Welcome to the World, New and Improved Oil Painting

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, and the photos don’t show up, you can see them by going to the blog on the internet. Tap or click cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

When paintings are slow to sell, it is a good art business practice to analyze them. This is best done with the help of someone who knows the customers. 

Recently I took a hard look at this painting, one that I had always liked, because I love seeing dogwood in bloom around redwood trees. But what if I am the only one who feels that way? I am here to earn a living, not to paint for myself. (Well, sometimes I do allow a painting to live in my house for awhile, but that isn’t the main point of all the easel time.)

I asked the proprietor of Kaweah Arts why she thought this hadn’t sold yet. She and I have been friends for many years, always honest with one another. I told her that I figured most of her customers don’t even know what dogwood is, because the bulk of them visit Sequoia National Park in the summer when the dogwood isn’t in bloom.

She very diplomatically replied that her customers are interested in the big trees alone. Of course they buy other items, but sequoia trees are what Sequoia National Park was formed around.

Together we evaluated the painting, and then I told her to remove it from the inventory list, because I was taking it back to the easels.

This is how it went.

Welcome to the world, new and improved

“Redwood, Dogwood”, oil on wrapped canvas, 12×16″, $325.

Odd Job, Chapter 3

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yesterday’s post about refreshing 2 signs left you hanging. I hope the anticipation of today’s continuation didn’t disrupt your sleep last night.

After applying 2 coats of the rim color, some confidence began developing. Time to tackle the narrow yellow line. You can see the old color in the middle; I put a bit of white on the left, and some brighter lightfast yellow on the right.

The yellow needed some red, along with a touch of white.

You might be able to tell that the upper yellow is now better, but since the lightfast yellow is transparent, it needed a primer coat beneath. No need to color fuss here because the goal is to make it look good.

As I painted the narrow line with white, I realized that the wood is quite splintery. This means that getting a smooth edge isn’t going to happen the entire distance on any of the sign. But, it is a sign, not a piece of fine art to be viewed closely.

With the warm weather, swamp cooler blowing, and big doors open, the paint dried quickly. I could paint one sign, turn and do the other, go back to sign #1 for the second coat, and then turn and second coat sign #2.

The white letters seemed like a good next step. These also soaked up the paint and required 2 coats. The rough edges bothered me at first. Then I remembered that this will be viewed from inside people’s cars, until they stop noticing at all. After 5 hours, I felt an unavoidable slide into Idiotland, where Sloppy, Stupid, and Careless all reside. Besides, my cheater-readers kept falling off when I leaned over the sign, and then I painted a blue streak on my face by accident.

So, that’s all on this Three Rivers custom art project for today. The quail and the narrow gray line surrounding the letters will require a strong focus (and a better fitting pair of cheater-reader glasses).

Odd Job, Chapter 2

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Because I am an artist in a small town, I get asked to do a variety of things.

This keeps me growing, learning, and becoming more capable of doing more odd jobs. Still, I start out a little unsure of where to begin and unsure of my abilities to git ‘er dun well.

The outer rim of each sign is a grayish blue, or perhaps a bluish gray. It looked pretty straightforward, both in the mixing and the application. I put these 2 colors together and made the gray on the top of the lid.

You can see that I tried a few versions.

Because my gray had a purplish cast, I put in a smidgeon of yellow, which is opposite purple on the color wheel. (The ArtSpeak word for that is “complementary color”, as in “complete” because its presence completes the 3 primary colors which can be blended to make every color in the world. Not white. White is the absence of color.)

A touch more white, and then it was close enough. 

Clearly I had to be very very careful because Pippin was underfoot.

Let’s continue tomorrow, shall we?

You’re an Artist, So Could You. . .? (Odd Job)

I recently bid on an odd job, one of those that comes to me like this: “You’re an artist, so could you. . .?”

This was a request to repaint 2 large redwood signs, originally sandblasted and painted in 1990.

The neighborhood’s budget didn’t match my bid, so I suggested that they do the scraping and sanding. They did, and then brought me the signs (there are 2 and this one gets the most sun so looks the worst).

Ready to work

Trail Guy set up 2 work tables using sawhorses in our painting workshop. (He doesn’t paint, but the workshop is also his place, so I can’t say “my painting workshop”.)

