Thoughts | Cabin Art

Thoughts on Plein Air Painting

A friend wanted to hear my thoughts on plein air painting, so I wrote to her about it. Several other friends said they hadn’t known what the words meant until I started my detour down that road. (Or maybe it will become my main road. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.)

Plein air means “open air”. (Thank you, Dan!)

There is a snobbery in the art world, an attitude that real artists paint plein air. Studio artists? Meh, anyone can do that. I had a college professor who belittled those of us who signed up for photorealism studio painting; I quit at 1/2 a semester because he didn’t teach what he dismissed as “smoke and mirrors”.

Plein air is difficult for several reasons, including bugs and weather. There are no boundaries to the scene that ultimately will be enclosed by specific borders. Artists have to be able to see and decide what they plan to paint, ignore what they will not paint, and arrange those things in a pleasing manner. In order to “erase” the unnecessary details, they squint so that nothing remains except dark and light masses. When mixing the colors, the artists come up with an average color for various areas. They simplify textures, and memorize light when it appears in order to put it in at the end. And, it is assumed that a plein air painter will finish the painting “alla prima”, which means in one session.

An aside about the art world: why the extra languages? Plein air is French; alla prima is Italian. Go figure.

In order to finish something alla prima, one has to work very quickly and finish an entire painting within 3-4 hours. Artists who are honest will tell you that many paintings are finished in the studio later. This is possible even without photos, because very little is done with tight detail. The proportions are usually in place, so it is probably just values (the darks and lights) and color correcting that happens later.

The art world loves to throw around the term “painterly”, which I have concluded simply means “messy”. Since I was 8 years old, I have worked hard to see details, to have distinct, clear edges to things, and I find it completely counterintuitive to purposely blur things. But, I am willing to learn, to try, to improve (but how will I know if I have improved or if I have added more details than are allowed?)

Painting plein air is a great skill for several reasons:

Sometimes I need to paint quickly.

There are many people who like the softer, blurrier paintings that lack detail but focus on shapes and colors.

I live part time in a National Park, where being able to paint quickly could be a great business opportunity.

Since taking the 3 day workshop in Georgia 2 weeks ago, I have been able to produce many paintings. (I haven’t shown them all to you.)

So, my conclusion is that the skills are very valuable and that I will practice them: painting quickly, focusing on good composition and correct colors (not entirely perfect, just colors that look right together in a scene). Some of this will be done while looking at a scene in person; some of it will be done looking at photos. I won’t be able to paint like Laurel Daniel, but I can paint more simply than I have in the recent past and still add enough details to retain my own “voice” (and some dignity).

MAY MEANS THE ANNUAL REDBUD FESTIVAL IS COMING THIS MONTH!

What I Learned in April

The summary of what I learned in April doesn’t seem to fit my normal end of month list. A paragraph will suffice.

In April I learned how to plein air paint. I also learned to use a cell phone, how to navigate the world of travel that is now dependent on cell phone ownership, usage, and competency, and that a green lizard in Georgia is actually called an “anole”. I learned that a small cat can have 5 kittens, that a cat with a stump of a tail can have tailed cats, stumpies, and rumpies. (We don’t know yet if the “rumpie” is healthy. Stay tuned.)

So, here is a beautiful and dramatic photo for you (because it was a beautiful and dramatic month) and tomorrow we will resume our adventures in plein air painting.

Final Plein Air Painting Day in Georgia

So many things to choose from for my final plein air painting.

More “tabby cabins”. I don’t know why that name bugs me. Maybe because it is whitewashing a segment of our history.

THIS is what I wanted to paint, but minus the palms.

Like this, but waiting for the light, which Laurel explained would come soon.

Step one, only 2 hours to complete this.

Step two, adding in the dark colors which make the light places appear.

Preparations for a wedding on the outside of the chapel. That’s unusual. I thought people got married INSIDE churches. But actually, very few do anymore. That’s a different topic for a different sort of blog.

Time for the critique. I didn’t get a good photo of this painting but have asked my hostess to photograph it for me when it is dry. I left it on top of her refrigerator.

