Name That Barn

barn oil painting by Jana Botkin
Unnamed Barn, formerly known as Tulare County Barn, 10×10″ oil painting on wrapped canvas

 

The names have poured in (38 at the time of this writing). I will accept more today, but starting tomorrow I will have to squinch my eyes shut, put my hands over my ears, and loudly recite, “LALALALALALA”.

Then, I will pick one. Or a group of names. Or make up a new one from bits and pieces. Or narrow it down to the top three and put it out for a vote.

Then I will enter the Celebrate Agriculture with the Arts in Madera, informally known as the Ag Art Show. This is an online process with yet another user name and password. The poor old geezers back in the day when this barn was built just had to slog along with pencil and paper and the U.S. Postal Service. Those old guys probably only got to have passwords when they were kids, out playing games in barns like this one!

 

 

The Nature Trail, Mineral King

Doesn’t “Nature Trail” sound silly and simple? I’ve pondered it for years and never come up with a better name.

The Nature Trail is about 1 mile long and goes from the upper end of the Cold Springs Campground to the Mineral King Valley.

The trail has a huge variety of things to see – aspen trees, little signs telling about various things along the way, the stream, a variety of flowers, a view of the road, a forested section, a view of Sawtooth, a desert-like area, a view of Timber Gap, and a section that passes through the historic cabins.

The lower end of the Nature Trail in Mineral King, at the upper end of the Cold Springs Campground
Through the aspen trees on the Nature Trail
Wild Geranium on Nature Trail

 

The Nature Trail goes close to the east fork of the Kaweah River, with Indian Paintbrush in abundance.
There are great views of Sawtooth Peak along the Nature Trail.

 

The Nature Trail takes you through a forested section of red firs and lodgepoles, called “tamaracks” by Cowboy Bert.
At the upper end of the Nature Trail is an unobstructed view of Timber Gap and the historical cabins.
Don’t bring your dog on the Nature Trail!

Name This Painting. . .

. . . and the chosen titler will receive a token of my appreciation! (That means a prize, but not a huge one.)

Unnamed Barn, formerly known as Tulare County Barn, 10×10″ oil painting on wrapped canvas

You might remember this painting from last year’s show called Images of Home. It was titled “Tulare County Barn”, because the show was about Tulare County images. Duh.

This painting will be entered in the Madera Ag Art Show. Madera is 2 counties away. (They might not even know how to pronounce “Too-Larry” there!)

Titles matter. particularly in a juried (Shall we let this piece in our show?) and judged (Hmmm, that looks like a first place!) show.

The last time I entered the show, you helped me name my pencil drawing of a barn and tractor. Your choices were wonderful, better than what my mind could conceive.

Will you help me choose the new title for this painting? The suggester of the winning title will receive a prize. Haven’t decided what. I should be able to figure that out on my own. . .

THANK YOU, THANK YOU in advance for your help!

Contests need deadlines – how about July 18? That’s a Wednesday. 

Trip-trip-tripping along

The triptypch of Washington tulip fields does not have a deadline. Why should a California artist be painting Washington tulip fields? Because sometimes an artist just has to follow her heart.

Other paintings do have deadlines, so these just get fit into the painting schedule as there are opportunities. Specifically, this is when everything else is too wet to work on, or too dang hard. (see Monday’s post. . . sigh)

The top one is almost finished. When I look at it in bright light, I see parts that could be improved.

The middle piece is still needing more definition.

The bottom piece is clearly in its infancy. Oh, sweet baby tulips. . . sigh of happiness. This takes a bit of the sting out of Put-My-Parents-In-The Painting.

