested.

(Pay no attention to the purple lines)

These presented a real challenge. I did three little sketches and emailed the potential customer. She was delighted, and asked me to wait for an answer (yep, dealing with a deadline here) because she needed to consult with her sister.

Which one did they choose?*

Tune in tomorrow. . .

*If you read my blog on April 11, you know the answer to this question.

Some flowers, a painting, and a lost and found sketch

A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I decided to ride bikes in Lemon Cove, because there are flat roads down there. We parked at the Lemon Cove Woman’s Club (I think that is the odd way the name is spelled), and we were just slayed by the orange blossom scent and the incredible Lady Banks rose at the clubhouse.

As wonderful as it all was, it was still a workday, so we headed back up the hill (in a car with a bike rack—remember, we were seeking flat roads to ride.)

Kaweah Arts sold a painting on their opening weekend, and I needed to replace it.

Sequoia Siblings, 6×18″
No, really, it will be good!

It was a bit of an overcast and chilly day, so I moved into the studio to begin a commissioned pencil drawing. (I’ll tell you more about this one later, as the details unfold.)

After studying 5 not-so-great photos, I made 3 sketches for the customer to determine if I could capture the Minnesota cabin for her parents’ anniversary gift. Then, I lost the sketches. Good thing I scanned them —HEY! I BET THEY ARE IN MY SCANNER!!

YIPPEE SKIPPEE, SURE ENOUGH THEY WERE!

Alrighty then, let’s just calm down. I worked off the laptop to start the drawing (because I couldn’t find the sketches).

About an hour later of checking angles, drawing, measuring, erasing, and repeating the dance several times, I ended up with this mighty impressive foundational drawing.

Gotta draw the dog before you draw the fleas. . . and this dog has many challenges. Never fear—I am up to the task.

Drawing in Pencil for the Joy of It

A few months ago I started this pencil drawing, simply for the joy of drawing (and to prove to my drawing students that I can draw). I worked from photos that I took in Mineral King last fall. The light, Audra’s hat, the lack of dealing with a face or an actual complete horse all caught my interest, along with the dynamics between the woman and the horse.

This horse was the last one to get loaded for transport down the hill. Audra was so patient, just waiting for this recalcitrant horse to follow her into the trailer. “Recalcitrant” because he spent most of the summer outside the corral with a couple of mules. The others just watched while staying in the boundaries. Then, sure enough, this guy was not interested in joining the herd to head down for the winter.

Because the hat seemed to be the most important part, I started with it. If I can’t get the most important part to look right, there’s no need to waste time on the rest of the picture.

I had a little bit of difficulty with some of the shapes, so I made corrections and showed those to my students to demonstrate how to repair problems (and to stay humble). But I didn’t photograph the corrections—they were for my drawing students to learn from. (Do you want lessons? I have a waiting list, and you are welcome to get on it!)

Drawing lessons were suspended in December, because that’s the way we roll. I was occupied with many things, some work-related (painting, blogging, participating in a little bazaar, resupplying my vendors, filling calendar orders, sending Christmas cards to my students, sending out 2 newsletters—are you on that subscription list? —planning a solo show for Autumn 2024, ordering supplies, doing some year-end bookkeeping) and some non-work-related (you don’t need a list of this stuff).

As you have recently read here, I was a little flummoxed by how to proceed on several paintings, so I used the excuse that it was too cold to paint in the workshop and went into the studio to finish this drawing. (I love to draw in pencil—did you know that?)

Because I wasn’t showing my drawing students along the way, I didn’t photograph or scan any of the rest of the steps.

Here it is almost complete. “Almost”?? Yeppers, because when I scan it, the white paper scans as gray, and the pencil has a brownish cast.

This is unacceptable, so I use Photoshop Junior (actually Photoshop Elements) to erase the margins.

The drawing is simply titled “Audra”, not “A Girl and Her Horse” (she’s a grown woman and it ain’t her horse), not “Big Hat, No Cattle”(no cattle in Mineral King because it is National Park, not National Forest) or “Wranglers Are For Women Too”. . . wait, that one is pretty cute. Maybe it should be called “Wranglers Aren’t Just For Cowboys”.

Nah, the hat is more important.

Victory Tomatoes

My drawing of tomatoes is completed. Carrie Lewis asked for a paragraph of 100 words or less to accompany the drawing. Here is what I submitted.

Gardening feels like a war. We planted many tomatoes in an enclosed area, protected underneath from gophers, on all sides from deer, and over the top from birds*. We faithfully watered and fertilized all summer. Finally, in mid-October, we began getting tiny cherry tomatoes, many no more than 1/2” in diameter. Every tomato felt like a victory, so I took photos of them as proof that we had actually grown some food.

