Yes, some repetition here. This little segment of the yard is stunning, and I try to look at it different times of the day, every single day.
Enjoying our seasonal “lawn”, which is mowed weeds, irrigated by rain.
Lilac!
P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, K.C.!
Let’s just enjoy some photos. Or how about you enjoy them while I recover from the book project, Springville’s Hospital.
And then, I headed to church to work on Phase II of the landscaping project begun a couple of years ago.
Was it mid-day? or mid-morning? Dunno. Nobody cares. Let’s have some photos.
Oops, these are from the early morning walk.
Look how much the tulip opened in the 1/2 hour we were on the walk!
This is Ray Hartman ceanothus, maybe the best one I’ve seen. There are several in the neighborhood.
I like this mural, but the Ivanhoe library mural remains my favorite.
Comb Rocks in the distance.
I shook this blooming tree branch to see if my inferior phone camera could catch the pollen blowing around. This is a Chinese pistache tree, the kind that self-sows and looks brilliant in the fall.
The rest of these photos were at home. It was so beautiful out that I lollygagged around, taking photos, procrastinating about diving into that indoor editing job.
My life is mellow, everything near home, just the way I like it. Except for that nagging book deadline. Self-imposed, but still urgent. Back to work!
UPDATE: The book is now finished. . . I wrote today’s post a week ago.
Before the sun hit the ridge across the canyon.
Same flowers, after the sun hit the hills across the canyon.
Comb Rocks.
Now, back to book editing, photo editing, photo captioning and placing, and book formatting.
Walking Partner and I noticed something different a week or two ago here in Three Rivers: new speed limit signs on a private road.
This is one post. 15 mph heading upstream, 5 mph heading downstream. (This is along the river—could you guess that?)
Here’s another one: This time it was 15 mph going downstream and 5 mph going upstream.
And here is another on the same road: 5 mph both upstream and downstream, but this time there is an explanation for those heading up. “Slow blind curve ahead” could apply to the bulk of the road.
And at this intersection, it is 15 mph regardless of the direction you head.
Never mind. Let’s look at some wildflowers along the walk.
This is the kind of sign I’m used to. Custom. Interesting enough to perhaps cause someone to notice.
Walking Partner and I walk about 3.5 mph, in case you were wondering. We used to walk 4 mph, but we’ve never been this old before.
On a fabulously springlike day in February, Trail Guy tempted me away from painting: easy to do when there are wildflowers and it isn’t hot and I don’t have a tight deadline.
First, I noticed all the chemtrails. Yeah, yeah, I know, “contrails”, but I still think there are way more than we have passenger jets above. The general direction is usually south to north, or west to east. I believe something secretive and possibly nefarious is taking place. Yes, I am susceptible to conspiracy theories; often the distance between one of those theories and reality is about 6 months.
We drove down toward Kaweah Lake, parked at the upper end of the Slick Rock area and then meandered upstream along the river, with a wee bit of accidental trespassing behind the Lazy J Motel.
A great redbud in the parking lot!
We headed toward the river, went across someone’s former foundation and down these steps to the river trail.
In putting this post together, I remembered WAIT (Why Am I Talking?) and decided that the photos can do the talking today.
I also decided to start looking for a new camera.
This pencil drawing was done from several photos taken in the campground Sequoia RV Ranch up North Fork Drive in Three Rivers. Like the other drawings used in the 2026 calendar, the original is on a piece of 11×14” archival paper. It is for sale. $375 (plus tax if you live in California) or make me an offer, because sometimes I get tired of being businesslike and think the drawings are better on someone’s wall than in my flat files.
Same sizes and prices for the January drawing, and February drawing.
I painted this scene a few times too, but they sold a long time ago.
I am willing to paint it again, because I accept commissions. (Tryna be businesslike here)
These three topics are rattling around in my skull.
It rained and hailed rather ferociously while I was painting that indoor oak tree at my church; two days later I took this photo. Check out the first daffodils in bloom, in spite of the recent heavy cold storm.
The elephant was buried in snow. “Elephant?” That’s the shape that appears on Alta Peak after a snowstorm.
