On the way to Ivanhoe on Friday morning, a clear, sunny, and cold morning, I pulled over for a few photos of oranges.
Is that center orange rotting on the tree??
The mountains were very visible from the library’s address. (Just keep your eyes above the waste.)
Intern and I had a brief discussion about what needed to be done next, I let him choose the task he preferred, and we dove right in. I took no photos until I had worked on the lettering and begun the auditorium.
The oranges still weren’t bright enough on the right side. Intern worked on those.
I began with the auditorium inset and then moved to the label. What a thrill to use all those bright colors! Of course, sunshine made a huge difference.
This is the first time I’ve seen sunshine on the wall. I kept taking photos because it was so interesting and fun (easily amused here.)
It felt as if I was treading water, and the more I did, the more I saw that needed to be done. After standing back and running through a mental list, I sorted the tasks into ones that Intern can do and ones that I need to do. He had left for the day, so I had to decide what I might be able to finish in the remaining hours. If sections are left partially finished, I have less of a sense of forward motion.
I chose to work on the mountains, finally deciding that Sawtooth needed to move south (to the right, both in real life and on the wall) and needed to be smaller.
too round-toppedbettersmaller SawtoothHard to tell with the spotty sunCastle RocksKaweah drainage more realistic
See? Castle Rocks!
See? The Kaweah drainage and repaired Alta Peak!
The daylight is lasting incrementally longer each week, and I was able to work until 4:30. The setting sun made for a different kind of lighting on the final photo. Check out the shadow cast by the fruitless mulberry, that is STILL holding onto some leaves.
Today I will be painting on the Ivanhoe library mural, Lord willing, the Creek, etc. The past two days have been seriously disrupted by many hours on the phone trying to solve the website problem, which also took down my email.
If I was a smoker, it would have been a couple of 2-pack days.
Contemplation
I really contemplated whether or not it is possible to run an art business without a website. Many artists only use Facebook and/or Instagram. Having dabbled in those several years ago, my gut instinct is NO NO NO NO. And NO!
There are no Yellow Pages, direct mail is cost prohibitive and cannot be easily updated, and I’m not inclined to wear an A-frame sign or a weird chicken costume and stand on a street corner. I don’t want to rent public space when I have my most excellent studio and painting workshop here at home, an easy 35-second commute by foot from the house.
So, my inclination is to just relax and recover, and then look into another hosting company. BlueHost used to be based in Arizona, and humans were accessible here in the United States without a robot on the phone to direct you to another country where some poor (but very smart) person with an accent (occasionally accompanied by background children or roosters) would keep reassuring you that they really were sorry for your problem and would do their best to help. It wasn’t until after a series of phone calls that added up to 5 hours (yes, I counted) when I insisted that the case needed to be escalated and stated that I will look for another server/host company that I got an email saying the problem was resolved.
Maybe it is resolved; however, my confidence in BlueHost has taken a hard battering, and there may be a separation in our future.
Techie Details
They upgraded me to an expensive plan, which I declined. They moved me to a more reasonable plan, which included a $199 “migration fee”. Then they neglected to “migrate” my site to the reasonable plan; on one call I was reassured that it had been done, and it worked briefly. Next, the email that is attached to the website ceased functioning, and I was told that it had not been migrated. WELL, MIGRATE ALREADY!
Ugh. Can we talk about something more pleasant? Let’s lift our eyes until the hills. . . from whence does our help come? Not from tech, that’s for sure and for certain!
In case you are wondering, all the previous days’ blog posts croaked with my website. So, here is the best I can do to recreate the most current day for you.
These orange trees have been “skirted”, which means pruned so nothing touches the ground.
I tried to fix the trees on the mural to appear this way. Tricky business. . .
Intern and I mixed a paint color for the inset of the Ivanhoe Elementary Auditorium.
My mom and her brother helped a little bit.
To work on the auditorium, I would have had to sit in the mud. Instead, I sat on the slimy log to work on the inset of Twin Buttes.
The mural looked like this at the end of day #8.
And thus we end the abbreviated version of Day Eight on the Ivanhoe Library Mural.
Now I’m going to either bang my head on the wall or try to learn to back up all my posts so this doesn’t continue to happen OR I’m going to look for an alternative to BlueHost.
My website croaked. I called the server? host? platform? something to ask for help on Tuesday morning, January 6. The man on the phone said he could see what happened, fixed it, and it would be fine in about 10 minutes.
It wasn’t.
Twelve hours later, it was back, but nothing after December 30, 2025, appeared on the blog, and the 1/2 price calendar sale also didn’t show.
I found the draft of the Learned List from December, but it only showed nine things instead of the twelve I eventually came up with. I published it immediately as it was.
Now I have to figure out how to get my email working again.
Maybe I’ll rewrite some of the posts from earlier this week, if I can remember what I said.
Maybe I’ll just take up smoking.
Prolly not. Fret not. I’d rather eat dark chocolate. Or complain about tech. (“If sin enticeth thee, consent thou not.” Proverbs 1:10)
Wouldn’t you just know that it croaked the day after I mailed out a newsletter that announced there are a few slots left in the beginning drawing workshop and that the calendars are half-price now? Prolly missed a bunch of sales and signups. Or not, but I won’t know. Now the calendar won’t even appear in my online store.
