A Day of Painting Sawtooths*

Two Sawtooth paintings on my easels, yellow-lidded palette thawing from its overnight storage in the freezer. Next a decision to begin with the skies, so the tall painting needed to be flipped. And since sky was the first color, I added in the tiny (6×6”) classic Mineral King painting to the day’s tasks.

I flipped it over because otherwise I’d need to stand on a ladder to reach the upper parts of this 24×30” painting. While it was accessible, I worked on Sawtooth.

And since the right colors were on the palette, I painted Sawtooth on the 12×24” canvas.

Then since the colors of Sawtooth were a good blend for trail dust, I flipped the painting and hit the trail.

Moving forward on the painting, I mixed up distant forest colors and got those trees covered.

Obviously the next step was to take care of the distant evergreens on the larger painting, which I was able to reach right-side-up.

Next, I photographed my studio door for reference. It is a little unusual for me to be using a mural instead of photographs. However, I used this door, a stack of photos, and mostly just painted from my mind. This is a new approach, but after painting Sawtooth a minimum of 64 times, I should be able to figure out how to paint it from memory. (I am not exaggerating the number of times I’ve painted Sawtooth.)

It’s a little tricky to see any changes among the first three photos, but I was very diligent about photographing the progression. By the end of the day, I was sitting down (because my feet told me to) and began “drawing with my paintbrush”. (That’s what the ArtWorld snobs call it when a painter gets obsessed with detail—maybe because they don’t have that skill. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. They’re just jealous. So there.)

You can tell that I sort of forgot about the 12×24” canvas. These are both quite challenging, because I am not following a specific photo to create a specific view. Instead, I’m wanting to create paintings that summarize the feeling and memories that someone has after walking up the Nature Trail in Mineral King. I’m painting two different shapes so there are choices for customers.

*Sawtooth is a mountain that is visible from Visalia. Two paintings of Sawtooth would be “Sawtooths”, not “Sawteeth”. Any questions?

And Another Productive Day!

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.

Such a Productive Day

And about time after so many days of messing around in my yard, other people’s yards, and driving around Three Rivers. I painted all day. It was kind of hot and there were mosquitos. I painted anyway. This is how it is when an artist messes around and then sells seven paintings in two weeks with a solo show coming.

This needed more light. So I said, “Let there be light.”

This also needed more light. Not sure I achieved it yet.

This simply needed another layer, and then I’ll wait for it all to dry again so I can add wildflowers. Of course I’m adding wildflowers. Did you doubt me? (I tried, but it was too wet.)

This needed to be painted start to finish. That’s a little ambitious for a 10×20” canvas, but I was on a roll. I cobbled the scene together from several photos taken when things were still green. When this is dry, I’ll add fences, gates, loading chutes perhaps, and of course cattle. Maybe a few wildflowers.

And this painting is to fulfill the part of the show title* “. . . and Sometimes a Little Farther”. I don’t remember which beach this is. I have many photos of many California beaches, but haven’t painted them yet other than my plein air week in Monterey last October.

You should see the enormous number of brushes I had to wash when the day ended.

*Around Here and Sometimes a Little Farther, at the Tulare Historical Museum/Heritage Gallery in August.

Spoken-for Sequoia

The spoken-for, in-progress Sequoia painting jumped to the top of the queue. Here you can see it in steps to completion.

The light was wrong in the afternoon so I moved the easel to the opposite side of the table. When the painting was finished, I had to flip it upside down to paint the bottom edge.

Because it will be leaving before it is dry enough to scan, I photographed it carefully while upside down in the painting workshop in various lighting. Then I went to work on making the color correct on the computer screen while studying the wet painting in front of me.

I have 2 versions, neither of which really do the painting justice. However, remember that everything looks better in real life (except celebrities).

Sequoia Gigantea IXX, 6×18”, sold

Now it is time to start another one, because my local representatives need me to keep them supplied. This is classic Tulare County art; it is a privilege to be able to see these trees in person and paint them for the visitors (and former residents) of Three Rivers, the true gateway to Sequoia National Park.

A Cover-up

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.

What a Week!

I finally had a couple of hours to put my paintings back after surveying them for the upcoming solo show, “Around Here and Sometimes a Little Farther” in August.

Once again, I was so pleased with my little studio where I draw and display art that I took some more photos.

A friend/former neighbor was staying in the vacation rental across the street and requested a look into my studio. Since he reads my blog, he knew that it was in disarray so he waited until I let him know that order had been restored. He walked over for a visit (with Mabel, a Pembroke Welsh corgi), and I first showed him the workshop where I paint. He asked a few questions, and then wondered if I would paint a giant Sequoia for him.

But of course!

I told him he could have the incomplete one on the easel, and I’d even box it up and send it home with him wet. He agreed (with the understanding that I’d finish it first).

We moved into the studio, where he selected 3 more paintings.

I told him that isn’t why I invited him to see the studio and he responded that it is why he wanted to see it.

