We live in the foothills at the entrance to Sequoia National Park, which we simply call “The Park”. It’s right here in Tulare County! Because we can go anytime, sometimes we don’t go for several years. Yesterday I had the opportunity to go, so I went. Let’s have some photos.
Moro Rock has steps up the other side. I didn’t go there yesterday.
Eleven Range Overlook has never photographed with my little camera. For some reason it can’t see the blues in the distance. Apparently my inferior phone camera is superior in that aspect.
Why have I never noticed this at the base of the General Sherman Tree?
Sequoia Gigantea, redwood, Big Tree
The bases of these trees resemble elephant feet.
This is all the snow there is in Crescent Meadow in JANUARY!!
The Squatter’s Cabin has this old sign explaining that it “was built in the eighties”. That’s the 1880s!
This is a baby redwood, something I’ve rarely seen. Maybe it is because of the fires in 2020, 2021, 2024. (They all run together in my memory.)
That is one weird burl.
On the way home I took this quick photo of Castle Rocks to show Intern because I spent so much time painting it carefully on the library mural.
Yeah, yeah, I’ll start working again. Eventually. Just taking a little time off.
Day Eleven was a day of doubt, feeling like a fraud, an imposter, a Jane Bag-of-Donuts masquerading as an artist. This is probably a result of attempting to paint something with an inadequate photo, on a very rough wall, in a space where I couldn’t back up quickly to observe from a distance and then go close to inspect, biting off more than I could chew, overestimating my abilities. . .
It was also a result of being into the finish work stage; Trail Guy reminded me how quickly a building gets framed, and then how long it takes to do all the finish carpentry when building something.
I started to put in Guy On A Ladder. The ladder looked wonky, and then I realized it looks wonky in the photo. The worst moment was when I realized that the oranges surrounding him were as big as his head would be, if his head was visible.
It took a minute to figure out that my photo is quite inadequate; it was fine for drawing the model for the proposal—colored pencils under a magnifying glass. Maybe I need to shrink the oranges around him.
Never mind. I painted him out and concentrated on orange blossoms, of which there are zillions. ZILLIONS. I painted for about 2 hours on these and felt as if I had moved about 6” along the wall and still had empty places.
Never mind. I decided that painting smudge pots would give a greater sense of forward motion, restore a little confidence. (The color is weirdly bright here. . . it’s a photo accident)
Never mind. I need to keep putting those endless blossoms in. (Whose idea was that??)
I wondered if it mattered when someone was standing back at a good distance. Hard to say in the bright light and shadow.
Never mind. It was time to work on something fun and satisfying.
The quality of the light sure changed quickly during that little situation.
This is how it looked at the end of the day. (It probably looks the same to you as it did at the end of Day Ten.)
A muralist friend sent me this picture, which was posted somewhere by the Exeter mural folks, yesterday, the very same day I was doubting my abilities. If I was able to do this 16 years ago, with relatively little experience, certainly I should be able to complete this little mural on the Ivanhoe library!
I left sunny Three Rivers and headed down into the fog. I remember worse fog when I lived outside of Ivanhoe with my parents, so this wasn’t too awful.
Downtown IvanhoeCan you see the mural through the fog?
The mural looked like this. I seem to forget where I left off from week to week. I’m pleased with the repaired mountains. Intern and my Number One Fan (Josie brings me treats, encouragement, and posts to some FaceBook group) both noticed the improvement.
I began with orange blossoms.
Intern began working on another layer of white over the words on the label. Since there was only one color used, instead of using a palette, I told him he could dip straight out of the jar. Might have been a mistake, but one we can recover from. When the paint dries, we will simply peel up the plastic, because mural paint is acrylic, and acrylic is plastic.
Slight spillage in the mud. I scooped up as much as possible and put it back in the jar. I wonder if this will dry in the ensuing week.
Next, he worked on the lower border of the auditorium inset.
The two orange groves in the Twin Buttes inset weren’t good enough. So, I made them better. Here are the steps:
Next, orange blossoms on the close branches on the right side.
