A Good Idea

C and Friends, pencil drawing, 11×14, unframed, $200

About 2 weeks ago, I took the brave leap into admitting that I have unsold drawings and that it bothers me. I also admitted publicly that those drawings were heading to the shredder if unsold for another month. This is not something many artists are willing to discuss, but I am not normal. (Thank you for playing along with me as if I am normal – you are very kind.)

Apparently, that was a good idea because almost all of those drawings sold! And there is still time. . . as of the date that I am writing this post, there are a few left that someone is pondering. (Those are labeled “Sale Pending”, as if I am selling real estate.)

Sometimes I go through those flat files and look at the unsold drawings, wonder if I could do any better, alternate between dark thoughts such as “Why bother?” and “But these are good!”. Then I go around and around: Could I have drawn it from another angle? Should it have been cropped differently? Should it not have been cropped? Is the subject irrelevant to my “collectors”? (Why does that word sound so pretentious to me?) Did I not show it to the right people? Who are the right people? Where are they and how do I find them?

Then I shut the drawers and move on.

Telling The Blog about the situation was a good idea. Thank you for listening.

P.S. There are more. Maybe in the future I will have the courage to put them on the auction block (The Blog) or the chopping block (The Shredder).

Cabin Thoughts, Part 2

Mineral King, pencil, framed approximately 14 x 18″, $400 plus tax.

I looked up “cabin” on my Mac. The dictionary on my computer has fairly useless definitions as far as our discussion is concerned.

Cabin may refer to:

  • Beach cabin, a small wooden hut on a beach

  • Log cabin, a house built from logs

  • Cottage, a small house

  • Chalet, a wooden mountain house with a sloping roof

  • Small, remote, mansion (Western Canada)

  • Small, free-standing structures that serve as individual lodging spaces of a motel

Forget that. Where’s my real Webster’s dictionary?? Mine was published in 2004 rather than 1935. Oh good grief, look at this:

A small, simple, one-story house.

Willow Window, pencil. Is this a cabin? Nope, it is a bungalow. But it is a small, simple, one-story house. How do I know? Because I used to live there.
Kitchen Corner, pencil, framed, $150. Is this a cabin? Yep. How do I know? I live there in the summer. But wait! It has 2 stories!

A few folks checked in with their thoughts on what a cabin is. One suggested “primitive”; another said a place to get away from every day life; a third (and someone else I talked to in person) suggests that a cabin is a state of mind, “non-fancy” is a good description, and someone else added in a description of an ideal cabin. She used the word “spare”, which could mean an extra home or it could mean without clutter. (I’ve seen some pretty cluttered cabins, and I have lived in a cabin when it was my only place of residence.)

Come back tomorrow for more thoughts on cabins and cabin life; clearly, there is no clear definition of cabin, but there are many ideas about it. Clearly.

Tough Decision, Part Two

There are many seasoned artists who freely share their experience with other artists. One of the nuggets I’ve gleaned through the years is “Get rid of your junk”. There is no reason to keep things around that do not sell or do not represent your best work.

The Cabins of Mineral King represented my best work in 1998. I draw better now, which is good; I would better have improved over the last 20 years or that would be a sorry situation. (That was an awkward sentence – anyone know a good editor?)

Still, the unsold drawings haunt me, take up space and just need to go away, either through a sale or through a shredder.

Before they go into the shredder, here is a chance for you to own an original pencil drawing for a peanut butter sandwich, as my dad used to say. I will consider offers, as long as they are not insulting.

One month from today, October 7, is the deadline on this batch of drawings.

4-1/2 x 5″, $20, SOLD
6-1/2 x 4″, $25, SOLD
7 x 10″, $90
4-1/2 x 5″, $25, SOLD
4-1/2 x 6-1/2″, $35, SOLD
5 x 7″, $40. SOLD

Tough Decision, Part One

As a full time professional artist since 1993, I have accumulated a pile of work. It is overwhelming at times for several reasons.

  1. If I am looking for something in particular, I have to sift through many other things.
  2. If the flat file drawers get too crowded, some of the paper folds, squishes, migrates to the back of a drawer, or otherwise gets wrecked. I hate it when that happens to an original drawing!
  3. Unsold things haunt and taunt me. They say, “Loser! Poser! Fake artist! No one wants your work!” They are mean, and eventually those mean words work their way into my psyche. (What’s a psyche??)

