This looked like a full day of painting ahead. If I could knock these out, it would be a productive day.
Let’s go! I knocked out the wildflowers on the 8×10” Sawtooth painting first.
Actually, this didn’t look too hard. It needed some fencing and cows and of course, wildflowers, which are just colored dots in this type of painting. And it is so small here on the computer that you can’t see many of those details. Trust me. It looks better in person. Duh.
Easy peasy. Let’s go to the beach next. Wow, this one went quickly. Finishing with details is the best part of painting.
I took a brief break to scan a dry painting in the studio and was just slayed by the perfection of these lemon geraniums blooming by the studio and flowing over the wall. You should smell these!
Finally, I tackled this trail in Mineral King on a 8×8” canvas. It isn’t finished, but I signed it because I was able to scratch my name into the wet paint.
Finished all three plus an additional 8×8”, AND met with the customer about designing her ranch map. I need a week of these productive days, quickety quick before it gets too hot to paint.
Shall we call this Paint-gate? I bet people under 50 years of age don’t understand why every political scandal and cover-up has “gate” attached to the end.
This cover-up isn’t scandalous. A friend gave me a 24×30” canvas with an unfinished painting that her daughter did in college. Out of respect for my friend, I haven’t shown you the painting.
It is a dark painting, literally, in terms of colors. I can’t tell if the subject matter is dark, figuratively speaking. It IS weird, one of those nebulous assignments that college art teachers love to hand out, hoping to stimulate creativity.
Sorry Teach, those assignments only incite panic and bizarreness. Why don’t you focus on teaching your students some useful skills? Creativity comes with time and life experience, not with vague, ludicrous prompts like, “Design a container for air” or “depict transparency”. Stop the unhelpful weirdness and just show people HOW TO PAINT.
Ahem. Where were we?
Placement first.
I couldn’t reach the sky and Sawtooth so I flipped the canvas.
I worked forward, and then dropped down to the trail.
Just a little here and a little there while watching the clock because I had to be somewhere. It’s hard to do good work when thinking about time; the part of our brains that recognizes shapes and colors doesn’t know how to tell time. Sounds ridiculous, but I know this because all my drawing students tell me that the one hour that they are drawing is the fastest hour of the week.
The trail looks as if it is made from crushed oyster shells, not something you’d find in Mineral King.
Clearly, this cover-up will be a long project. I’m not used to painting this large. I have to keep squeezing out more paint. Duh. I also have to remember to use the largest brushes possible for each area, because this needs to be finished and dry in time for the solo show in August. Sure, there is time, but the workshop is not a pleasant place to paint when it is hot.
For many years, there has been talk of repairing the Mineral King road. Talk talk talk, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. Surveys, public meetings, emails. Fires, floods, emergency repairs, road closures.
Finally, the work has begun. The road won’t be open to the public until the Wednesday before Memorial Day weekend, and there is a very rigid schedule about when you can pass through the work zone and when you will have to just wait.
I was happy to see all the green and the wildflowers, along with the reassurance that the temporary bridge made it through the winter. (I’m always relieved to see the sign on the way back home too, because if it is temporary, maybe it will vanish while we are up the hill.)
Here’s my old friend the Oak Grove Bridge. During all the public meetings about the road, it was voted to simply repair the bridge. Then Those Who Know More determined that it isn’t repairable and there is talk of converting this bridge to a foot bridge and putting a new driving bridge upstream. I don’t expect this to happen in my lifetime. This is on the county portion of the road, and the construction is only on Sequoia National Park’s portion, ending about 4 miles below the end of the road. Yeppers, the very rough upper dirt portions will remain and the threatened fancy-pants parking lots aren’t part of the plan.
That’s Case Mountain over there. It is very green, and there are new roads carved in because of the wildfire last fall.
This is Squirrel Creek, just above the Sweet Ranch and below the park boundary, now with a mysterious road-construction-generated load of rocks by the turnout.
We pulled over to wait for the pilot car, and enjoyed some wildflowers and a view.
This is looking back at the road, still green. The wildfires (in 2020, 2021, 2024) required much brush clearing so it is a lot easier to see traffic ahead now. (Looking for a silver lining. . .)
Because Mineral King isn’t open to the public just yet, I didn’t want to rub it in that cabin folks can go. Right now it is rather colorless, because the green is barely beginning and there is a lot of snow. Here is the classic view from the bridge on the way out, which was a bit of a hustle in order to meet the pilot car*.