This was not for a competition. It is just a submission to Carrie’s magazine (digital rather than print) called CP Magic, which is all about colored pencil. Colored pencil is not my main medium, as you know, but Carrie is a friend, and I wanted to participate simply because sometimes it is fun to try different things.

*After I wrote this, I realized that we had left the tomatoes exposed to the birds. I meant to put mesh on top but just never got to it.

Happy Birthday, Trail Guy! (all those years are also a victory)

Suddenly Felt Like Drawing

If you receive this in your email and want to see the photos, click on the title.

My friend Carrie Lewis is fully immersed in colored pencil. At the end of December, she put out a call to artists for their best colored pencil work from 2023. I realized that I had done none all year, but suddenly, I had an overwhelming desire to work in colored pencil. It might have been related to working on multiple paintings that felt too hard for me, wanting to do something easier.

After looking through my photos for something that I could easily complete in the one week remaining in 2023, I chose this photo of our little tomatoes. (Small garden, small crop, even smaller fruit).

I chose Strathmore 500 series Bristol vellum paper. (Won’t mean a thing to most of my readers, but it helps me remember in case Carrie wants to know). In looking at my extensive collection of colored pencils, I decided to keep things simple, so I chose Blackwing Colors, a set of 12. Yeppers, only 12 colors. (For a short time, they offered a set of 24, but as a never-early-adopter of anything, I missed it.)

First I drew the tomatoes. In keeping with the desire for simplicity, I didn’t draw all of the tomatoes in the photo, so it was ready for color very quickly.

To make the darker and shaded reds, I used purple and brown beneath the red. To brighten the red in some places, I used orange and pink beneath the red. I used many layers of red in both instances, keeping a very sharp point (on all the pencils).

It didn’t take long to for the red pencil to get used up. Of course, if the last 3 inches hadn’t been broken inside, I could have kept using it. I don’t remember dropping it, but I could have. New pencils are always a bit of a thrill. (Don’t tell me to get a life—this is my life and it’s a fine one!)

Better add the shadows so the ‘maters aren’t just floating. I used purple and brown, but I may try that silver pencil (or is it gray?) over the top to smooth it out. Later.

That was decent start. The daylight was running out and my feet were cold, but I did one more little thing before calling it a day: I smoothed and sharpened all the edges of the tomatoes.

What’s left: finish the background, correct the color on the stems, fill in tomato color more to get rid of the white specks, sign, and scan.

The Business of Art: Notecards

“Margaret’s Poinsettia, package of 4 cards and envelopes, 4.6×7.2”, $20. Inside message: Wishing you Christmas joy and blessings in the new year!

Through the years I have designed, printed and sold hundreds, nay, THOUSANDS of little cards. “Notecards”, as I refer to them, are perfect to say “thank you”, “hi”, “just one more thing”, “I appreciate you”, or even “I’m sorry”. If you write real big, you can get by with just one sentence.

“Sun Kissed”, pencil and colored pencil drawing, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, blank inside, $10

Designs come and go; sometimes I redraw something and then get rid of the older version. Other times, it seems as if a design has run its course and needs to be retired. Sometimes I have too much inventory, so I let a design run out for awhile. And sometimes a design that really grabs me just doesn’t speak to the buying public.

“Oak Grove Bridge #28″, oil painting, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2”, blank inside, $10

I used to sell my cards in many stores around the county. Most of those stores are now closed. Even if the stores were still around, my costs are so high that if I sell them at a wholesale price to a retail store, there is zero profit for me. This means that I am working for free. That’s just dumb business.

Sawtooth and wildflowers, pencil and colored pencil drawing, package of 4 cards and envelopes, blank inside, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, $10

Nowadays I sell the cards here on my website, occasionally when I do a bazaar or if I am having an art showing or exhibit (what’s the diff? I dunno), and on consignment at a very few places. “Consignment” means that they pay me after the cards sell, which means a lot of checking in, rewriting lists to keep current on supplies, making bills, sending the bills, paying attention to what has sold and what needs to be restocked.

Farewell Gap in Mineral King, pencil drawing, package of 4 cards and envelopes, blank inside, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, $10

It’s all part of the business of art, which involves many decisions. Most of those decisions would be better if I had a crystal ball. Lacking that, I look at the history of sales, look at the current economy, look at the venue and think about the customers. If consignment, I look at the store’s record of payment, if the cards are getting shopworn and need to be repackaged, or if the store hasn’t been displaying the cards in a manner that the customers can see them.

“Sawtooth”, oil painting, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, blank inside, $10

The business of art is a complex and delicate blend of science, art, and guesswork.