Oh well. Here’s the flyer about the beginning drawing workshop.
P.S. If you want a calendar, email me at cabinart [zero] [six} at sbcglobal dot net because that email works (trusting that you will be able to decipher it correctly).
P.P.S. A broken website is a nothing-burger in light of what several dear friends are going through: one recently lost her son to suicide; another has cancer in his bones (Dudes, get your PSA checked even if your doctor says it isn’t needed after 70—it’s only a blood test, not a nasty procedure); yesterday I learned that yet another has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. That’s all Very Very Difficult stuff; a website can be repaired, lost posts can be written, workshops can be given with empty seats, and unsold calendars can be tossed if too much time passes.
Today will be a peek into the variety of tasks required so far this week to maintain the business of self-employed artist.
I expected to paint on the Ivanhoe Library mural twice this week, but they are closed. Until/unless they provide a key to the building, I will only be painting on the days they are open. (I wonder if they regret not providing a key?) Good thing Rep found out for me, and that Intern is flexible.
2. The host of my website and blog billed me an enormous sum of $$$, an upgrade to Professional Hosting. Because I use DuckDuckGo, I couldn’t go onto my account and see what was happening. It took awhile, but when I figured out that I needed to use Safari to log on, I called the company and reached a helpful human. She said I’ve been paying for 20 GB of storage and am currently up to 46 GB. (I know, no speakie.) We worked out a compromise, where I pay about $250 less than the billed amount, which includes another year. I will begin deleting old blog posts and the photos in order to not exceed 50 GB. (I know lbs. but am unsure of GB, except that it is greater than MB, which is greater than KB. Took a couple of decades to get that far in my understanding.)
3. Deleting old blog posts is in my immediate future. Because I post 5 days a week and have been since 2008, that is a lot of material. Frankly, no one cares. Sometimes when I look at old posts, related to current post in order to link to them and perhaps get discovered by more readers, I then see that the photos are missing, or the format is wonky. 2008 seems new to me in terms of vehicles we drive, but in terms of the interwebs, it is just plain historical.
Well, that was a lot and kind of boring. Let’s look at an odd job that recently came my way. I get these from time to time because A. I am the only artist that many people know; B. I return phone calls and emails and follow up; C. My prices don’t scare people. Most people, that is.
But I digress.
4. A friend has beautiful carved cupboard doors in his kitchen (I guess in his kitchen—I’ve not been inside his house). He had one extra, and decided it would look great as art on the wall. He asked me to enhance it.
We weren’t exactly sure if this would work, so I sent some samples, in which I applied a little bit of oil paint, seeking his approval, and then wiped it off if it wasn’t fitting his vision.
First, a touch of purple was approved.
This green was too light.
I wiped it off and replaced it with this one, which was approved.
This was really fun—very subtle, transparent so the wood color and grain still comes through, and very forgiving.
5. My printer kept saying it was jammed. I practiced some insanity of following the unjamming steps over and over despite it not having any paper jammed in it, and then it began working again. I only had to go through the steps about seven times.
Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve (which follows Christmas Adam), I will continue the assorted thoughts.
Thank you, and Blessed Christmas Adam, Dear Readers.
P.S. Calendars are still available. Look here for the info. Or email me here: cabinart [at] cabinart [dot] net. (Written that way because of internet gremlins.)
P.P.S. The Beginning Drawing Workshop is still open for registration. Look at this blog post from Monday for the details.
Have you heard that people prefer experiences to possessions? Some do, some don’t. If you know someone who does, here is an idea for a Christmas gift.
In case you are wondering, the workshop will take place in Three Rivers, at the Bequette House which is part of the Three Rivers Historical Museum. I am doing this workshop in conjuction with Stem & Stone, a little store here in Three Rivers. Hannah, to whom you RSVP, is one of the owners.
Today I thought I would be painting on the library mural, but my wrist hurts so I will wait until next week to return to the wall. Didn’t want you to think I was taking a nap or just loafing around. Instead of painting either on a wall or on a canvas, I am editing a book. Light typing and careful reading doesn’t hurt.
Meanwhile, maybe you want to order a calendar, either by emailing me directly (cabinart at cabinart dot net), using Paypal on my website, or chasing me down in a parking lot somewhere, if you recognize Mom’s Car.
This happened yesterday. First, I went to the post office to mail some packages of this painting and some calendars.
From the PO I jaywalked across the highway to the bank to deposit moola from the day before in Tulare and a check paying for this painting, which sold at the Mural Gallery.
When I got home, there were sirens, more sirens, lights, more sirens, and every type of emergency vehicle imaginable going past. A friend, a neighbor, and the mail lady drove into our driveway all at the same time, everyone speculating and sharing what they knew. Trail Guy, L (the friend), and I decided to walk down to see what we could see. When we got there, about 1/2 of the emergency vehicles had left, so we were feeling hopeful that it wasn’t as awful as first imagined.
