I didn’t take any of these pictures, which were all taken before I went up the hill, because living in two places comes soon enough without pushing it. Our cabin is a summer dwelling, for good reasons.
Hence, the Early Bird, AKA Trail Guy, took these photos. (You can tell because his camera makes sky spots).
Opening the cabin is a big project, because Trail Guy and the Farmer open several people’s cabins, which requires many tools. The projects abound, the work never ceases, and yet wild horses cannot restrain these two good-hearted, hard-working gentlemen from serving the neighborhood.
Phlox
Two hardy souls marched (or perhaps simply staggered) up to Eagle Lake, BEFORE the Spring Creek Bridge was installed. One of the two generously shared her photos (and reported back that it was COLD.)
Looking down toward the dam that forms Eagle Lake.
Looking upstream toward the ridge that forms the other side of Eagle Lake.
Since this is supposed to be a marketing and advertising “platform” (these words… sigh … what am I supposed to call this? A venue? An avenue? Media?), have another look at my painting of Eagle Lake from a similar viewpoint (I think I was on the dam itself.)
Eagle Lake, 7×14”, oil on wrapped canvas, $200, at the Silver City Store so let me know if you want to buy it and I’ll retrieve it for you next weekend.
Ad over. Remember the fallen on this weekend because it isn’t supposed to be about getting away and fishing and hiking and boating and BBQing. However, because of the brave, we are free to do these things.
Admonition over.
Endeavor to persevere.
And remember, if you comment and it doesn’t appear, your comment will appear after I have returned from the Land of No Electricity or Internet or Phones to release it.
Having finished the oil painting commission, priced paintings and cards to sell at Silver City, all this while believing that I have finished enough paintings for the entire summer (possibly delusional about that), it was time to consider how to next spend my work time.
I pulled weeds at church (not work), oiled the siding on the front of the studio (sort of work), learned to use the new scanner at a minimal level (work requiring enormous patience), worked on art for the 2027 calendar (the best kind of work), and went to a county supervisor candidate meet-up where I had a conversation that led to a pencil commission (marketing work).
The requested subject, Reimer’s, to be redrawn in pencil, is here in Three Rivers. Iit will take a few photo sessions to find the right light without the parking lot full of scene-blocking cars. The customer has granted permission to show progress on the blog.
Too many generations of reproduction have severely compromised the quality of this drawing.
The original drawing is in a frame somewhere in someone’s home (I hope it isn’t stashed in a storage unit), the printshop that originally printed this on cards is out of business, and the store is under new ownership with some changes. Hence, it is time for a new drawing.
Preparing to Work
In addition, someone who hired me to edit a very long paper/potential book/article/essay something sent me photos of his garden at its peak and requested a collage type oil painting. I’ve only done collages with pencil, but I am willing to try this design approach in oil paint.
A collage in pencil, designed to combine scenes that seem disparate to the viewer unless you are the customer to whom all these places make sense.
After studying the 10 or so photos that he sent, it became apparent that my laptop screen isn’t up for the task—it’s just too small. So, I put them all on a document, turned it black and white (because my printer isn’t really capable of printing in color without cleaning the heads, running test patterns, and then replacing ink that got used up doing those tasks) and printed it out.
Next, I made a list of everything that is important to the customer. (He is very good at communicating—hence, the successful editing project.)
As I tiptoed ahead on this challenging project, I realized that this is my chance to not be stupidly unbusinesslike. Often I get so caught up in a challenge that I don’t charge for all the extra work, and I rarely remember to get a deposit. This time I let the customer know that the job is in the Think Tank and that I was attaching an invoice for $100 nonrefundable deposit for the design work. It will be applied to the painting, size to be determined.
After work I came home and cleaned up the tail and guts of a squirrel that Tucker caught, nibbled on, and left for Jackson and Pippin to finish. It was seriously disgusting, so instead of showing you that, let’s look at a pencil drawing of a completely intact squirrel.
Painting #38 of Tulare County’s best bridge (according by your Central California artist) is inching forward into excellence. Can you see the incremental improvements?
We can probably consider it all finished now, EXCEPT FOR THE BRIDGE ITSELF!