And that’s all, folks. Suddenly, the carriage turned into a pumpkin. I told Laurel that the entire experience was so perfect that I’d think it was just a dream if I wasn’t sweating so much in the humidity.

So, back to the host and hostess’s home in Brunswick, rearrange all my supplies to pack for flying, say a quick good-bye (like ripping off a bandaid), hit the road for a silent drive back to Jacksonville (since I never did figure out the fancy radio), return the car, oops, go back to gas up the car (less than $3/gallon in Florida when it is over $4 now in Calif.), get a ride to the hotel, find some dinner (grits! because I was in the south), fall into bed for a 4 a.m. wake-up call. “Pumpkin”? More like a squash.

It was a fabulous adventure, a time of new sights, learning, friendships, challenges, new wildflowers, and, umm, sweating.

Sightseeing in Georgia

After class on day 2 and before class on day 3, I went driving around, looking for things, taking in all the sights. I love exploring!

There is always time to look at wildflowers.

Laurel told me this church, which was in the Eugenia Price novels, was a must-see. When she said Eugenia is buried in the adjoining cemetery, I asked for directions. Something was happening inside the church, so I didn’t go inside.

I wondered around among the graves, but didn’t take many photos. It was tempting, because I saw a plot called “Graves” and another one called “Coffin”. There was also one called “Outlaw”. These were people’s names, of course.

I met someone who showed me what I was looking for.

The next morning I drove through the Victorian neighborhood of Brunswick, just being a looky-loo. It isn’t often I get to see such fabulous houses or such a variety of architecture, so I was definitely gawking.

For sale. I wonder how much they are asking. I ducked it (DuckDuckGo is my preferred search engine) and saw there are 800-1600 homes for sale there. Not gonna find this one easily.

Churches on every corner. I didn’t have time to capture them all, but none were the plain-Janes of Tulare County.

I couldn’t figure out the meaning of this. Finally my host explained it to me. It means that bridges ice up sooner than the roads do.

These flowers were profuse and beautiful. I bought a wildflower guide to learn the name. None of the people I was hanging out with had much interest in wildflowers, definitely not the way we have been going gaga in Tulare County this spring.

Marsh, marsh, marsh. This is one of the draws of the area. What’s the difference between a marsh and a swamp? Do people go wading out in the marshes? Are there wildflowers out there? wildlife? Do people drown? So many questions.

My wildflower guide was grossly inadequate.

But, it did have the name of this beauty, an unfortunate moniker of “Spiderwort”. What??

Learned in March

It is possible that I didn’t learn much in March. Perhaps I spent too much time on hold with both Huge & Rude and Small & Bumbling. But now we have faster internet, so that’s a good thing.

FWIW means For What It’s Worth. (Thank you, SD!)
Donald Miller has a podcast and is a delight to listen to. I’ve always liked his writing (Blue Like Jazz, Searching for God Knows What, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Scary Close), and now he has a business called Storybrand, where he helps people market their products by telling their stories.
I figured out a new tool for teaching people to draw. (Why did it take 25 years? I didn’t have the tech skills and equipment until a few years ago – there’s one excuse.)
One of my new students taught me a little trick for seeing things when you don’t have your cheater magnifying glasses. Make a mini telescope with your fist, put it to your best eye, and look through it at the thing you are trying to read. It helps a little.
I relearned that everything is harder than one expects it to be. We have Spectrum, finally, sort of. It took 5 days of visits by 6 different installers, and another visit by some sort of technician (or more–I’ve lost track). I still have no phone in the studio, but finally bought enough gizmos to bounce the internet signal to the outbuildings. The sales boy sold this to us on February 7, and now it is April 1. Am I a fool? Nope, but I’ve been fooled by Small & Bumbling into thinking the switchover would be easy.
Posts about walks I take garner more comments than posts about drying paint (unless it is the progress of a mural).
Getting a new book is fun fun fun! (I already knew that, but just wanted to push Mineral King Wildflowers a little bit.)

My new teaching tool shows 4 versions of the same image. The students in my most recent workshop really took it and ran with it. They were very quick to pick up the techniques of drawing.