Therefore, I have made a decision. Unsold and unframed original drawings from The Cabins of Mineral King (published in 1998) have been here long enough. If a cabin owner doesn’t value original art of his cabin, why should I? I have my own preferences and favorites already jamming up my flat files (and they treat me better than those other unsolds).

Before these go into the shredder, I will show them to you and give them one last chance. I might even send out a newsletter to those who might open an email but don’t read the blog. I will tell you the approximate size and the price, and consider all offers (unless they are insulting. The drawings are already insulting me enough, and your Central California artist can only take so much abuse.)

Let’s begin, shall we? If these drawings aren’t sold by October 6, one month away, then say “Hasta la vista, baby”.

 

8-1/2 x 6″, $50, SOLD
8-1/2 x 6-1/2, $55, SOLD
5 x 6-1/2″, $40 SALE PENDING
9 x 12″, $100, SOLD
8 x 11″ – $95, SOLD
7-1/2 x 9-1/2″, $80 SALE PENDING
10 x 11″, $125 SALE PENDING
9 x 11″, $120, SOLD
8 x 12″, $100, SOLD

2019 Calendar Coming

My 2019 calendar will be A Touch of Color. 

It has pencil drawings with, you guessed it, a touch of color. Each subject is something in my life, drawn from my photos (except for one when I didn’t have my camera and a friend came to my rescue.)

Some people who buy my calendars like all the pictures to be a surprise (I’m looking at you, SD). Out of respect for that contingent, I’ll just show you the front cover. To see the back cover, go to the calendar link below.

This year I am not offering an early-bird discount. It is simply $15, which will include tax if you live in California. I will pay the mailing costs.

There will be 100 available. No, make that 99, because I will keep one for myself. Wait – 98! I gave one to my friends who feed my kitties when I am away. Better hurry and order, because there are so many helpful people in my life that I am prone to give calendars to. (Wait – isn’t this supposed to be a business??)

Get your calendars here.

Birthday Drawing

Someone very dear and important to me recently had a birthday. Awhile ago, she sent me a photo of her cat and said she wanted to commission me to draw it. Or maybe she said to paint it. I forget – it has been awhile.

With her birthday coming (do they ever stop coming, faster and faster and even faster??), it seemed like a good idea to draw it for her. I could have painted it, but as you know, I love to draw. Besides, I know she loves drawings, so that was my choice for her cat.

She rescued this guy, perhaps from the middle of a road in the middle of the night. I forget. There have been many. Mr. Mittens is a huge cat with some sort of eating disorder, not uncommon in strays. He also is a polydactyl, which means he has giant multi-toed paws. He also looks like a very large version of my skinny old Perkins. Sigh.

We do love our cats.

Drawing Sawtooth and Listening

Happy Birthday, Carol!

Sawtooth Peak is figuring large in my work life lately. Sometime last week I spent a few days in the studio listening to the reassuring hum of the air conditioner and listening to my own thoughts, and finally, listening to podcasts. This was all to keep me from falling asleep while working on a new pencil drawing of Sawtooth.

While listening to podcasts, I jot notes, and when I take breaks from staring at teensy details through a magnifying glass, I look up things. Gretchen Rubin’s podcast “Happier” mentioned a dish pattern, and something called a “corkicle”. . . had to see those things. She mentioned a writer named May Sarton who has a memoir called Plant Dreaming Deep; of course I had to click on the link to Amazon, then read about it on GoodReads, and finally, look for it in my library’s online catalog system.

Victor Davis Hanson uses big words to convey large ideas, and occasionally I write notes or look up words online when I hear him speak. Usually I just replay his interviews a few times to see if I understand his concepts.

All this listening helps me get through the seemingly endless miniature details of the current drawing.

And in spite of all this listening, learning, and thinking, I still haven’t decided if it is a good thing or a bad thing to put links within my own blog. Perhaps you will be so kind as to let me know if that is helpful or annoying. . .