Ahem. Excuse me for shouting. It just surprises me that after I put an enormous amount of concentration and effort into the painting that the most important part remains to be detailed.
Maybe it would be fun if I did a series of posts with all the different versions I’ve painted of this bridge.
But first, this one needs to be finished.
Here is a photo taken with my real camera instead of the inferior phone camera; the colors aren’t as strong, but neither is it as pixelated, which doesn’t matter here on the interwebs.
We call this the Oak Grove Bridge; people who don’t know it very well might call it the Kaweah River Bridge or the Mineral King Road Bridge or the East Fork Bridge. Those names sort of work.
Not that bridge
There are folks who, when they see my paintings or drawings of the bridge, say, “I’ve eaten at that restaurant”. They are wrong—the only eatery at the Oak Grove bridge might be the tailgate of one’s pick-em-up truck. The Pumpkin Hollow (“Gateway”) bridge is at the confluence of the East and Middle Forks of the Kaweah River. It isn’t over a deep canyon, just one lane wide, and with a single arch.
See the difference?
Maybe it is time to draw the bridge again in pencil. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve done that; there are only 2 versions in my computer, because so many drawings didn’t get scanned or reproduced or even photographed in my early days.
Eagle Lake (a painting formerly known as a dog’s breakfast), 7×14”, oil on wrapped canvas, $200, currently drying, destined for the Silver City Store, unless it sells first from this little spot on the interwebs.
Oak Grove Bridge
The Oak Grove Bridge is a bit more challenging. I started with the attitude of “close enough” and as usual when drawing or painting architectural subjects, I ended up measuring and redoing several things.
The width of each arch needed to be the same, and the top of the bridge was too thick.
So I measured, redrew the arches (yes, with my paintbrush—anyone here have a problem with that?), lowered the top of the bridge, and then planted some manzanita on the lower left. I also started locating various rocks.
You’d think that after painting this forty-eleven* times, I’d have all the rocks and the arch proportions memorized. You’d be wrong in that thinking. I could make it up, but I’d also be wrong.
Such a grand little bridge for our slightly down-at-the-heels Tulare County. There are plans to turn it into a pedestrian-only bridge with a stout replacement safe for driving upstream of this classic one. The county had to do the eminent domain thing to acquire the land, and I have a feeling this will be a long, disruptive, and messy construction project.
Change can be so difficult.
Thus, for now we must enjoy the bridge as it was and as it is, and not think about as it shall be.
*This is actually #38, if I kept count correctly, which is doubtful.
The commissioned painting of fields and groves needed more drying time, so I began a new painting of my favorite bridge—Oak Grove, on the Mineral King Road.
It is always difficult. I make it even harder by choosing canvases of non-traditional proportions. This is 8×16”.
It sometimes helps to crop off the unnecessary parts, making the photo the same proportions as the canvas.
But sometimes I do that too late, and decide to just go with the close-enough approach. Can you see that the bridge takes up more real estate on the canvas than on the photo?
Good enough to start.
Is that a Dog’s Breakfast or a Painting?
Next, a 7×14” canvas for another new painting. It might be too ugly for you to tell what it is going to be.
Jackson doesn’t really care what I paint as long as he gets fed.
These paintings are destined for the Silver City Store this summer. Each year I think I have enough inventory, then around early August, I have to slam some out very quickly. I try to guess what subjects, sizes and quantities will sell, but there are no proven formulas.
P.S. Blog reader/author/artist/friend Louise thought I could do a better job finishing the commissioned oil painting. She always tells me the truth, something I value highly, and she was right. Here it is after I followed her suggestion. It is not in my nature to be a perfectionist; instead, I am always wanting to finish things. So, sometimes it takes an honest and wise second set of eyes to make sure a piece of my art is finished well. THANK YOU, LOUISE!
My single photo of avocado leaves was inadequate, so I stopped by the largest avocado tree I’ve ever seen in my life and took these photos.
I didn’t copy any of the leaves or branches exactly. These are all too thick and overlapping for me to untangle. So, I just studied them awhile until I thought I could make up my own that would look convincing.
Blueberries
I also tightened up the blueberries.
I sent this to the customer (there are 2 partners in the business but I am now just dealing with one—hence, the switch from plural to singular) to say that I wanted to do a bit more detailing on the fields and groves, and to verify if there was anything I missed.