Stem & Stone* asked if I had any poppy and lupine paintings hanging around for sale. Nope. We discussed sizes and prices, with Stem & Stone suggesting something similar to the popular size 6×18” sequoia paintings. I countered with the fact that sequoia trees are more popular than poppies, thinking that $195 might seem steep for someone here visiting for the purpose of seeing sequoia trees. Stem & Stone suggested a smaller size but the same proportions. I found 2 small canvases in my supplies that fit the bill, both 3×9”. This gave me pause, but I agreed to try.
The cause for my pause is that very small paintings require holding it in my hand while painting and require tighter control, taking a disproportionate amount of time to paint. If I price by size, which is how the buying public makes sense of pricing, after Stem & Stone takes its agreed upon and fair bite out of the price, I am essentially working for less than minimum wage.
I speculated that is the reason many artists choose to paint loose and fast. I could try that method, but then the people who know my work would wonder if I’d been dropped on my head, had tried to paint left-handed, or lost my reading glasses.
Sigh. Sometimes it is really hard to be a professional artist.
HOWEVER, I did a rough sketch for Stem & Stone to see if it fit the vision.
*Stem & Stone is owned by a dear friend whose retail judgement I trust completely.
I shoved the couch to the right, covered it with the tarp, and tackled the remaining branches.
I forgot to take photos for a few hours, after shoving the couch back to the far left side. The next goal was to show depth where the new branches overlapped. This keeps the tree from looking like a cardboard cutout or flat paint. I want it to look as if it could lift off the wall (aiming high. . . )
A tree guy stopped by to look at it and give me his opinion (I asked him) —balanced, realistic, believable? After receiving the Gene Castro Seal of Approval, I moved ahead with confidence, tapping on some leaves.
When I was finished (because I was hungry again—could bring lunch, but I don’t want to spend time there not painting!) it looked like this.
One day is all that is necessary to complete the leaves and a few additional details. This has been an easy job in terms of commute (2 miles) and accessibility (indoors, 2 ladders but no extension ladder). Plus, I am at my church*, with lots of people coming and going, a very social and productive place.
As I work on the tree, it feels as if I am making no progress. I finally figured out why: it is because I am painting the same stuff over and over and over. Branch, twig, twig, twig, branch, twig, twig, twig, twig…
It also looks insignificant when seen with the entire wall, so the photos from Wednesday’s painting session are mostly focusing on the tree.
This is my view from the ladder.
I climb down the ladder, stand and stare, decide what needs to be thickened, tapered off, added, filled in. . . Then I climb up the ladder and try to recognize the spots that I decided to fix. Then when I can’t recognize them because it is too close and looks different, I climb back down the ladder to try again to memorize the particular spots, then climb back up the ladder to make the additions and changes, before I see something different to add, which would cause me to lose my place again.
When it got too confusing, I got my darker and lighter browns out so that I could create a bit of bark and a sense of branches overlapping.
After about 5-1/2 hours of this, I was hungry, cold, and confused. Hungry because breakfast was a long time ago, cold because I chose to not use the heater, and confused because it all looks alike. Fret not, I did take a couple of breaks because there were other people working at church on Wednesday. I warmed up in the office, got sidetracked with some sorting and tossing with the secretary, learned some fun things about the pastor, tried some fancy coffee with the janitress. (Woman janitor=janitress?)
I haven’t decided how far to the left to grow the branches, so I put the furniture back in place to see how it all looks together, hoping the answer will present itself on the next day of painting.
Pay no attention to the ladders in the corner or the inverted table on the rug. It’s there to flatten out the folds. When we began discussing how to make the room more inviting, my cohort mentioned that she just got new living room furniture and then I got all excited to grow an indoor tree. Thus, this project was born.
So, more branches and twigs, a decision about the length, more texture, some fuzzy green leaves the way they are looking in reality, outside, right now in Three Rivers, because this will be a one-season tree. I can’t make February last forever in real life, but I can do it on the wall.
P.S. Nope, not painting the underside of the soffit; I am NOT Michelangelo.