After Intern left, I was bored* with orange blossoms so I decided to tackle the most difficult piece: the auditorium. Although I prefer drawing architecture to almost any other subject, painting from a poor photo on a rough wall while sitting in the mud presents some challenges.
Most of what remains is tight detailing. This might mean that I’ve almost run out of ways for Intern to assist. However, he will be quite helpful on the distant orange blossoms.
*Probably not actually bored, just wanting to do something with more impact so it felt as if I was making measurable progress.
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.
Ivanhoe is an unincorporated town in Tulare County. I grew up about 4 miles away, and then we moved to about 2 miles away. (Well, I probably didn’t grow up there but I lived there until I moved away at 18 and maybe I grew up then.)
The only places I was really familiar with were the school, which went from kindergarten through eighth grade, and the library.
The secondary places I knew were the drug store (a go-to place to buy birthday presents), the dime store (they had fabric!), and the hardware store, which smelled sort of like greasy metal and also was a possible source of presents because you could buy kitchen wares there. There were two hair places: a fancy one with a following from Visalia (Mr. Green owned it and his wife was a teacher’s aid whose face turned purple when she was mad), and one called Ferguson’s.
There was also a grocery store called SaveMor, a fast food place called The Triangle, and another called The Jolly cone. We didn’t go to those places, and we didn’t frequent the post office much either. Our address was actually Visalia, which made no sense, because it was about 12 miles away.
The fanciest place was the Presbyterian Church, where the cool kids went. My older sister got married there because our church in Visalia was too small. I heard Barry McGuire there in concert when I was in college. Barry McGuire in Ivanhoe— !!
There were two big packing houses for oranges: Klink, and Ivanhoe Citrus Association. I think that is right—my family packed at Klink, which was one of the early names of the town of Ivanhoe.
It had multiple active churches, a scout shack where Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Brownies, and the Lions Club met. These were active groups. There was also a locker plant (for meat); right in front of it was where someone ran into the family wagon while I was driving past one time. The driver got out and ran away, and when the sheriff arrived, they lied about who was driving. (Mr. O’Dell and I both told the sheriff, but nobody cared.)
Now Ivanhoe looks like this (all photographed through the windshield because it was cold and I wanted to get to the mural, and the town is actually a little scary these days.
Klink, now California Citrus
Looking north on “Main Street”, which only has a county road number rather than a name.
The post office is on the left.
The big brick building has a faded mural on the side. It used to be the hardware store and still says “HARDWARE” above the second story. I wonder what is up there. I think the building across the street is where Mr. Green’s fancy hair place.
Family Healthcare is in town on “main street”. I don’t remember ever having a doctor or dentist in town, so this is an improvement.
On the left is the Boys and Girls Club which used to be a church. On the right is the former drugstore. I can still remember what it smelled like. It was the nicest store in town.
Azalea Street got closed to expand the playground. In the distance is the tank that Cuko asked me about painting.
Straight ahead is the former Presbyterian Church. I don’t know what it is anymore. I think it is a church, possibly shared by one or two congregations. Turn right and the library is ahead on your left.
I didn’t take any photos of the dogs patrolling with purpose, although I counted 8. No cat photos either, as they skulk around yowling. The roosters were crowing all day long, but none of them were visible.
Thus we conclude our tour of Ivanhoe. It could cause a sentimental person to shed a tear. Ivanhoe, known for citrus, specifically excellent oranges. Hard to think of anything to say, except all the people I’ve met have been very welcoming and pleasant.
If you subscribe to my blog, you probably received an email last night about a new post. It is scheduled to publish on Friday, but I hit the wrong button. Then I immediately rescheduled it. So, you may have read Friday’salready (or you may have no idea at all what I am talking about here!)
Yesterday was a day of painting oranges. The challenge was to separate the trees from one another as they diminish toward the distance. It was a little boring to photograph each step, so let’s start with how it looked the day before yesterday.
Before
I got a little bogged down so moved to the label.