So I carried the 3 paintings over to his place because he needed to keep Mabel on her leash (she was getting used to the turkeys so he needed to be ready for who knew what might happen.) I propped them on the sofa table and photographed them to show you.

What a week! A visit with my longtime friend, finding a print for someone, selling some paintings, two dogs visiting my workplace. . . but wait! There’s more!

Tell you next time. . .

Back to Work, Party’s Over

What party? Glad you asked! The party of one and sometimes two—goofing off, yardening, exploring, and basically not producing any art.

When we got home from exploring up South Fork, there was a serious distraction. Our neighbor’s beagle followed her nose and found her way to our cat feeding area in the workshop (same room where I paint). Apparently old beagles don’t lose their instinct to follow their noses even when they haven’t had the opportunity to do so in many years. I carried her toward her home and was grateful that one of her humans met me part way because she is solid, very heavy and wiggly too.

Finally, I started working.

First, two new large (for me) Sawtooth paintings. One is the scene from the door of my studio. I tried to start it outside, but Pippin kept wanting to participate, so I took a photo of the door to work from. (It wasn’t helpful.) The color is weird because I used my inferior camera phone, since my camera battery was on the charger.

I realize that the proportions are different on the recycled 24×30” canvas, but it doesn’t matter. I can make up this scene, but I will refer to a handful of photos. This will take many layers to cover the previous painting, done by a friend’s daughter as a college assignment.

Might as well begin the horizontal version (12×24”? 10×20”?)

Ultimately, I finished one, started two, and puttered around on four.

Working Toward a Solo Show

In August, “Around Here and Sometimes a Little Farther” will open in Tulare at the Tulare Historical Museum’s Heritage Gallery.

What is this? So glad you asked! It is another solo show of my art.

Pieces have sold since the show last fall in Exeter at CACHE, new pieces have been painted, and it is time to assess the collection. Do I have enough paintings? Is there enough of a spread of sizes, shapes, and subjects?

How do I figure this out? So glad you asked! (Have you noticed how many times an interviewee responds to a question with “great question”? I try to avoid clichés, so I made my own clichéd response.)

Trail Guy and I set up my display screens in the painting workshop and hung all the larger paintings. I made lists: how many of which subjects, how many vertical, how many horizontal, which ones need to be touched up or improved or finished, and what shall I paint next?

The two blank canvases will become Sawtooth paintings, one horizontal, and the other vertical. The vertical canvas is turned around because it has a painting on the other side, done many years ago by a friend’s daughter. She passed the canvas along to me, rightly discerning that my frugal self would say a hearty “THANK YOU!” and turn it into something else.

These look rather undignified, all squished together, crooked, some on the floor. Doesn’t matter for purposes of this evaluation session.

I wanted to go lie down, eat some chocolate, read a book, pull a few weeds, knit something, or just rock while staring out the window, but instead we schlepped all the paintings to the studio and replaced them with pencil drawings. Sometimes I can find my inner warrior and soldier through.

Are there enough? Are any too tired to show? What pieces need to be added? Do I have frames that will work or will I need to fork out money for more framing? (My framer is wonderful, in case you are interested. I take him pieces, tell him my budget, sometimes indicate a mood such as “formal” or “rustic”, tell him to make it look good and call me when it is finished. His name is Ed, and his business is Express Framing in Visalia. Tell him I sent you.)

This list is shorter than the oil list because I have many many many pencil drawings. How many? Glad you asked! A LOT!! (I don’t want to count.)

Currently I have 24 larger paintings, about 15 smaller ones, and 9 tiny (5×7”) ocean scenes that will sit on easels. That is 48 paintings, but there is a chance some of them will sell at Silver City this summer. There are two new large ones to paint (maybe more if the asphalt paver coming to repair our driveway decides he would like to barter), three to improve, and one to finish.

I will probably add about four more to the current batch of pencil drawings: another pier, another portrait, and two with some color in them.

What was so tough? It was a lot of schlepping, but that’s no biggie. Sometimes it is just hard to face reality: is my work good enough? How much work remains? Have I bitten off more than I can chew? Can I do better? Am I promoting my work enough? Does anyone care? Should I just go get a real job?

All of this thinking and planning is simply part of the business of art.

More About Business with a Friend

Two of my friend’s new paintings were just right on her wall. The third didn’t fit.

She took me up on my offer to exchange, so I put 3 new paintings in the pick-em-up truck (because Fernando is under the weather) and headed to her house.

This is the one she sent back.

Choices are good, and seeing the pieces in place is especially helpful. She said she was hoping for a painting that filled the space vertically, so these are the paintings I took to her.

She had expressed an interest in the painting with oranges, hills, and Alta Peak; I thought it might look good with the view looking east off Rocky Hill beneath the square painting to give needed height.

The winner? Well, me, because sales are always welcomed. But that’s not what you are wondering.

She chose the Oak Grove Bridge to hang at the top of her staircase!

I tried to include photos, but the ones texted from her phone to my phone to my laptop just don’t cooperate.

Doing Business with a Friend*

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.