I set aside the unfinished Mineral King oil paintings that have no deadline in order to get this job done quickly for this Three Rivers neighborhood.

The subdivision asked me to seal the sign for sun damage protection. I know nothing about this. Mixing colors, refreshing tired paint, that’s what I know.

When you don’t know something, ask someone who does. Preferring someone with experience over someone with an opinion, I began thinking of people who might have knowledge to share.

My first contact was an old friend in Massachusetts with a sign business who referred me to someone in Mendocino who was kind enough to email me. I also found a sign company online in Charleston, South Carolina, filled out their contact form, expected and got nothing back. I called the man who sanded the signs to see if he knew who originally made them; he gave me the name and number of someone I worked for briefly back in 1986 (and have encountered several times since because that is the nature of Tulare County). That man gave me the name of a sign company that he thought might have made the signs, but they are going out of business. Their answering machine says to text with any questions, and so far, silence.

Next, I will show you my painting progress and process while I wait to see if Mendosign replies to my specific question about a sealant.

 

Messing With Other People’s Art

There have been several times in my career when I have been asked to change someone else’s art. I have repaired a torn canvas, changed a boulder in a painting that looked like a skull, fixed a child that looked like a little hunchback, and brightened colors in a dull painting. All these were done without knowing the original artist, and with assurance that the original artist would never know.

The Mineral King Room makeover was a different story. The original designer is highly educated, experienced and respected in The Art World. I am somewhat known in the local Art World, but I try to keep a low profile when it comes to any formal types of situation where I might be outed as a total DBO, mostly self-taught, Tulare County native. (You know how I feel about ArtSpeak. . . ugh.) 

I respect the original artist of the Mineral King Room and understand that she put a lot of thought into the design. The folks who approved the design were awed by her work, and didn’t think that there would be a strong reaction to the teal color and the stylized mountains, which were all effective from a designer’s point of view.

The approvers were mistaken about the reaction, which was strongly against the color and the mountain shapes. This necessitated a call to your Central California artist, who also is the local Mineral King artist.

The designer wasn’t pleased when she learned that I would be giving her design a makeover. (What artist would be??) I don’t blame her, because she chose all the shapes and colors based on her design expertise, to provide the best interpretive background for historic displays. She was professional and polite, while sounding as if she was defending a dissertation, not in a defensive way, but protective and offering the rationale for her design decisions.

My approach, on the other hand, also based on training and experience, is to simply please the customer. (My very wise dad taught me the all important business principle of “You kiss their fanny and take their money”.) We have to think about who the visitors and supporters of the Mineral King Preservation Society are, and what they will understand. The answer to that is that they love Mineral King, not a stylized version of it. (“Nosirree, I’ve climbed Sawtooth, and that ain’t it!”)

This is how the mountains surrounding the Mineral King valley really look.

So, with respect to the designer, who is very good at what she does, I just dove in and “corrected” her work. I don’t mean that it wasn’t good; it just wasn’t right for the audience.

Between Jobs

That’s “between paying jobs”. I didn’t charge my church, a decision I made many years ago—I will charge people in the church, but not jobs for the church.

What does an artist do when there aren’t commissions or upcoming shows? (Besides look out the window and contemplate matters of consequence).

(Or think about joining Pippin in a nap.)

(Or look out the window and wonder why this blooming shrub has the peculiar name of “pineapple guava”.)

Your Central California artist does these chores:

  1. Plan new paintings, based on the assumption (and experience) that current ones will sell, and the sellers will want replacements.
  2. Package notecards for a custom order.
  3. Balance the checkbook
  4. Sort through piles and toss or file all the stuff that seems to multiply in the dark
  5. Go to the bank (as a few checks trickle in)
  6. Write a few notes
  7. Contact drawing students who have missed for awhile to ask if they quit and forgot to tell me
  8. Write blog posts
  9. Answer the phone, learn of a request for a QUICK, CAN YOU HELP US RIGHT AWAY?, and dive in to planning the next job.

Okay, let’s roll!

Sold in April and May

It has been awhile since I did a Brag List. Perhaps it could be called a Reassurance List, because when my business hits a lull, it reassures me to see that work has sold recently.

Two Commissions, Continued

This is the best photograph I was able to get of the Fiftieth Bouquet. (It just occurred to me that I may not have actually titled the painting!) I was able to eliminate the shiny spots but cropped the left side a bit. One of the things that is always pounded in all art advice workshops, classes, books, and websites is to hire a professional photographer for one’s work.