100 page paperback, flowers in photos, common names only, lots of chatty commentary, $19.78 including tax (unless you pay cash because I’m not making change or unless my website charges you, and I can’t figure out why it does that sometimes and not others.)

Heart Rock Walk

My walking partner and I walk several roads in our neighborhood, often so early in the a.m. that we need flashlights. (We’ve learned the traffic patterns, cross the highway carefully and listen for cars–thank you for your concern.) A few years ago we began noticing heart rocks in the asphalt on one particular road. On Sunday, I took my camera and we found 10 heart rocks! Today I’ll show you five, along with a little bit of scenery (yep, trespassing again.) The rock photos were taken after the scenery ones, on the way back home when the light was better. They are all about an inch high in real life.

The blurry photo caused me to keep this one small for you. We debated on whether or not it qualified.

This is early in the morning, so the light is not very conducive to great photography. But oh my, what a beautiful fence and entry gate!

At least with the poor light, you won’t know where I was trespassing and turn me in!

Tomorrow I’ll show you the rest of the heart rocks and the rest of the walk in better light.

Learned in February

Did I learn anything in February of this year?

Maybe.

Spectrum is giving Huge & Rude a run for their money. We want to switch: landlines, television, internet. As with everything, it is easy-peasy when you talk to a salesman but muy complicated in reality. So far, we are still with Huge & Rude, and our phones have been out multiple times in 2019. Plus, the internet is too slow to send my wildflower book to the printer.
Books are never quick. Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names is supposed to be in hand for an April 27 signing. No matter how many times I proof or pass it to someone else to proof, another error gets found. And it got bid as a black and white book instead of a full color one – ouch.
Parkas aren’t waterproof – nylon, goretex, nope. 4 different ones within the past 32 years. Polyester might be waterproof. Probably not. My walking buddy and I have had lots of opportunities to test various parkas during February.
Seaglass is getting harder to find and the pieces are smaller. This decline in availability will continue. I learned this from reading The Ultimate Guide to Sea Glass by Mary Beth Beuke.
In order to better publicize a book, authors should have a website (oh-oh, my books are hitch-hiking along with my art sites) with a media kit. It took almost an entire day to write all the little parts and pieces required for this, but now I have one on my other website, The Cabins of Wilsonia. This is all required in order to be considered to make a presentation to the Fresno County Friends of the Library about my book The Cabins of Wilsonia. Yeppers, I have a Media Kit page on that site, which will serve as a model for Mineral King Wildflowers.
I am a Questioner. This is how I learn. Here is a question: Who wants to go from Bakersfield to Merced, or the reverse direction? That’s what California’s infamous bullet train is now reduced to. I will probably ride it, if they allow 100 year olds on.
Did you know that corn will kill us? I got snagged into one of those click-bait websites with the line of “which vegetable do you need to stop eating immediately?” Then the dude talked forever about his various credentials before finally saying it was corn. Sure, Mr., thanks. I saved you the temptation of following that link and waiting to hear which vegetable will kill you. You’re welcome.

Now I need soothing, and perhaps you do too. In fact, let’s change gears entirely and I’ll show you a lovely late afternoon of feeding cattle from the back of a little ATV with the Captain.

They heard the machine and all headed right toward us.

Can’t remember (or tell from this photo) if this was The Bull. I was so enchanted by the golden late afternoon light that I forgot to be scared. Besides, don’t bulls have horns?
I know nothing except that cow poo is very slippery.

I’ve been warned many times to not trust Brahma Mama, and now that she has a calf, to be especially careful. Not sure what that means when standing around tossing flakes of hay toward her.

Look at these little beeves! (Is that the plural of beef?)

This blondie might not have any teeth, which is why she prefers eating the little bits that have fallen into the back of the machine. Her ears look soft, but she doesn’t want them touched.

My view from the so-called “safe” place inside the machine. I love this light.

And thus we conclude another February, a month that I find way too short here in Central California.

The Lake as a Metaphor

Prepare yourself for a long essay today. I hope you can recover from this major bloviation by tomorrow when I post about early spring in Three Rivers. Yes, I still work . . . you can see more paintings in progress next week. But February is my favorite month, so for now I am choosing to show you the beauty of Three Rivers instead of paintings in progress.

