98 visitors, 6 paintings sold, 2 commissions, phew! Very few breaks, great conversation with interesting people – Steve visited China almost 100 times and I could have listened to him for hours, Peg is an Irish citizen, someone else is interested in drawing lessons, TJ showed me a great photo of an old car in a field. . . it was quite a day!
This is the first time in the history of Three Rivers Studio Tour that Friday was included. I had 17 visitors including Cousin Charlotte whom I had met before but had no idea is a Marshburn cousin! I also met Abigail, a 3rd grader who wants to be an artist. When she reported to me that Father John Griesbach allowed her to paint on a painting at St. Anthony’s Retreat, I called her back into the studio to help me with some grasses on a painting. (Me, competitive??) This is how my studio looked before people arrived today.
My studio is in 2 buildings.
This is where I draw and do paperwork and occasionally teach private lessons.
This is inside the original studio, which was a shed for planing wood because the former owner used to make Cuckoo clocks!
This isn’t my real studio but it is the building where I paint. Hunh? Guess you’ll have to attend the Studio Tour, March 19, 20 and 21 to learn about it. But wait! There’s more! See that door with poppies on it? It is now NEW and IMPROVED!
When I participate in various shows, I usually have expectations for great sales. (Optimism is a necessary ingredient for the self-employed.) Sometimes instead of sales, I just have conversations and hand out business cards and meet people. That is called “exposure” in Artland. It is a necessary thing – one needs to be exposed to the public in hopes that they will become the “buying public” someday. However, one can die of exposure, so when one’s career is a bit more established, those exposure events should be limited, in my opinion! Generally speaking I don’t do too many of those types of shows anymore, but Saturday night’s was pleasant despite the low turnout. Met lots of nice people, handed out business cards, sold a handful of paintings. The good news (there is almost always good news) is that I will have plenty of paintings available for The Studio Tour! Here is how my display looked:
The map is too large to put here, so just show up on Saturday at either Anne Lang’s Emporium (open at 9:00? 10:00?) or the Art Co-op (open at 11 a.m.) and get a copy. This month there is a special incentive to visit all the participating places. Each place is worth a certain number of points and there is a wonderful prize!
Did you know that public speaking is most people’s biggest fear, ahead of death? Wow! That isn’t my greatest fear; in fact, I enjoy speaking about my artwork. (Such a narcissistic person!) In the past few years I have been asked to speak for several different groups, most recently on Saturday.The Mineral King Preservation Society had its annual Picnic in the Park. A historic person, Mary Trauger, spoke first and filled us in on life during the mining days. Then a current person, me, spoke about the Mineral King Mural. Despite the bridge being closed, there was a great turnout! Look at these folks:
We dodged the rain bullet – a few drops, but nothing measurable. I forgot to say that my paintings were for sale! What a missed opportunity, but Exeter, A Festival of Arts did quite well on the mugs, mouse pads and tee-shirts! 😎 I make funny faces when I talk, but we all had a good time!
Wow, that was a great turnout last night! Thank you for coming! Those who came heard that there are 12 hidden things but only were shown 4 of them. They also learned of the 2 dumbest questions and the 3 most annoying comments. I could have gone on about the mural for 3 hours, but it was kind of hot out and the food would have run short before I got any. (no starving for this artist!) Wish I had had the opportunity to speak with every one there and name each person who helped make the mural happen. There will be a little 3-dimensional effect, and possibly a larger 3-dimensional effect. More will be revealed. Meanwhile, have a look at some hidden items:
You probably can tell the first is a coffee pot; the second is NOT a purse but a fishing creel; the third is NOT Sasquatch but a running girl. She isn’t fat – that is her sweatshirt billowing. She isn’t holding a scarf – that is my attempt to blend her into the snow patches in a natural manner.
. . . is sold out! If you are one of the lucky ones to have a ticket to this very enjoyable event, you will not be sorry. The Garden Parties I’ve been to in the past have been wonderful – nice evening outside in Exeter (no mosquitos there!), good food, great auction items, nice music, fun conversations, all around very pleasant evening.This will be auctioned off. I will probably have my hands over my ears, or perhaps my thumb will be in mouth.