I could hear my internal coach saying, “HEY! Paint from back to front!” So I began working on the oranges on the right side. That side is noisier and colder (the wind comes around the corner) and darker with those peculiar fruitless mulberry trees that are still holding their leaves.
Thus we conclude Day Six. I won’t be back to paint until a week from tomorrow.
Sky and mountains are the farthest away, and I think they are finished. Next closest is the orange grove. Oy vey, those leaves!
Very very cold day. The garbage truck went up and down the street about 8 times. There were roosters crowing. The little pickup with the giant stereo pulled in across the street and this time he shut off the “music”. I saw the normal 2 or 3 cats, and the handful of little dogs that trot around with purpose. The county supervisor stopped by and I also talked to a group of women who were meeting in the library, a man named Ruben, and a neighbor, who reassured me that the recent murder was a family dispute and took place on the bad side of town, not where we are.
Good to know.
Today I might paint oranges on the trees. Or dirt on the ground. The ground on the painting, not the muddy ground I stand on to paint.
Intern returned, so we studied the wall together and discussed the next step. He put a base coat on Twin Buttes, and I worked on the mountains south of Alta Peak, since I got a few semi-helpful photos on Friday.
Together we mixed the color of the background of the packing label. Intern was SHOCKED that I painted the two oranges on the label before the background. Together we peeled back the masking tape, and he did a great job while I kept figuring out the mountains and a facsimile of Venice Hill. This is an odd group of hills just east of Ivanhoe, not exactly visible from town but definitely a landmark. I just made it up, because it looks different from every vantage point.
When I was satisfied with the distant mountains and fake Venice Hill, I began tinkering with the last inset, the auditorium of the Ivanhoe School back in the last century when I attended school there.
Intern was so cold that his teeth were chattering, so I told him that he had done enough for the day and sent him home. He was very helpful in many ways, and I also was able to teach him some helpful things about perspective and portraiture. Although he is a college student taking art classes, the instruction is insufficient. That’s how it was when I was in college too, and it is why I love helping people learn to draw.
The orange leaves have been troubling me. I know they will be delineated in the closer branches and trees, and be less clear when farther away. I can paint orange trees in oil and draw them in pencil, but using acrylic paint on a wall is just confounding me, handcuffing me so that I cannot figure out how to paint orange leaves. So I got a little help with them from a fellow muralist in the form of some texted photos and tried again. This time I just started with the farthest trees, hoping that I’ll figure out how to detail the closer ones.
After painting awhile, I stood back to see if the 2 halves of the mural make sense together. This caused me to jump over to the right side and rearrange the rows a bit, then begin texturing the distant trees.
After 6 hours of standing in the cold and the mud, I was ready to quit. So, I tried the combination on the trailer locks and was able to figure out how to open the thing. I carried my crates and stepladder to the opposite side of the library from the mural and put them in the ridiculously oversized trailer. Can you say “overkill”?
I have been asking for months to be given a key to the library so I can stash 2 ladders (now down to needing only one) and 3 crates of paint (now down to only 2), and to have access to water and to a facility. Instead of doing this apparently easy thing, they hauled in this giant trailer, parked it far from the mural, and I have no access to either water or a bathroom.
They’re from the government and they are here to help me.
I am able to make process in spite of this “help”.
Intern had other obligations, so I was on my own again. First things first: what is that little doghouse on a post, secured in a tire? I sent a photo to the previous librarian for the answer.
She replied thus: “It was a community event that we kept seeds and but of course it didn’t last by a week”. I concluded 2 things: 1. Even librarians don’t proofread their texts and 2. It was a failed experiment for sharing seeds (the current librarian said someone tore the door off immediate. . . sigh.) I guess that people who garden already have a network for seed sharing. I wonder how it can be used.
I unloaded the car next. After lugging the 3 crates of paints for 2 painting days, I realized that the gallon buckets aren’t necessary. I can refill the jars at home when necessary. Still have to haul water, because there is no faucet available. I do not have access to the library on the days it is closed, and the storage closet is more trouble than the trunk of my car or the back of the pickup. The county hauled a trailer to the site, supposedly for me, and my stuff will only occupy about 1/100th of the space!