We got to the waiting area (just above Slapjack) with enough time to see some harlequin lupine.
It is going to be a summer of disruption, waits in the sun, and a much longer drive to Mineral King. (We left home at 8:30 and arrived at the cabin at 11:30. . . sing with me “a three hour tour, a three hour tour”)
*Someone reported being 10 minutes late to the pilot car area and he had to wait 3 hours for the next pass-through time. Do not mess with these construction workers and their schedule!
This post is lots of jibber-jabber before the photos, but without the gab, you might wonder why these photos are here.
A longtime (not going to say “old”) friend expressed an interest in a couple of my paintings. I brought them to her so she could see how they looked on a recently refurbished wall in her home.
After thinking it over, she asked if she could bring them back to me and see more. Of course I said yes, because A. I really enjoy her company and B. it was business.
I asked her to send me photos of the wall, and/or measurements. She did, but I do my best to not mess with people’s privacy here on the world wide web.
Before I even knew she was coming, I spent a morning vacuuming the studio. I might even have dusted a little. When I learned she was coming, I pulled most of the pencil drawings off the wall and replaced them with any painting that she might be interested in.
We spent about an hour discussing, rearranging, even designing a new painting. I drew the wall from her photos and we tried different shapes and sizes to see what arrangement was the most pleasing. This was a big decision, or perhaps several big decisions, and these things take time. It really is part of the business of art, and at the same time, it was part of friendship. If she had asked, I would have helped her figure this out even if it wasn’t my art.
The vertical shape on the left in each sketch represented the painting that she was sure about. We experimented with a square one, and with a couple of sizes and shapes of others. When she asked for my opinion, I honestly said that I was clearly not objective and am accustomed to seeing all my paintings together so I can’t tell if two paintings are better than two others when side by side in terms of subject matter.
She chose three paintings, we put them in her car, and I reassured her that if she wants help hanging them, wants to trade them for one of the others, or even wants me to paint something new, I am willing. (Another excuse to hang out? Maybe.)
I filled in the gaps, rearranged the paintings and drawings, and was so pleased with my studio that I took a couple of photos.
Here are the three paintings that she chose:
Classic Mineral King
Honeymoon Cabin
Alpenglow on Farewell Gap
*Because if your friends won’t do business with you, who will??
P.S. There are 2 fabulous quilts on the chair in my studio that this friend made. I didn’t put them out because she was coming; they are always there, except when I take one to the cabin with me each summer.
The last painting of a lemon sold the day I took it to the gallery*, so I painted another one. This is Lemons on the Tree IV, 6×6”, $75. It needs a few blossoms.
Now it is time to start painting Mineral King subjects to sell at Silver City this summer. This is Sawtooth #64, 8×10”, $150. It isn’t finished. (Were you nervous there for half a second?)
The Honeymoon Cabin is very popular; this cabin is from the resort which ended up in the hands of Mickey Mouse and is the only remaining one from the big teardown after the avalanche in 1969. It is now a mini museum, operated by the Mineral King Preservation Society.
Now it is finished. Unless I change my mind. Honeymoon Cabin #49. Hmmm, I guess it isn’t as popular as Sawtooth. And fret not—this is a poorly lit photo of a very wet painting. It will look much better when it is dry and scanned. And as always, everything looks better in person (except perhaps celebrities). This is 6×12”, $145.
This will be the trail leading to Farewell Gap. The method of beginning the painting is clean-out-my-brushes-at-the-end-of-the-painting-session. It is 8×8” and will be $145.
This is not a painting. These daffodils are so heavy-headed that they fall over, so Trail Guy picked a few off the ground and put them on the kitchen window sill.
It is still April, and my daffodils are so varied and beautiful that tomorrow I will show you the immense variety scattered around the property.
*Those quick sales are a thrill and I do NOT take them for granted.
There was an overcast day in Three Rivers this week. Maybe more than one, but we are only concerned with one of them for purposes of this post. We drove up the Mineral King road, as far as the Conifer gate. (That’s the upper gate, which is below Atwell.
Brrr
Good to know that the temporary bridge is still in place. . . hoping it is still there when we drive back down the road.
We broke into the sunshine around mile 4.5-ish.
Hello, Oak Grove Bridge! (mile 6.5-ish)
We were in that muck down there, temperatures in the 50s, and now in the sunshine, it will reach 70.