A Little More Work
She agreed that some of the fields could use some tighter detailing and requested that I plant an orchard on the barren hillside on the right and add some avocados to the framing branches.
This one passed, so I photographed the entire painting again with the requested improvements and additions.
It is quite wet, but we are having a warm spell and I expect it to be dry enough to ship on Monday.
This has a been a thoroughly enjoyable commission, working with someone who communicates well, is open to suggestions, trusts my abilities, and provides me with a bit of artistic license (but not too much).
The distant groves and fields are probably finished.
Time to begin the embellishments. I found blueberry photos on the interwebs, AND I have my own from excursions in Oregon.
In my extensive collection of photos, I found one of avocado leaves, pre-digital. I used my inferior phone camera to take a picture so I could flip it on my laptop.
Not really adequate. . . I know where there is an enormous avocado tree, so I’ll go get some better photos to finish the leaves.
Then I’ll retouch some of the other details, paint the edges, sign it, wait for it to dry again, varnish it, and then package it up to ship to the realtor customers.
Reminder
I help people write books and get them printed. The books that I have shepherded from idea to publication but that I don’t sell can be found on this new page: OTHER PEOPLE’S BOOKS. This includes Tales of TB, Springville’s Hospital, The Crooked Cross of Diamond Lake, Only the Living, and Adventures in Boy Scouting.
Five step-by-step photos today, mostly painting left to right.
So many parts in the photo were ambiguous and repetitive that I often lost my place. A way to combat this lostness is to first paint the things that are definite, then make up the stuff around them. Some of my sizes are probably definitely wrong, and some of the fields are missing. The customer said accuracy isn’t important—she is looking for conceptual interpretation of the subject. I don’t think there are any Geography Police gunning for me.
Lower left will be blueberries; upper right will be avocado leaves.
I am liking the painting, which is always a relief, especially when it starts out so loose and rough and confusing.
The real estate customers chose the panoramic shape.
Good thing they know I can paint. (Well, duh, that’s why they commissioned me.)
This is similar to my current favorite subject to draw and paint, but there are blueberries and avocados rather than orange trees. There is also a distinct lack of snow-covered mountains and no poppies on the distant hills, but still, it is similar.
View from Wutchumna, 12×24”, private collection
Wait, “current” favorite subject? The painting above was completed in 2022. Here’s the first one I did in 2008.
Family Farm, size forgotten, private collection
Before oil painting, I drew similar scenes in colored pencil in a year I did not record, before I had a scanner, and when I had a web designer who added watermarks.
And before that, I drew similar scenes in pencil.
Spring Citrus, pencil, sold long ago
Enough remembering and bloviating. Get back to work, Central California Artist!
Reminder
I help people write books and get them printed. The books that I have shepherded from idea to publication but that I don’t sell can be found on this new page: OTHER PEOPLE’S BOOKS. This includes Tales of TB, Springville’s Hospital, The Crooked Cross of Diamond Lake, Only the Living, and Adventures in Boy Scouting.
Some friends in real estate in a distant place have occasionally asked me to paint something for a customer after a large sale is made. Client. I think “client” is probably more correct here.
Remember these?
Hmmm, was my scanner going south back then too? This is darker than the painting.
I wonder if the clients appreciated the paintings. No one has gotten in touch to thank me or ask for more.
Doesn’t matter. My customers are happy enough to come back to me. (Yes, my people are customers, rather than clients, and no, I don’t actually know the difference except that one sounds more expensive.)
My customers sent me the listing with gorgeously staged photos of the house and some drone shots (also gorgeous) of the giant property.
From these, with a little bit of guidance after I asked all the questions I could think of, I did two quickity sketches. The customers chose two possible sizes, probably based on their budget, and the sketches are proportional to each of the two sizes.
The property is a blueberry farm along with avocado groves. The house, although fabulously fabulous beyond all fabulosity, isn’t that important here.
Good thing they know that I can paint and draw.
To be continued. . .
BONUS: I read this from James Clear’s newsletter: “The problem with keeping your options open is that every option requires energy to hold. And a shelf full of maybes is often heavier than a hand holding one yes. Put something down.”