The driver doesn’t know what happened—just driving, then sideways. The windshield was completely smashed on the driver’s side, because that is the way the driver was extracted. The driver wasn’t hurt, just puzzled and embarrassed and dismayed and every other emotion when your life is suddenly disrupted to this degree with multiple uniforms surrounding you. (Yes, keeping things anonymous here.)
I walked back home, puzzled, a bit worried about what happened to the driver, and just slayed by the clarity of the day.
Some paperwork was demanding attention in the studio, because if one doesn’t stay current, one will miss expenditures and deposits and emails and real mail, no matter how much one thinks she will remember later. And no matter how careful she thinks she has been, the end-of-the-year bookkeeping is always a little ragged. It didn’t take too long, and I felt rather smug about handling it so efficiently (which somewhat balances out the irritation of those ragged parts in the year-end machinations.)
After puttering around with mural paints in preparation for the next painting day, which was an excuse to be outside in the sunshine, I finally moved into the painting workshop to see if I could progress on the Yellow Tunnel.
First, more blue patches in the cottonwoods.
The humanoid is very intimidating, frankly, just too hard… inadequate photos, and very small. I won’t be quitting, but today wasn’t the day for this degree of precision. (Yikes on the skin color, complete uncertainty on almost everything else.)
Edges! I’ll paint the edges! Trouble is, the top of the canvas is quite a bit above my vision. I moved the easel to the floor and in the process I banged my bad wrist, which I thought was well enough to stop wearing the brace. (De Quervain’s Tennosynovitis, now in the 14th month of trying to rob me of joy.) Holy guacamole, how will I be able to work on the mural Friday?
I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Intern will be with me, so we’ll figure something out. I was able to do this upper edge of the canvas, but then I quit for the day because ow. OW. OW. Dang it dang it dang it.
I was able to do a bit of texting, keeping current with the customer on my progress. There is a great big distance between us geographically, which can make a customer feel a bit nervous. This customer and I are actually good friends, so he isn’t nervous, and I just like to stay in contact.
He mentioned an interest in another painting to go with this one (which is to go with another one he owns), so I mentioned these two, which are still available. Pushy artist, eh? Nope, helpful. I hope. (The colors are SO MUCH BETTER IN PERSON.)
And since I am being a helpful artist, here is the calendar for your consideration. Prolly won’t make it by Christmas, but it will make it by January 1 if you order soon, depending on your location. $25 includes mailing and tax.
Last century I drew this picturesque church in Tulare and used the image in a set of Tulare County landmarks notecards.
Yesterday I finally got to see the interior of the church when I made a presentation to a group of folks who meet for lunch and a presentation once a month. (I don’t know the name of the group but it is the historic Tulare Congregational Church.)
This is the first time in my life that a church event began with champagne!
Fret not, this was before most of the group arrived.
I prepared a powerpoint presentation called God Showed Up, which was an overview of my unlikely career of artist in a place that can barely afford to keep gas in their cars, phones up-to-date, and acrylic on their nails. This could be a slight exaggeration, but you get the point. The only explanation for all the unexpected events and apparent success (I’m still here, still producing work!) is that God intervened in my career.
They requested that I come an hour early. Good thing, because it took an entire hour to figure out how to get the projector to work with my thumb drive. Maybe the champagne was a good idea to take the edge off. (Nope, not me, because I don’t imbibe.)
I loved seeing the place, getting reacquainted with some folks I’d met before, and meeting some new folks. They were good listeners and seemed interested.
Making presentations is just one element of my little art business, and it is a more enjoyable way for me to meet people and keep my work visible than doing the art/craft fairs, festivals, bazaars and boutiques.
P.S. Lunch was outstanding, because it came from the wonderful Tulare restaurant called The Eden Cafe..
The wonder of the interwebs has brought me a customer that I most likely will never have the pleasure of meeting in person. Let’s call the customer Mr. J. Mr. J and I have gotten acquainted in the comment section of The Frugal Girl blog, and he asked me to paint the home he used to own. “Used to own” means that getting photos is now a bit tricky. New owners almost always make changes, so I am working from several photos, all taken from different viewpoints and at different times in the home’s existence.
Mr. J is a very precise communicator, responsive, specific, and always willing to email, text or talk on the phone.
The project began with an email almost a year ago. We discussed canvas sizes and prices. Mr. J wanted to wait until spring to get photos with certain plants in bloom. Spring came and went with no photos. I’ve learned through the decades that until money exchanges hands, it is simply conversation. I didn’t bug him, knowing that he is a person who will follow through when he is ready.
This past summer, or perhaps early fall, he sent me photos and a deposit check for half down, so we were in business.
Looking through multiple photos taken from different angles, in different seasons, and at different times in the house’s life, I started with a colored pencil sketch, which I scanned and emailed for feedback.
Mr. J sent it back to me in this form: black and white, covered with notes.
I studied it, and realized we needed to have a conversation. We talked quite awhile, and I made lots of notes. The conversation was very helpful in understanding things that made no sense in the multiple photographs.
When I realized the degree of detail that Mr. J wants, I suggested a pencil drawing. He was unsure, because the finished piece will be displayed with other paintings of other buildings. I sent examples of my detailed architectural drawings, and a week or two later, he replied that oil was his preference.