Fall down laughing.

That might work for people who just complete one painting a month and then sell it for $5000 or $50,000, but that is not the way things work for this Central California artist. So, I bumble along with my PHD* camera. (My more expensive cameras have broken so I no longer waste money on them.)

I also inched along a bit more on my favorite subject.

Can’t wait to get back to this one, but then I will finish and have to say goodbye to it.

Life is a series of decisions, choices and consequences.

*Press Here Dummy

Painting Fast

Redbud Festival is a long-time event in Three Rivers that I remember from childhood. I have participated many times, but was just fine missing the past two years of festivals, bazaars, and arts/crafts fairs. 

I recently learned that the Redbud Festival will be happening again this year, Mother’s Day Weekend (May 7-8) at the Three Rivers Memorial Building. 

A friend who makes felted purses can only work on Saturday; I have plans for Saturday (the drawing workshop at Arts Visalia). So, we will share a booth, which she will run on Saturday and I will run on Sunday.

Oops. I hadn’t planned on this. Most of my work these days is commissions, or it is specifically for a gallery. 

These events need large colorful pieces in order to attract attention, but they also need smaller inexpensive pieces for people to actually buy. It might not be like that in a city, but a small unincorporated town in a relatively (for California) low population rural county is a whole different animal.

QUICK–Stop on the commissions that don’t have a solid deadline and figure out what might sell at the Redbud Festival! After an inventory and survey session, I gathered some small canvases, selected a few photos that might have good appeal for the weekend crowd of browsers, pulled those seven Mineral King paintings off the drying walls, and hit the ground running.

First, finish the almost finished poppy painting that I had set aside in order to paint the carnation and rose bouquet.

Next, do something fun: 6×6″ iris, my favorite flower which happens to be in bloom right now. I was able to mix the colors accurately by looking at the real thing instead of relying on photos.

I love flowers (not just the wild kind). These little 3″ square canvases are a size I haven’t tried before, so I ordered some mini easels to sell with them, paid extra for quicker shipping, and painted 2 different sunflowers.

Still had a little time left in the day, so I “went” to Mineral King.

Sidetracked and Distracted

Since we are nearing the end of my favorite time of year, I thought I’d give you a break from watching painted flowers develop and show you a bit of the rest of my world at the time I was painting that bouquet. 

There are many distractions when one works at home. 

First, my neighbor has this incredible plant, and I don’t know the name, but the deer haven’t eaten it yet, so I NEED the name, because I NEED this color.

The mail came, and it contained a package of 2 new yarns. I haven’t talked about knitting for awhile; didn’t want to lose any more readers than I’ve already lost because the emailed subscriptions don’t show photos on people’s phones. (Still unsolved; my web designer is still too busy.)

The pinkish red yarn might exactly match the few remaining flowering quince. As a self-proclaimed color junkie, I had to check, and yeppers, it matches. (Destined to be a baby blanket).

I also needed to know if the lavender matched my blooming lilacs.. Nope, not quite. This one is destined to become another sweater that I don’t need; my knitting is a continual triumph of hope over experience, just like my gardening efforts. Sometimes I get lucky and all the parts work out. Usually the sleeves are too tight or too loose, the buttons keep falling off, the ends don’t stay woven in, I find a dropped stitch after wearing it several times, the collar won’t lie down, it is too short and fat, it is too long and tight. . . you get the idea. (Baby blankets always fit their recipients.)

I really did have some work to do that day. When one is an artist in a small town (the sign for Three Rivers says 2600 but I don’t know if all those people really live here) where one’s life overlaps with friends on many levels, one is often privileged to help out. This was fun, but definitely best viewed from the back of a fast horse. (Would take too long to explain and I’ve already stretched your attention span by going on and on about color and knitting.).

On one of my trips back to the house (a 30 second trip on the Zapato Express*), the light was beautiful on the hillside.

The green and the wildflowers are so fleeting; my daffodils no longer look like this.

So, even though all this distraction and sidetraction (that’s a good word, don’t you agree?) is taking me from my real work, I believe that it is an artist’s obligation to absorb as much beauty as possible whenever it is available. That’s part of the business of art.

*Zapato Express means I walked.