Translation of the title: I started two new paintings, finished one painting, and completed one in a single painting session (called alla prima in ArtSpeak, which means you layer wet upon wet).
With a sequoia painting in the queue but not wanting to waste paint in non-sequoia colors on the palette, I chose to begin another little beach painting. Why not? I have the boards, and the colors were just waiting to be used. (Fret not—this will look good eventually. I made it really small here so you wouldn’t get scared. I’m thoughtful that way.)
A sequoia gigantea painting sold and needed to be replaced quickly at Kaweah Arts, because this is Sequoia Selling Season here in Three Rivers.
Another painting hasn’t garnered proper appreciation, so rather than just wait indefinitely for the right customer, I will turn it into something else. What else might that be? The Honeymoon Cabin in Mineral King, the little museum of the Mineral King Preservation Society.
Finally, here is our alla prima painting, another speedy piece of work because one sold and needs to be replaced quickly at the Silver City Store.
The paintings were all painted during a not-too-hot day when the swamp cooler was adequate, while knowing very hot weather was coming, perfect for quick drying. Paintings need to be dry before getting scanned (duh), and they need to be scanned (or photographed at the very least) before delivered to stores and galleries. This is particularly important when one paints the same scenes over and over and over. . .
In the lengthy month of May (why does 31 days feel so much longer than 30?) I spent time finding interesting things to ponder on the interwebs along with painting, planting native plants at my church, drawing a map, and getting used to the two-home rhythms of summer. I also took in the last wildflowers of spring in my neighborhood of Three Rivers.
1. Have you heard of the Scottish term “hurkle durkle”? It is explained here in this blog post on Optimistic Musings of a Pessimist. (Hi, Elisabeth!) It’s a verb that means to lie in bed in the morning until you feel like getting up.
2. My internet friend Elisabeth posted a list of the Five Best Beaches in Nova Scotia. Holy guacamole, good thing it is far away or the entire world would want to live there. Her photos! The beaches! (Thou shalt not covet, thou shalt not covet, thou shalt not covet…)
3. A friend offered use of his car when he learned of Fernando’s terminal diagnosis. LOOK AT THIS BABY!! (I know it’s not a Honda Accord.) I declined, because Fernando is still running just fine for the shortish distances in my life. What a generous and fabulous friend. . . who gets to have people like this in their lives??
4. Doing hard things and all the varieties of ways to incorporate this into everyday life, along with the reasons for doing these—great food for thought from the blog This Evergreen Home. It follows the same line of thinking as the book The Comfort Crisis, which I bought and read a year or two ago (and promptly gave away or lost). Still not interested in jumping into cold water or taking cold showers.
5. While we are talking about websites, there is an enormous quantity of wisdom on This Evergreen Life. Great fodder for introspection and conversation. . . shhhh, I need to think. Here is an example: “[Minimalism] insists that the cheapest item is the one you never purchase, the most efficient storage system is deletion, and the best bargain is time reclaimed when you no longer have to manage mountains of things.”
6. A dear friend has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (Who was Parkinson? Poor guy. . .) Her Movement Specialist Neurologist (that’s a medical specialty?) told her, “exercise is your medicine.” People with PD who exercise daily for 30 minutes at 80% of their maximum heart rate have significantly fewer symptoms and thus need less pharmaceuticals.
7. Ever heard of “money dials”? Ramit Sethi is a money guy who has coined this term. He lists the 10 most common “money dials” to help you find where you are most likely to spend any extra money; when you figure it out, you can turn the dial all the way up. (Why??)
8. I had a one-year follow-up appointment in Santa Barbara for this dadgum peripheral neuropathy. After some thought, I realized that the doc would confirm that yes, I still have it (well, duh, that is why my feet are still numb, I can’t comfortably wear any shoes except Crocs, and they really start hurting if I walk farther than 4 miles), and she’d remind me that there is no cure but to watch the prediabetes, which she says can cause neuropathy (to which my local doc says baloney). I emailed the SB doc to see if an appointment was necessary, she confirmed my line of thinking. and I cancelled the appointment. (SHE REPLIED TO THE MESSAGE!!) The learning there is to THINK and ASK.