It was cold, and I couldn’t figure out where to start. (What the temperature has to do with indecision is an unsolved mystery.) When I don’t know what to do, I pick something easy. Time to mix orange paint (because I work from the primaries, I mix my own colors. )
I must have taken these photos while standing around, trying to figure out where to begin.
Finally, I decided to just focus on the far left edge. Get some oranges in place, build a few leaves around them.
I walked to the edge of the library yard and picked a leaf from the neighbor’s citrus tree. This reassured me that my greens are mostly okay while slapping me with the reality that my leaves are coming up insufficient. The orange paint is transparent and will take multiple coats.
Still bumbling around, fumbling along, so I tried the smudgepots.
Never mind. Entirely the wrong size, completely unacceptable. Maybe I’ll just tackle the orange label. I know! I’ll fill in the triangle between the insets and fill in the areas of dirt that were previously taped off.
Is that sunshine?? It is!!
Maybe instead of trying to do perfect leaves on the far left which are supposed to look close, I’ll just work on the distant more vague trees.
That label was calling my name, and I didn’t want to waste the bright orange paint on the palette paint bucket lid.
Ooh, that is looking fine. Fine! Finally, something is working. (See all that mud? It ends up in the feet of the ladder and the shoes of the artist.)
The hills behind are supposed to bring to mind Venice Hill, a geographical oddity in the vicinity, and also start delineating the trees in the row on the right.
A few interesting things on Friday: I met Cuco from the public utilities/waterworks, who told me of a tank they might want a mural on; met Melé from across the street who used to draw and whose son is interested in art; someone in the neighborhood has a stereo with bass that almost shook my two fillings loose (I’ll be taking earplugs next time); a group of women crocheted together in the library in the morning; the library will soon activate a computerized machine where reserved books can be retrieved by scanning one’s library card; still no key provided for access to storage and facilities but by George, there is a locked trailed on the opposite side of the liberry, just waiting for my use (IF anyone provides the combination to the locks.
Brrr, BRRR, and BRRR! In driving the 35 miles down to the mural yesterday, I learned that the defroster in Momscar* is INSTANTLY effective, and I actually used the seat warmer, which seems like an ultra luxurious feature. Now I just need to figure out which button makes heat land on my feet.
Step by Step on Day Two
I took MomsCar so instead of just working off the tailgate of the good pick-em-up truck, I unloaded everything on the curb. (This is the curb of the driveway, not the actual road.)
Next, I had to satisfy my curiosity about that box on a pole.
No idea.
It is overwhelming to look at all that needs to be done, so I just eased into it. First, I removed the tape on the outside of the left inset.
Then I retaped it on the inside of the inset.
Because I paint from back to front and the sky is mostly finished (might add wispy clouds later), I mixed some “purple mountains majesty” color.
Starting on the left side, working my way south.
I had to keep standing back to see if it was believable. My goal was to make the mountains accurate, but I can’t seem to get a photo of how the range looks from Ivanhoe because of the overcast. My one good photo only goes from Alta Peak north. So, I just painted a first coat on the second half, getting Sawtooth in place. I will finish the mountains after I get some better photos.
Next, the upper edge of leaves. That was confusing because I am interpreting multiple photos, trying to make it believable. I alternated among 3 greens and used a tiny hint of orange. I’m not sure what the best approach is yet, but I have plenty of real estate in which to solve this problem.
I also placed a few of the closer oranges by circling the placement.
I moved to the upper right leaves, and then I was just too cold to continue. Here is the final shot of the day.
Then I filled in the channel left unpainted by the masking tape around the left inset.
The leaves didn’t look right to me, so on the way home I took a few photos.
*Mom gave me her car, and after a few months of adjusting to the fanciness of a 4-door, 6 cylinder, automatic, I still think of it as her car. Thus, the current name of Momscar.
I have some other obligations and work responsibilities so won’t be back on the wall until Friday.
Calendar available here, $25 includes postage (and I’ll eat the sales tax if you are in California.)