The Sweet Ranch in the sunshine. I wonder if it is called a “ranch” because of cattle in its history, cattle in its present, or just because what else does one call a spread in the foothills? (My uncle used to call his orange and avocado grove “the ranch”, which I always found peculiar.)
We think that if someone drove to this gate, then all the way back to the Foothills Visitor Center, he would be disappointed and surprised by the complete ignorance about this gate or sign on the part of personnel at the Visitor Center. Just conjecture on our part, but probably true.
Often we are above this stuff in Three Rivers, but not so on Wednesday.
Everyone recognizes Sawtooth. (I’ve painted it at least 60 times, and drawn it in pencil many other unnumbered times.)
Now the gate locks are consistently secured, we got a little sunshine, and you are up-to-date (but only as far as Conifer.)
First, an ad. I hope to see you all (my tens of readers) on Saturday!
Mineral King
Many people enjoy Mineral King in summer; fewer make it there in the fall, and a very few make it up in the winter (for many good reasons, beginning with the locked gates). I think of it as a summer place, and with this year’s extended heat, the season seemed lengthy. The added time was a gift, because we thought it was toast with that stupid Coffeepot fire.
Lots of photos for you to enjoy today. . .
Pink stuff from the fire, severe pruning, and a few smokes.
Crews are still working, and there are many many dropped trees.
We got mail! (Thank you T & L P)
The water is low; the colors are fading.
I went out with my dying camera battery to capture a few photos in the sunshine.
It was good to see that work has gotten done on several cabins in spite of the rude interruption of the stupid Coffeepot fire.
3 new roofs are in this photo… prolly too small to pick out here.
The next day began overcast. We went for a walk past Crystal Creek to see if we could discover any fall color. Nothing to see. Hiking Buddy and I went out a bit later, thinking it might be our only chance. However, the sun came out later, so we went back out. Look at the difference the sun makes! (And please excuses the dark spots from Trail Guy’s camera, which I borrowed due to forgetfulness on my part to bring the backup battery.)
While hanging out with my little friend, I showed her something peculiar.
That was there all weekend and no one knows why. So, we added a pair of found sunglasses. We are easily amused at our cabins, always finding something fun to do.
There is such a nostalgic feeling to the season’s final stay at our cabins. Although we see our neighbors throughout the year because we are real life friends, closing is a bit melancholy.
While we made one final stop at the community dumpster (managed by Trail Guy, the all-purpose mayor), I took the borrowed camera for one final look at some fall color. Turned out to be more fall light than actual autumn-type colors.
And finally, it is a huge relief that the temporary bridge allowed us to come and go all season.
I never did figure out the necessity of this sign. The word “temporary” made me want to drive much faster than 5 mph.
The recreation restrictions were lifted, so Hiking Buddy and I took a stroll down the Nature Trail, where some fall colors were beginning to show (this was last weekend).
Up to Crystal Creek
We also took a walk across the bridge (oh my, how my walks have shrunk this year), past the pack station, and up to the much diminished Crystal Creek.
Heading Home
Driving home, we were stopped around the Conifer Gate because there were lots of tree-fallers at work. The 3-man crew on road closure duty was from Tennessee, and it was delightful to talk to them.
The next crew on the lower end of the tree-falling segment was from Montana, also delightful.
We made sure to tell all of these guys to be sure to drive to the end of the road, and also to have lunch at the Silver City Store.
So, after a three week interruption, we return to the normally peaceful and beautiful fall season in Mineral King.
But not me. I’m heading to Monterey for a week-long plein air painting retreat. I will be reporting on this radical new adventuresome opportunity next week. These are photos I took in 2009 when a friend and I went snooping around Asilomar, a fabulous conference grounds with buildings designed by Julia Morgan.
The parking lot was empty on Saturday morning, because the restrictions on the road and on recreation weren’t officially lifted until 10 a.m. Most people didn’t learn of the restriction removal until the end of the day on Friday. This doesn’t really make it easy for people to plan for the weekend, but the Park is in charge, and we are not.
It was so nice to see Timber Gap again.
This cabin might actually be repaired before winter.
The wood was a regular sight; many trees were dropped and bucked up along the road, due to a contracted tree removal crew.
It felt good to swing an ax; we burned quite a bit of wood because it was chilly in the evenings and the mornings.
Here’s another sign of neglect. Literally.
Ranger Mary was lonely at the Ranger station. Backcountry permits are set up on the porch for self-registration now.
