Good Painting Day

You regular Blog Readers (thank you for reading and caring!) know that my favorite thing to do is drawing, not oil painting. So, when I have a good painting day, it needs to be marked, remarked, remembered, noticed and celebrated.

An oil painting has been hanging around for awhile. Both Trail Guy and I wonder why it hasn’t sold yet. . . I’ve named it, of course, but it hasn’t really become a pet. A few years ago I reworked it, knowing I could do a better job.

On my good painting day, I reworked it again. In this photo, it is the one on the bottom. I had planned to work on the painting on the top, but on impulse (WHAT?? I am not a very impulsive person – what happened??) I pulled it out of the studio and moved it into the painting workshop.

Then, I redid the background, which meant that some of the middle ground needed to be retouched. 

Do you see 2 photographs in the photo below? I used the upper one the first time and  the bottom one in the do-over. Maybe it hasn’t sold because the colors were overly brilliant and/or because it looked more like a telephoto-type photo instead of a realistic painting.

Since I live in Realville, it was time to bring the painting along. This was a good decision, because it attracted attention and good comments at the recent Perfect Gift Boutique when in the past it was just ignored (poor old thing. . .) Even being as non-objective about it as I am, I can see that it is better than before.

Long Way There, 12×16″, oil on wrapped canvas, $300 including sales tax in California (This is the Mineral King Road, just above Lookout Point.)

But what about the painting I had initially planned to work on? Got the sky and the back mountain ridges done (maybe) and the top of White Chief Peak begun. Looking good on a good painting day, and looking forward to moving forward in the painting!

Now that was some poor writing (used the words “looking”, “good”, “painting”, and “forward” twice each in the same sentence). Does this mean that a good painting day makes for a bad writing day?

Life is full of unanswered questions.This thing looks okay but it smells funny.

Realville, Not Maybeland

I have referred to myself as “A Realist from Quaintsville”, but most of the time I am more of a realist from Realville, because Tulare County isn’t really all that quaint. Really.

This definition means not living in a dreamworld, a place of what-if, maybe and perhaps. This sounds like “What if I put more time into it, maybe I can fix this oil painting, perhaps it will sell. . . ”

The bald truth about this lantern oil painting is that I don’t like any of these things: working on it, trying to see detail that is ambiguous, and attempting to make paintbrushes behave like pencils. More time probably won’t fix anything, make me like it, or cause it to sell, because it has been in a time-out for 7 months, and none of these things have changed.

I’m 58 and I don’t have to finish this if I don’t want. So there.

Sometimes it is good to just act on a decision instead of waiting to be sure. I’m sure I don’t want to paint this, because I’ve been waiting to work on it for 7 months, hoping I might be able to turn it into an appealing painting.

Reality is that I like painting pomegranates, can actually see the detail, know how to paint them, and know they will sell.

The business of art requires frequent reality checks, and remembering to live in Realville rather than Maybeland.

I’d really enjoy drawing the lanterns, but am not convinced that this would be a good use of my time. Pencil drawings are my strongest artwork, but the reality is that oil paintings sell better.

Realville is where I live.

Better Than Before?

Happy Birthday Jenny and Debbie!

First there was this version:

Why didn’t I like this? Other people did, but they chose other sequoia oil paintings instead of this one, so maybe they were just being polite.

I thought it over while at a show, with time in between visitors to evaluate things.

My main conclusion was that it needed something, but I wasn’t sure what. So, I took it home and started messing with it.

Sunny Sequoias XXVIII, oil on wrapped canvas 8×10, $135 including tax

Does it look any more appealing now? I added more sky, dulled the distant trees a tad, and brightened the small foreground trees a teensy bit. The whole thing is much brighter in real life than on my screen here. And at the recent Perfect Gift Boutique, it attracted more comments than it did before renovation. However, it is still in my studio so it didn’t stir anyone to part with any money. Yet.

There is no way to be fully objective about one’s own work. 

In and Out

Happy Birthday, Shirley, Connie and Hailey!!

What do I mean by “in and out”?

These paintingsare now IN my inventory.

“Flock”, 6×18″, oil on wrapped canvas, $150 + tax
“Dinnerbone”, 8×10″, oil on wrapped canvas, $125 plus tax.

This painting is now OUT of my inventory. (Does that make it outventory?)

WHAT?? Are you telling me I have to paint my favorite bridge again??

It will be Oak Grove Bridge XXIII. That means #23, although I have painted it more times than that – I didn’t begin numbering them right away, and then I lost track for awhile and may have used a number twice, so who really knows?

Square? Vertical? Horizontal? Small or medium? I have the large one hanging in my dining room, but am willing to sell it. Maybe.

More will be revealed in the fullness of time.

More Sawtooth Paintings Completed

Sawtooth Peak is the third most popular Mineral King subject that I oil paint. (First is the classic view of Farewell Gap with the Crowley cabin and second is the Honeymoon Cabin.)

This is a 6×6″ painting, donated to Exeter’s Courthouse Gallery for their annual fund raiser art auction.
This is a wedding gift, a 10×10″ oil painting for a former drawing student who shall remain nameless until after the wedding, although I may choose to protect the identity afterward too. It is good to be careful on the World Wide Web.

