Hospital Rock: A lesson in choosing photographs for art

In what passes for winter in Tulare County, sometimes it gets cold and gray. Count on it in the flatlands. Moan and complain about it in Three Rivers. If you’re smart, you’ll just drive up a ways and voila! Sunshine! That is what Michael and I did on Saturday. Ever been to Hospital Rock? I had, but only to the upper parts and not to the river. The interesting thing is this: I recognized the rocks because I have drawn them! As always, I was looking for light but seriously distracted by the lovely old rockwork. Under the photos, I will put my opinion of how each photo would be useful to an artist.

There was a bridge across the river (middle fork of the Kaweah) until it washed out in the ’55 flood and a wall was added for a viewing platform. This has the clear detail necessary for a pencil drawing, but probably not the best choice of subjects because it is sort of an odd structure. Those sorts of things make sense in photos but cause an art viewer to wonder what the heck it is!

There are inexplicable stairs all around. Clearly this was constructed in an earlier era before evidence of humanity was forbidden (except signs with cautions and warnings.) This has good clear detail for a pencil drawing, but not a great one because there is no visible sunlight. The person could be included or left out, depending on how much fiddly detail one wanted to do. If the face was showing, I’d say FORGET IT – NO FACES SMALLER THAN AN EGG! (ok, I might not shout, but I’d be very adamant on this point.)

I recognized this little waterfall – it had my friend’s parents standing to the left in the picture that I drew. This would make a nice pencil drawing –  great contrast but not enough color for a painting.

Would the Park allow a trail to be built beneath a rock like this now?? Would they even allow the rock to remain? There are no warning signs – amazing! This photo is good for documentation only – the subject is too weird for art.

This is the kind of light I look for. It would make an excellent painting. Also good for drawing but it would be hard to render the textures unless artist is very experienced.

The Paradise Bridge was replaced in the early ’90s (Michael worked on that project) and it washed out in the ’97 flood, which was only about 1/4 of the water experienced in the flood of ’55! I wasn’t born yet. (Just had to throw that in in case you were wondering.) This would make a drawing and maybe a painting but I’d have to think about what to do with that heavy-looking tree leaning out to the right.

Hard to imagine it washing out. This photo is good for documentation only.Too much texture and the main subject is too small for a good drawing. In case you are wondering, I learned this the hard way. 

Rockwork, light, this would make a nice pencil drawing. Maybe even colored pencil. Maybe a combo! I’d mess with the composition a tad to get the edge of the wall off dead-center.

What do you think?

Forgive Us Our Trespasses

This is 16×12″ oil on wrapped canvas. It represents 2 days of exploring Yokohl Valley last March at the height of wildflower season. I spent an inordinate amount of time on it, and almost had to break out my blow dryer to have it dry in time for the show! “Yokohl Valley Revisited” at the Tulare Historical Museum opened last night.

The title of this paintings has 2 meanings: a fair amount of trespassing was involved in gathering my photos. Number two: in the Bible “trespasses” means sin; I think it would be a sin to turn this gorgeous place into a city. I can just hear my Very Wise Dad saying in his overly calm voice meant to soothe but also a bit infuriating, “Everybody has to live somewhere.”

Grandma, what were you thinking??

img_4749.jpg

Grandma’s family had to cross this creek (called a “branch” in the local venacular) in order to reach their home. Mom and I were warned not to try to see the site (home was burned by vandals quite awhile ago) because of snakes. Creepy, hunh?

img_4761.jpg

Instead of contending with snakes, we trespassed ever so slightly on the neighboring property. I just wanted to get a feel of my G’ma’s growing up life. After seeing the incredible natural beauty and rural location, it just boggles my mind that she spent the bulk of her 94 years in Orange County, California! What were you thinking, Grandma? How could you leave this place?? Were you homesick? Were you just following your husband? Did you get stuck in a rut in the urban world? Did you consider it a groove rather than a rut, which makes for smoother traveling? (a description from my other grandmother)

More North Carolina photos

Rather than invade the privacy of my newly met distant relatives, I will show you some of my photos from the other parts of my trip.

img_4590.jpg

I love stone structures!

Iimg_4596.jpg

This was my only view of the blue ridges of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

img_4769.jpg

This is the church where the family reunions used to be.  It has no air-conditioning, so now the family reunites in other places. Guess the younger folks aren’t quite as tough as Grandma’s generation. Grandma was very tough, and I aspire to be like her in that area!

All grown up

While at the family reunion in North Carolina, I had a most interesting conversation with Cousin Don. He said his dad, Uncle Lank (derived from Langston), managed apple orchards at the Moses Cone estate. It is now a part of the Blue Ridge Parkway National Park (or is it a monument?).  There are miles of trails that used to be carriage roads. Cousin Don told me the apple orchards aren’t there any more and that it is “all grown up” so one can’t recognize where the orchards used to be. I thought about it, and asked him what he meant by “all grown up”. He  said that the orchards had reverted to the native trees and other growth. I told him that “all grown up” in California means there is now a subdivision or a mall or a freeway where an orchard used to be. Isn’t North Carolina refreshing?? Here is one of the apple barns where Uncle Lank worked:

img_4731.jpg

img_4730.jpg

(told you it was foggy!)

A Quest

My maternal grandmother, AKA Grandma, was one of 12 children born to Martha Bob and Edward Elisha in the hills of North Carolina.  Of the 7 girls, she was the only one to attend and graduate from high school, leave North Carolina, and eventually get her driver’s license! (Such a maverick, that G’ma of mine!) Last week I had the privilege and joy of spending time in the town of Blowing Rock, North Carolina, where she went to high school. The natives call them mountains because it is high and cool for NC, but as a Californian who spends much time in Mineral King, I think of them as beautiful green hills covered in deciduous trees. The town was just wonderful – a Carmel/Mendocino type place whose population swells from 1500 to 20,000 in the summer. Every yard has flowers, every porch has chairs (usually rockers), and every person is as nice as can be. I loved the architecture, the lakes, the trails, the history, the learning of where G’ma grew up, and meeting my Mom’s first cousins.

img_4606.jpg

The school that G’ma attended was only there from 1918 – 1927, so I had to be content with photos o the present structure.

img_4584.jpg

The rock gymnasium was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s.

img_4585.jpg

Have I mentioned that I love old buildings? 😎