It is an 8×10 oil painting on wrapped canvas with no frame. The title is Honeymoon Cabin III or perhaps Honeymoon Cabin IV. The money will go Exeter, A Festival of Arts. This is the only place I give artwork!
This is the crowd shuffling back down the hall as the party was over. The conversations were so much fun. I heard people going on about the bathrooms (“Fine facilities!” in a very Southern accent), talking about how many paper napkins with the White House emblem that they stuffed in their purses, and the cameras never stopped snapping. (In 2007, people took photos with cameras, not phones. I still do.)
We were very reluctant to leave, as were most of the guests. It was all such a beautiful fantasy, and it was hard to believe it was over so quickly. While I changed from my useless high heels to a pair of walking shoes, Michael made friends with Jeff, a Secret Service guy:
He showed him the photos of meeting the President in Sequoia in 2001 and referred to him as “Dubya”. I said, horrified, “Michael! They probably don’t call him that here!!” Jeff said, “Actually, we call him Forty-three”. Isn’t that a hoot?
There are many many layers of security around the White House, several different fences and gates to pass through before emerging onto Pennsylvania Avenue. Here is one last glance back:
I think I stood on a bench for this one. (It was safe – my high heels were in my oh-so-dorky-with-dress-up-clothes trusty red backpack). There was a fence separating us from the White House and another fence separating us from outside the White House.
Our next mission was to locate a Metro Station and figure out how to get back to Alexandria, where we had a 19 block walk back to Janey’s (see why I brought normal shoes with me?) Michael was a little uneasy with this, but since I had just been in China, I knew this would be a piece of cake. Why? Because everyone spoke English here AND we could read the signs. So, that is my story of the ornament. One last thing: have a look at the little item that gave me this adventure!
You used to be able to view all the ornaments but that webpage has expired. It is interesting to note that no where were the artists mentioned, only the National Parks that we represented. And we were instructed to not use our designs commercially—no reproductions, no advertising saying “as designed for the White House”. Since then,I have made more ornaments, although none identical. Besides, I paint better now.
A note about getting “gussied up”. . . I faxed the White House a second time to ask about the dress code. Here in Tulare County, “dressed up” means that I iron a polo shirt for Michael to wear with decent jeans. “Formal” means his best Wranglers, boots, and a “sport” jacket. (“Sport?” What, is he going to play basketball??) Really really formal means a tie with the formal ensemble. So the White House returned my fax with a phone call, and I was told in no uncertain terms (in a nasally whiny tone) that “No denim is allowed on the compound”. This meant a major shopping expedition for Michael.
Me? I found a $3 blue velveteen jacket at the local thrift shop, and since I have enough clothing for a small third world nation of short women who wear their skirts too long, this was adequate to complete an outfit for me.
We arrived in style at the White House, and joined the queue to be officially identified as invited guests. Everyone was excited, dressed up, and friendly. We finally got inside the White House itself and began the shuffle down a long hall. Everything was interesting, everyone was nice, every moment was fun! (incidentally, there were 2 men at the reception wearing blue jeans. Michael asked one of them how he got away with that, and the guy said ,”I don’t dress up for nobody”. Apparently he doesn’t bother with proper English either.)
I could go on and on about the details, but will try to contain my enthusiasm. (You realize that I really don’t get out much so this was over-the-top exciting.)
Here is a photo of the East Room where the reception was:
Outstanding food, truly outstanding! Incredible to be there, really.
Here is the podium where Laura Bush spoke:
We were too short and too far back in the crowd to see her. I was wearing my highest heels, to no avail other than killing my feet, and this was many years before the words “peripheral neuropathy” ever entered my lexicon.
This is the tree in The Blue Room. It was 18′ tall, and my ornament was placed in a perfect spot. Lower right is the back of the head of the woman guarding the tree on the side where my ornament hung. My ornament doesn’t show in this blurry photo—clearly I was a little too wound up to take proper photos.
Here is the view from the Blue Room where we were all standing around in shock and awe:
Suddenly, the carriages turned to pumpkins. Everywhere we looked, a uniformed guard was saying, “This way please”. That had to have been the quickest 2 hours of my life! to be continued. . .