9. One final realization came to me in May: people begin a physical decline in their 60s. Look at the list of things happening to my friends in first decade of the esses: cancer, diabetes, prediabetes, prolapsed body parts, prostate cancer, Parkinson’s Disease, early onset Alzheimer’s, bad knees, ruined shoulders, DeQuervain’s tenosynovitis, and yes, peripheral neuropathy. On top of that, we all have friends in their 70s, 80s, and 90s who need help but often won’t admit it. The ones that do admit it make it easier on those around them and have an easier time themselves.
In the mornings I meet my friend and her cat so we can power up a steep road in the neighborhood.
Some mornings there are turkeys yelling in the middle of the road.
None of this keeps me too busy to paint. I just wanted you to see these pictures.
There is a large project at my church right now. It has been occupying a lot of space in my mind, figuring out what to do and how to do it.
This needs plants, many many many plants. How many? I don’t know.
Fortunately, I know someone who knows. Melanie Keeley has a native plant nursery in Three Rivers and she is a genius expert botanist. (Her nursery is Alta Vista—call or email for an appointment.)
First I had to make gopher baskets. It wasn’t easy, but I had help. We only bled a little bit.
Six or seven friends met Melanie at church one morning. She chose and brought 35 plants, placed them, and instructed us in the planting requirements. Some didn’t need gopher baskets, and some that did needed a hole snipped in the center of the bottom. Weird. Maybe gophers don’t bite tap roots.
After we finished planting and hand watering, we returned in the afternoon to cover it all with mulch. There wasn’t enough, but whatever got spread was an improvement.
Then two guys set up a watering system. Seeing them (lower right side of the landscaped area) in this poorly photoshopped shot gives you an idea of the scale of the project.
In addition to working on the planting project, I repainted a cabin sign.
Then I started on a design for embroidered caps for my friend to sell at her store, Stem & Stone in Three Rivers. (The link is a Facebook page, so I can’t open it, but maybe you can.)
There are two versions here because the embroiderer charges by the stitch count, and we don’t know what the different prices might turn out to be, so we want options.
After she approved these two arrangements, I used colored pencils and Photoshop to turn these into useful designs. (The one on the left isn’t showing completely here.)
She’s not in a big rush. That’s good, because I need to design a ranch map and get some paintings finished.
Some folks in Three Rivers with a horse-breeding ranch asked me to turn their hand-scratched map into a thing of beauty. It doesn’t need to be to-scale, but all the pastures, corrals, gates, arenas, barns, ponds, and various buildings need to be in proper relation to one another.
This necessitated a walk around the place, which was very appealing in spite of the green turning to yellow.
I pulled out my inferior phone camera to gather a sense of the place and to see if inspiration and ideas would emerge.
Hmmm, this is an unusual assignment, perhaps even an odd job, for some folks who are very delightful and easy to work with. I’m thinking of drawing the map lightly in pencil, getting it okayed by the customers, then inking in the lines. After that, I might add some pencil drawings around the edges, because as you know, I love to draw. I’ll do it twice the size of 8-1/2 x 11”, and then they can print out as many maps as they need to direct customers and workers around the property.
This will be a fun job, no real rules, just freedom to turn this into whatever I want. If the customers like it, they’ll get it framed. (The walls in their house are full of art, so they might have to put it in a barn!)
On a recent weekend, I said to Trail Guy, “I MUST paint on Monday! Do not distract me, and please, please, if you see me messing around in the yard or the house, remind me that I must paint because I messed around all week, postponing painting!”
On Monday, he said, “Want to drive up South Fork? I haven’t been there in a long time and I want to see how the repairs from the ’23 flood and the fires look.”