Random Comments About the Business of Art

This list of comments was started just after Mother’s Day weekend, when I was recovering from the Redbud Festival. Now that I read them after a snowy Memorial Day weekend, I’m slightly climatically confused. Just sayin’ (which is the popular vernacular that means “I talk to hear the sound of my own opinions”)

  • It is hard to do weekend festivals and really hard to do shows when it is hot and REALLY hard to do shows with low attendance. But I’m merely commenting, not complaining.
  •  Kodak’s online gallery is going away and I have to learn how to use Shutterfly. I’m trying to keep this in perspective, but am really in a state of semi-despair. All the of books, cards, calendars, and other cool photographic projects I’ve made will be gone. GONE! I can recreate cards in Shutterfly, but they don’t put any info on the back. Shall I order anyway and use a rubber stamp?? That is kind of tacky. I might have to do it that way. Perhaps that is fitting for a Regionalist from Quaintsville.
  • When an artist does a show, there are more benefits than the immediate sales. Here is a list: new friends, new customers, potential commissions, potential new drawing students, seeing old friends, meeting other artists, sales that happen after people go home, new blog readers.
  • A long time ago, I did a variety of shows. Had to do them all to learn which ones worked. Redbud Festival has been here the longest and is now the most enjoyable and best organized. They have generous booth sizes, good food, good music, and are kind to their exhibitors.  (Even when it is hot.)
  • Doing shows in the heat and then painting 30×40″ commissions with an unaccustomed style of Loosiosity is most exhausting. But I’m merely commenting, not complaining.

Little Brown Church© 2012, oil on board, 4×6″, private collection

Any comments (not complaints) you’d like to add?

First Peek at Commissioned Oil Painting

As promised on May 24, here is the first peek at the commissioned oil painting spoken of in two previous blog posts.

Cowboy Bert told me he has a shirt that color. I said, “It’s called wheat”.

He said, “That don’t look like wheat to me.”

I said “It is wheat as viewed from the back of a fast horse.”

He said, “I’ll buy that”.

When cowboys say “I’ll buy that”, it doesn’t mean they plan to purchase an item. It means that they agree with you. It is the cowboy equivalent of city folk saying “Word”.

Aren’t you glad I am around to explain the English language to you?

My pleasure.

And, in case you are wondering about this painting, remember the commissioner/client/customer/friend/drawing student said she loved “loosiosity”.

Bet you can figure that word out all by yourself!

Any other words you’d like the California artist to ‘splain to you?

Great Poppy Year

The year was 2008, and the California poppies were stunningly abundant in Three Rivers. People still talk about it.

This is one of my photos from that most memorable year.

My postman brought me some photos he took, and I painted from them. You saw the results of one such painting here.

I promised to show you this when it was finished, and I keep my promises. If I remember. This larger version contains more detail than the 8×10 version. The mailman’s photo was easier to paint from than mine, because the solid mass of poppies almost makes my head spin. Hard to paint with an almost-spinning head.

Great Poppy Year©, 16×20″, oil on wrapped canvas, $360

California Poppies Oil Painting

This is another painting of California poppies, working from a photo supplied by my thoughtful and generous mailman. I painted it as an 8×10, loved it, and decided to repaint it 16×20. Practice makes perfect, someone said. It is not a commission. The 8×10 hasn’t sold yet, so maybe I am just getting ahead of myself. (Sometimes I’m just dying to paint something, and then no one else thinks it was such a good idea.)

This is after 3 layers. When this dries, I’ll add lupine.

Stay tuned – I’ll show you when it is finished!

Here is the 8×10 version:

Great Year For Poppies©2012, oil on wrapped canvas, 8×10, $90

Product or Process

In knitting, there are regular discussions about whether one is a product knitter or a process knitter. This is in reference to one’s motivation – is it the journey that you enjoy, or is it the destination?

When it comes to drawing, I am both a process and a product artist. The pencil feels like an extension of my hand which is an extension of my eye and my brain.This makes it immensely satisfying to build a drawing.

In addition to enjoying the journey, it is always a thrill to see the finished piece. Getting to my destination never loses its buzz. My latest drawing is usually my favorite.

(Painting is a completely different story, and in the interest of not going into a navel-gazing session here on the blog, we’ll just stick to drawing for now. You’re welcome.)

Seems to me that in order to finish a project, you have to want the product AND enjoy the process. One without the other equals more unfinished stuff, or UFOs, as knitters call them. (Un Finished Objects)

Finished pencil drawing for the upcoming book The Cabins of Wilsonia