A Busy Weekend

Redbud in 2019

Last weekend began with setting up the for the Redbud Festival on Friday, taking photographs of how everything fit together, then packing all the merchandise into boxes and moving it inside the Memorial Building for the night.

On Saturday morning, I went to a memorial service for the father of a dear friend. It was a bit of a reunion, but instead of hanging around with old pals, I jetted off to Arts Visalia to teach a drawing workshop.

I was sort of hoping that no one would sign up so that I could just hang around with my old buddies, but a few days before, 4 people signed up. When I arrived at the gallery, I learned there were 6 participants. Then I learned that the drawing pencils were no longer in the closet in the workshop room. Well, oops.

So, the gallery director got a short list together, disappeared for about 45 minutes, and reappeared with some drawing pencils. We made do with the other supplies I had brought along, and the class of 6 was a compatible, enjoyable, personable group who did very well!

Redbud, indoor booth in 2017

Meanwhile, some friends were working our shared booth at the Redbud Festival. The show organizer called me at the end of the drawing workshop to ask if I was okay with leaving all my merchandise outside overnight underneath the patio overhang where we were situated. I thought that the overnight security sounded secure, so I agreed. That way my friends wouldn’t have to take it down, pack it up and schlep it all inside, nor would I need to reverse the process on Sunday morning.

This is how it looked before the beautiful slab furniture, felted purses, knitted hats, and tie-dyed baby clothes were added. The tables looked great sitting beneath the paintings, and the colorful fabric items were on a table to the left.

Redbud Festival hasn’t happened for 2 years, and this year it was organized at the last minute. We no longer have a newspaper in town, and there are so many methods of communication that it is a wonder anyone can learn anything at all. As a result, there weren’t many vendors, and not many visitors, but this allows for longer conversations with the visitors and opportunities to get to know the other vendors a bit more than usual.

I walked to the Memorial Building on Sunday morning and learned that sales were steady on Saturday. Sales were slower on Sunday, but also steady. The number of packages of cards that sold was astonishing, particularly since they are now $10 a package. I joked that next year I will just rent one square foot and bring my card spinner. Yes, paintings sold, but they require the screens, which makes the set-up and break-down quite time-consuming, and I get a little bit older every year. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.)

Breaking down the show was the easiest it has ever been. Because we were on the patio, I simply lifted everything up to the driveway, with the Botmobile very close at hand and Trail Guy there to use his master packing skills.

The screens almost blew over on Saturday. Someone had some rope and tied the whole apparatus to the vertical pole. 

Now, I need to get some new paintings done to sell at Silver City Resort. Chopchop!

She Loves Flowers, Chapter Two

After obsessing over the wildflowers on the hillside behind my house, I headed to the painting workshop to paint some of my own wildflowers.

But wait! There are other flowers in bloom in the yard, and they also deserve attention. I picked some Lemon Geranium to put in a vase near my work station, because it keeps mosquitos away. (in theory)

Wait! I can’t work on that piece today. It doesn’t have the tight deadline that the Redbud Festival is pressurizing me with. IT IS TOMORROW, 10-5 at the Three Rivers Memorial Building and SUNDAY, 10-4.

Get to work, Central California artist! Chopchop.

I love this view of Franklin Creek, at the upper crossing, below the dam.

Mineral King Wildflowers, 6×18″, oil on wrapped canvas, $165 (plus that pesky California sales tax).

Then I finished this 6×6″ poppy. 

I have more finished little paintings for the Redbud Festival but you might have to go to the show to see them.

Maybe I’ll show you those other flowers in the yard on Monday’s post. Or maybe I will tell you that I sold everything at the Redbud Festival. Or maybe nothing will have sold and I will invite you to a bonfire.

JUST KIDDING!

She Loves Flowers, Chapter One

“She” means me. Loving flowers is a cliché, and as someone who normally marches to the beat of a different drummer, it is a little embarrassing to admit how much I love flowers. After all, who DOESN’T??

Oh well. I am 62 years old, and I can say and do (almost) whatever I want. Of course there are consequences to one’s choices, but I don’t see any downside to admitting that I love flowers.

One morning, the local crew of superior weed-eaters showed up at 7. In my opinion, they could have waited a week. However, these guys are popular, and we wanted to get on their list sooner rather than later. And if they come early in the day on a day that isn’t hot, there is less fire danger.

BUT THE HILLSIDE STILL HAD FLOWERS!

So, I was out there at 6:30, doing something I NEVER do: picking wildflowers. The Fairy Lanterns were so good this year. What if we weed-eated (weed-ate?) too soon and there won’t be enough seeds to bloom next year??

At least I have my photos.

Maybe they’ll last longer on the front porch.

How about from the other angle?