 

No Head Banging Necessary

My horsey friend didn’t respond to my request for help on the drawing that is too hard; my horsey drawing student did, and we experienced a serious role reversal!

She offered detailed advice and supplied photos to help me understand the things that weren’t visible in my photo.

I followed her instructions as best as I could, and then decided I didn’t care if the horses were rideable or not, had 3 or 6 legs, or if they needed a veterinarian (or an eraser). When I couldn’t think of anything else to fix or change, I scanned it and sent it to her, saying that I’d listen if she had more suggestions that I’d listen but it would be after banging my head on the wall.

Here is what my horsey helpful drawing student/commission coach said:

“Instead of banging your head I think you should sit back with a cold drink and celebrate…this looks REALLY good. I think the recipient will be thrilled. 

While I might have been able to offer suggestions, I definitely could not have drawn this, so my hat is off to you. Well done.”

Lessons are free for her in September when we resume classes.

Phew!!

P.S. Someone else saw the completed drawing and thought the mule’s ears were still too small. Bummer. The drawing is now at the framer, and I am DONE with it.

A Little Bit Too Hard

A dear friend asked me to do something almost impossible. He wanted me to draw something for which he had no photo: the Mineral King Pack Station as it appeared in the 1980s. This was before everyone and his brother carried a camera around, documenting lives as if getting paid for it. (Or is it that people now document their lives because if it isn’t recorded, they aren’t sure it happened??)

I put out the word for help. It took 6 months, but I finally located a photo that I could almost see to draw from. If I knew horses and mules, this might be adequate. Barely. However, there is a lot of detail buried in shadow and the general mushy deterioration of a photo printed on a rough surface about 30 years ago.  

I soldiered on. Gotta start somewhere, so I started with what I know – the mountains in the background. Printing the photo larger after converting to black and white helped somewhat.

Inching along – good thing there is no hard deadline.

Notice the collection of erasers. This is too hard, and a friend who knows horses offered this most welcome advice: “I think the mule may need a bit longer ears still and the dark horse in the front needs a bit of work. His face seems a bit too long and narrow to me and the front hoof seems a bit too big and clubby (that’s what we call hooves shaped like that in the horse world)”. See why I need all these erasers? Very non-forgiving subjects from a very non-visible photo by a very non-horsey artist.

Mineral King Pack station in the 1980s.

I almost finished it but forgot part of a saddle. Forgot? More likely procrastinated, because it was a blob of dark shapes. Regardless of the missing saddle, I scanned it and sent it to another very horsey friend.

I await her counsel as to whether or not these horses can be ridden or if they need a veterinarian or perhaps a bullet.

Wise artists know better than to draw or paint things they don’t know; someone who does know will know that I don’t know. Wise artists know better than to accept commissions for which there are no or poor reference materials.

Kind artists tell their dear friends they will try.

Wise or kind? This is a little bit too hard for me. And,I may not be charging enough. . .

My Favorite Bridge in Oil Paint, Chapter 6

I thought about calling this “Final Chapter”, but I hope I live on to keep painting the bridge and improving with each one.

We made it through about 23 oil paintings of the Oak Grove Bridge. There were repeated views, color adjustments and exaggerations, brighter versions, muted versions, paintings with sharp clean edges, paintings that looked sort of blurry, and the last one from a completely different angle.

Then, I began working on the commissioned oil painting that combines the bridge with Homer’s Nose, a prominent landmark granite rock outcropping. The bridge felt too hard in this one, so I decided to do a smaller version of the exact same view in order to work out some difficulties.

“Difficulties”? I might be a slow learner, or perhaps a bit simple. I’ve painted the thing 23 times and still have difficulties?

Just try to be polite here, ‘kay?

Here is Oak Grove Bridge XXIV in a few steps (although it took many more than a few steps to do this).

As you last saw it. . .
Beginning to tighten things up, like the tree/shrub on the far left that overlaps the bridge, ditto on the right, and adding light and detail to the bridge posts.
A few minor adjustments remain, but it is SOLD!

There were some shenanigans by some hooligans while I was trying to concentrate.

This photo tells me that perhaps when I have finished all the commissioned paintings and drawings, I might do a bit of shelf straightening.