And remember the previous two Sawtooth paintings? This place is just filthy with Sawtooth; no wonder I go a little rogue from time to time and paint chickens.

Poultry Paintings

The poultry paintings are inching along. They might be a little bit too hard for me, so I am taking my time. Productive procrastination is a good way to get through some difficult tasks. I take breaks to rehab frames, blog, touch up old paintings, answer emails, make a new schedule for drawing lessons, sweep, or water plants. All those things need to be done. I’m the boss of me. There is no deadline on the poultry paintings. They aren’t commissions. I have a commission to work on but it is a secret, and the recipient of the project might be a reader of this blog. So, poultry paintings in increments are what you get to see.

Have I convinced myself that it is okay to procrastinate yet?

This is the latest iteration of the rooster named Dinnerbone and the flock, with the appropriate and clever name of “Flock”. (And the rooster painting title is “Dinnerbone”, because I am creative that way.)

Samson discovered my friend’s car, which is named Hot Wheels. She is clever that way. (My car is named Fernando – thank you for being interested in such important personal details.)

Words to Paint By

“A yard is hard, but an inch is a cinch.”

I heard this recently while listening to an interview on one of my favorite podcasts. This is my approach to oil painting. Just inch along and eventually it will look finished. Then, stop looking at it, let it dry, sign it, scan it, varnish it and move on.

There is also another saying rattling around in my brain as I inch along. This one came from one of my drawing students.

“Good, better, best, Never let it rest, ‘Til your good is better, And your better is the best.”

If I stuck with this, I wouldn’t be able to finish any oil paintings at all! As it is, I jump at any chance to improve, to have a do-over, to repair something I drew or painted awhile ago.

And one more, although I’m not sure it relates to oil painting:

“What someone else thinks of me does not become my assignment.”

What someone else thinks of my painting matters quite a bit. If he likes it, he might buy it. If he likes me, he might buy it. So, perhaps what someone else thinks of my painting does become my assignment.

Good grief, maybe I should listen to music while I paint.

Two + Two + Two On the Easels

Two + two + two? What is that weird Central California artist talking about this time?

Last Monday, I worked on six oil paintings, two of which ones needed touching up. While at the backyard boutique, I saw some areas in a painting that could stand a bit of improvement. When I got home, I saw another painting that needed a boost.

So I painted some diagonal black stripes in it.

JUST KIDDING! Those are shadows from the window pane dividers. But I did some color and light correction on this painting. (The other one needs to dry before I rescan it.)

Then I finished two oil paintings of Sawtooth, one to give as a gift and the other to give as a donation. Wait. That’s a gift too. But, it is an asked-for gift, so I don’t know if it counts as a gift. Where’s my dictionary? What does “gift” actually mean?

Never mind. Here are the paintings before I finished them. They need to dry before getting scanned.

Then, I gave some thought to whether I’d be able to finish any paintings before the next event, The Perfect Gift Boutique, on Friday and Saturday of Thanksgiving week. I decided to begin two new paintings. My oil paintings start out so messy-looking that I wondered if this was a good decision. I did a sketch to see if these 2 photos could be blended onto a 6×18″ canvas. Still looks terrible.

Okay, I get it now. 

Looking more hopeful in spite of needing more work. In fact, it is looking so hopeful that I began another of the same subject.Even upside down, you can probably tell what this is. 

See? two + two + two = six oil painting projects, three different types. Two fixes, two Sawtooths, two poultry. Fowl. Chickens. Birds.

P.S. There are also two unfinished oil paintings just hanging around, collecting spider webs.

Walnuts in My Art

Do you like walnuts? When I was a kid, I thought gleaning was punishment, in spite of being paid a king’s ransom of 25¢ a bucket. There were always stinging nettles on the ground, and it was boring. Then, I would say to my poor mama, “WHY do you have to put walnuts in EVERYTHING??”

I grew up. 

Look at the walnuts in my art. These are only the ones that I saved photos of; I did two other pencil commissions with walnuts before I had a digital camera, a computer and a blog.

This won a prize in the Madera ag art show AND, this is bigger to me, it sold. The title: “With, Please”.
A friend commissioned me to paint seven 2×2″ oils of important crops in California. Left to right, top to bottom (in case you can’t figure these out): fig, apricot, navel orange, lemon, valencia orange, walnut, almonds. (Hi, Craig!)
This pencil drawing was commissioned earlier this year as a gift for the retiring farm manager. (Hi John! Were you surprised?)
This page is inside my coloring book, “Heart of Agriculture”.

Heart of Agriculture is available here.

Oh Mom, do I HAVE to put walnuts in EVERYTHING??

Three Orange Oil Paintings, Completed!

Whoa. That was a sprint. Three new orange oil paintings in a week’s time, begun and completed.

This is the original orange painting; it is drying in the window because I had to re-sign it so that the frame wouldn’t cover my name.
Top orange completed. The color and clarity are definitely better after the 2nd coat. Good thing.
It was very helpful to have the original painting right there to match the colors.
Two down, one to go.
Compare the bottom painting in this photo to how it looks in the photo above.

It is a privilege to be thought of when local businesses have Art Emergencies; it is a thrill to be able to handle those situations. I’m very happy to be able to help, and particularly happy to help out in ag and especially in citrus.

Lovies,

Your happy orange painter