NO! NONONO!
Then I gave it another thought and remembered that spring does not last forever. (Yes, thank you Gnat, I know it is always spring somewhere in the world, but I am only here, not anywhere else.)
So I said yes.
He said it would only be an hour; I said it would probably be three hours.
It was very green but nothing looked photo-worthy until we saw Homer’s Nose.
This is looking back at the new bridge, built in 2021.
The road ended about 1/4 to 1/2 mile below the campground. About a dozen cars were parked along the road. I wondered where all the people went, and Trail Guy wondered how they would get turned around on such a narrow road. (We turned around with about a 5-point turn.)
There were three women walking along the road, and Trail Guy stopped to talk to them. Two are sisters from LA who have owned a home near the South Fork Campground since 1974 (well, the property—I don’t know what year the house was built). They were very interesting and told us to stop by to view the lupine from their deck. They were convinced that lupine seeds were scattered during fire fighting operations, when “ping-pongs” were dropped from the air to start back-fires. (Scary!)
They had great wildflowers in their yard.
One last photo as we headed down the road. If I hadn’t felt the need to do some painting, if my camera battery hadn’t croaked, if we had brought lunch, I would have taken another 2 hours or so for photography. Doesn’t matter, it clouded up, and we headed home.
I wrote this post at the end of March and forgot to publish it. Will any of these photos translate into paintings? Maybe. No decisions yet. Just grabbing beauty when it is available.
The Lake isn’t actually in Three Rivers. The upper end is close; the dam end is closer to Lemon Cove. The lake level is even higher now, and the hills are mostly brown.
Some years there are fabulous lupine in great swaths at the water’s edge; they show in person, but not so well in these photos.
A popular turnout near the middle of The Lake (not out on the water—along the road 1/2 way between the intake and the dam) often has people pulled over taking photos. Me too. It is almost impossible to find a place to take the photo which includes Alta Peak and poppies. The poppies are excellent in the roadcuts where there is no shoulder, and the slopes are steep.
One day we were down the hill, we stopped by a friend’s orange grove and were probably 2-3 days early in terms of the blossoms being out. The oranges are fabulous. We expected to glean, but the grove hadn’t been picked yet. I gathered more photos for potential paintings.
Now get back to painting, Central California Artist!!
These are photos that could have been used in yesterday’s posts about what I learned in April. But since I am not working very much and Mineral King isn’t open yet, I saved some of them for today.
This white flower is a brodiaea that comes near the end of spring. Each one of those buds will pop open.
Lemon geranium is easy to start in pots, and I keep some ready to share on a regular basis. They came in handy when I needed a good ground cover for the vacation rental where I planted things last week.
While doing a bit of weeding at church, I realized that there were baby grasses of that roundy-moundy grass plant. I had just bought a new trowel, and this bowl was covering an irrigation timer, so I helped myself. Then I remembered to take a photo after we were on the way home from errands; hence the library book beneath the bowl.
My vacation rental manager/friend texted me from a nursery to ask if she should buy some society garlic. “Absolutely not!” said I. I have enough for a small island nation, right here in my herb garden.
She and I have landscaped an entire rental that began as squirrel holes and weeds. We did it on a shoestring, using plants that self-sow, rooting cuttings in dirt, rooting cuttings in water, and digging up plants all over my yard. It looks pretty great, albeit not formally landscaped. We definitely made some mistakes when buying plants, not understanding how large they might get. That’s okay—she now has someone who does mow/blow/go with occasional pruning, me for weeding, and the pair of us for transplanting.
When you live in a small town like Three Rivers, you get to know lots of people. This brings opportunities to try things, to experiment, to help friends out: hence, my “side-hustle” as a gardener.
Many people complain about vacation rentals, and it is true that there are too many in Three Rivers. “Too many” because normal people have been priced out of the market. Our town is hollowed out of actual residents—folks who put children in school, join clubs, attend churches, serve on local water boards, and lend you an egg or a can of tomato sauce in a pinch.