While at Kaweah Lake recently with Trail Guy, it occurred to me that our lake can serve as a metaphor for life in Tulare County. Think about these comparisons.

Tulare County is in the Central Valley, California’s “flyover country”, meaning the part people just blow through or over to get where they really want to go, like San Francisco, Napa Valley, Los Angeles, Death Valley, or Yosemite (“Oh dear, must we first go to Fresno? horrors!”).

While puttering around on the lake bottom (more around the edges, because it has been filling up lately), I thought of all the people flying past on the highway above, probably unaware of what the lake below has to offer. Isn’t a lake for sailing? This one, not so much. How about water skiing? Sure, in the earlier half of summer, not in February. Looks empty, meh, keep driving.

Here was the stone fireplace; over there must have been the bathroom. A small living space with large views in a great location.

Tulare County is poor and uneducated, with bad air, fat people, high welfare, diabetes and teen pregnancies. Not too appealing, eh?

Kaweah Lake’s drained floor is kind of cruddy. We pick up aluminum cans and shake out the mud and gross stuff before squashing them. We slip and slide on the slimy mud that is coating the old road. We pick cockleburs out of our shoelaces and the shaggy edges of my unhemmed jeans. There is a lot of trash and broken things. It is a cheap place to visit for recreation compared to Sequoia—$4-5 per car instead of $30-35 for Sequoia. (Can’t remember exactly, so I am guessing at the actual numbers.)

Tulare County has been my home for almost 60 years (minus a few misguided years in college), and I work hard to find the good things here, particularly as an artist, looking for beautiful ways to represent my turf.

The lake bottom has treasures, whether it is aluminum cans for my friend’s Hawaii fund, Indian grinding holes, or an occasional blue marble or oyster shell (mysterious finds, indeed). Don’t forget, it also has beautiful views, lots of birds, and a few wildflowers too.

Tulare County’s main industry is agriculture. We feed the world, producing more food than any other place in the country (except Fresno County, because we trade off with them to be king).

Kaweah Lake was built as water storage for agriculture (but flood control was its primary purpose).

Disc Golf Association? A frisbee golf course!

Sometimes there are surprising peeks at beautiful views.

Tulare County has Sequoia National Park, a major recreational destination.

Kaweah Lake is a countywide draw for those who love to recreate on water.

Where in your life are you overlooking beauty, history, treasures, and recreational opportunities right under your nose, because it seems meh, boring, cruddy, and beneath you?

Kaweah Lake Three Rivers

Boring Beginnings

The beginning of painting a new series is a very boring factory-type assembly line of assigning inventory numbers, choosing titles, and attaching hanging hardware. Then all the canvases have to be primed, or “toned” in Art Speak. I just use whatever blend of colors I find in the bottom of my turpentine jar for this task.

Actually, before I begin the boring part, there is a brain-stretching exercise. It involves looking through previous years’ sales, seeing which subjects and sizes have been the most popular, looking through my existing inventory, and then making educated guesses about subjects, sizes, and quantities of each. Then I review my extensive photo files and make more guesses about what to paint.

These on the floor have already been primed from a previous ambitious painting session.

It was too loud in the workshop for Tucker. He’s kind of sensitive.

At least Scout and Trail Guy were in the workshop with me. Trail Guy was working on a project, talking to himself and to the radio and sometimes to me. Scout was napping in the sunshine in the window.

I ran out of hardware and out of room, so I walked home.

Heading Home

I’ve spent many nights away from home in the past month. The drive between home and away is so beautiful this time of year that I want to show you a few photos. I hold the camera up to the window while driving and not looking at the camera screen, so any photo that is sort of okay is lucky. Then I edit the lucky shots.

Someone has graffitied my initials in my favorite color on this road sign.

Would any of these photos make good paintings? Or am I just blinded by green love? If I paint these, can I write off my mileage? Or can I write off my mileage because I am considering these to be paintable?

I can’t stand tax season. But I love this time of year. Life is full of contradictions, dilemmas, incongruities, paradoxes, always at the same time. Thank goodness there are goods happening at the same time as bads.

Category: Thoughts