Or some close-ups:

Okay, how about seeing them straight-on:

Let’s observe a moment of silence for the end of spring, the demise of the the wildflowers behind my house and everywhere. . .

. . . sigh.

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.

Blogiversary Bonus

What is a blog? It is a web log, an online journal, shortened to blog. 

What is a blogiversary? It is blog anniversary.

Yesterday was my 12th blogiversary. That is 12 years of posting 5 days a week about the business of art, life in Three Rivers/rural Tulare County, peculiar sights, a (rare) visit to another place, things I learn, and always, Mineral King. That is approximately 3,350 posts.

Today I am just giving you some photographs of beautiful things in my little world. It has nothing to do with the business of art, other than an awareness of beauty which I believe is the basis of good art (“good” as I define the word).

 

Thank you for hanging with me through the years, or thank you for joining up somewhere along the way.

A Spring Walk in Three Rivers

By my own distinction between hike and walk, this was actually a short hike, because we took packs with food and water. It was bee-yoo-tee-ful—green, wildflowers, blue sky with puffy white clouds, and it wasn’t hot yet.

Goldfields are on the left; bird’s eye gilia on the right.

Popcorn flowers

This one is a brodiaea called “Pretty Face”, or “Golden brodiaea”.

I didn’t take a lot of photos, in spite of the good variety of wildflowers. It was good to simply be there. I wasn’t even tempted to put together a new book of foothill wildflowers—completely off-work, completely in the moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paint While the Poppies are Hot

Poppies aren’t literally hot; this is my version of “Strike while the iron is hot”. What does that actually mean? I think it has something to do with blacksmithery—taking action in a timely manner.

These four oil paintings of California poppies sold immediately.

The poppies are out in abundance, and interest in them is high. Gotta paint poppies now! These will have to be done quickly and possibly delivered while still slightly wet if I am to tap into the season of interest. Let’s get those canvases ready NOW.

 

These two (6×6″ and 4×6″) are now available at Kaweah Arts in Three Rivers (unless they sold over the weekend).

This 8×8″ needs some more touching up and a signature.

Chop-chop, Central California artist!

And here is a thought: I do not remember poppies in abundance like this when I was kid. Is it because: a. they just didn’t bloom this way; b. my family wasn’t “into” poppies and wildflowers; c. I was oblivious? 

Probably c.

 

Poppy Peeping

The poppies and other wildflowers were at at their peak on March 11. Three friends and I took the afternoon off to go fill our eyes.

First, we had to empty our wallets to fill the gas tank. Welcome to Three Rivers.

Then we headed down around the lake, and up Dry Creek Road, all within eastern Tulare County.

This last photo shows Terminus Dam in the distance, which creates Kaweah Lake. The flowers weren’t fabulous right there at the Dry Creek Preserve, but it was clear and green, which is pretty fabulous on its own. 

We never did get out amidst the flowers but stayed on the shoulder of the road, and actually did no trespassing whatsoever.

I must be finally growing up.

March in Three Rivers

When we get some rain in February or early March, it is so beautiful in Three Rivers that it almost causes physical pain to leave. The brilliant spring days are just a tiny blip on the year long calendar, dominated by heat, drought, and brown. 

The flowering pear tree in front of my studio is pretty 2 times a year. It is a leaning tree, and I wonder if that was caused by 13 years of Perkins scratching his claws while pushing on one side of the tree.

Look at these blooms up close.

Stand beneath the blossoms, get little white petals in your hair, and admire the “lawn”, which isn’t irrigated or green any other time of the year.

What else are we seeing? Flowering quince in the yard, and poppies across the canyon.

Yeppers, poppies!

I love March in Three Rivers.

P.S. Adventures in Boy Scouting

The book “blurb” (certainly there must be a better word for this) is the brief summary on the back of a book. Here is what is on the back of Adventures in Boy Scouting: Tales Told by the Old Scoutmaster.

It’s the third weekend of the month. Where did everyone go?

Start reading and find out. Maybe Boy Scout Troop 323 is kayaking of Point Lobos, scuba diving off Big Sur, camping on Case Mountain, or maybe even at Kirks Creek searching for their inner selves in the “seven pools of enlightenment”. You know wherever these intrepid scouts are, another adventure is sure to follow. 

What is so glorious about sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag during a thunderstorm or a blizzard? You’d have to be there to know, or you can skip the discomfort and read this book to bring the adventure to life.

Do you know this old scoutmaster and newly published author? If you see him, congratulate him, hand him $25, and be the happy owner of the fun new book, Adventures in Boy Scouting: Tales Told by the Old Scoutmaster. 

P.S. Max the dog will be in the back seat of his pickup, along with Jasmine and Violet.