However, those vacation rentals are well-maintained, well-landscaped, pay their bills, don’t have barking dogs, and don’t park on the lawn. They also provide gainful employment for locals and people who come from down the hill to work (because they can’t afford to live here). Sigh.
The old rhyme “April showers bring May flowers” isn’t exactly true in Three Rivers. Here it is more that April showers prolong March flowers.
The turkeys are very busy right now. Too bad we don’t know where they lay their eggs; on the other hand, if you found a turkey egg, it might have a partially formed turkey inside. Guess I’ll take a pass on that situation.
These wildflowers are so predictably fabulous on the slope behind our house, and then we hire someone to weedeat them in early May. Weedeating would be a way to earn a steady income around here in the spring.
I walked across the middle fork of the Kaweah River last week. This is looking upstream (the left photo) and downstream (bet you can guess which photo) from that large bridge. It is the road that we call “North Fork”, in spite of the fact that it initially crosses the middle fork.
We walked in a new place last week. It was hot and dusty, so we didn’t go far. The green is hanging on by its fingernails.
The hill with 3 bumps is called Blossom Peak, unless you are a purist. Then you call one side “Blossom” and the other “Britten”. The details and precision of which bump represents which name eludes me.
The distant peak on the right is Case Mountain. Lots of people say they have hiked Case Mt. or sometimes they claim to have climbed it. If this is so, they went about 20 miles round trip, trespassing almost the entire way, and going through 7-9 private gates. Just want to set the record straight about that. I recently learned that a peak in that area (more like a tall steep hill) is called Holland Mountain. This is a new name for me, and I need to study a map to understand where it is. I love maps, learning new things, and knowing all I can about this county that’s been my home for 65-1/2 years.
I thought that perhaps this was a sketchy photo of the river in terms of painting, but since I had plenty of film (OF COURSE I AM KIDDING—film?? what’s film?), I took the shot anyway. All those stringy wild grape vines, the indecipherable brush. . . nope.
Thus we conclude another peek into Three Rivers in the spring. I want it to be spring forever.
In my little piece of Three Rivers, the deer don’t eat daffodils. Maybe they don’t taste as good as the native plants that are available around here in the spring. The gophers don’t bother them either. So, last December when the bulbs were on sale in Michigan (online), I bought a ton and planted them all around the yard. It was tricky business, because one is never quite certain where bulbs are already in the ground. If I was a real gardener, I’d have researched the height of each variety and somehow figured out which ones bloom first, and then paid attention to the individual packages and planted them in some sort of order.
I didn’t do any of that. I just roamed around the yard and stuffed them in the dirt willy-nilly.
Sometimes it is just more fun to be disorganized, spontaneous, and surprised.
The recent drawing workshop in Three Rivers was successful; everyone learned, and everyone had a good time, including your Central California artist, in her role as a drawing teacher.
We met at someone’s house on the river, a place full of beauty, so there are photos of things that caught my fancy along with photos from the actual drawing session.
This is a little store where the hostess and her husband sell their beautiful pottery.
Some of the pottery that did not make it intact out of the kiln is now stepping stones. Could you imagine stepping stones any more classy than this??
Ten students sat at a long table inside the house because the river made it too hard to hear outside.
I discussed drawing steps and tools, and they started on some beginning exercises to practice the techniques.
After about 15 minutes, 2 hours had passed. (That’s how one of the participants described the time.) The hostess fed us a wonderful lunch out on her deck.
Everyone began working on a drawing after lunch, and I circulated around the table, showing them how to see what is really there, rather than what they thought ought to be there. Weird, I know, but that is what drawing is, at least the way I teach it. I teach people to see, which is also weird, considering I am one of the most nearsighted people I know of.
People had such a good time that there is talk of a follow-up drawing session. Regular lessons, or another workshop? Where? When?
More will be revealed in the fullness of time. . .
