Library Mural, Day Thirteen, FINISHED!

The mural looked like this when I arrived in Ivanhoe (photo from the end of the previous painting day—I arrived early enough that the light wasn’t yet on the mural.)

After talking to an old friend who remembered more details than I, I added a hint of a door on the porch of the old auditorium. (Please excuse the poor quality of the After photo!)

Then I added orange blossoms. These are only important if you are up close and inspecting the mural; they are irrelevant if you are riding a fast horse.

Next, I flailed around for a while, trying to figure out where to work next. The idea that I might finish had me a little wound up, wondering if it was possible, wondering how to prioritize. The rooster rose to the top of the list—all those colors!

Here are the feet, before and after.

Next, I sat on the ground, now redwood chips rather than mud, and began the quail.

I stood back, studied the mural while visiting with my cousin on the phone, and decided that the blue sky in the Twin Buttes inset was too blue, too flat, too perfect.

Okay, now let’s look at the whole thing. This was a quick-quick-quick-before-the-tree-shades-it shot.

Some more staring and thinking brought me to the conclusion that despite simplifying the packing label, I needed to not abbreviate Klink to Klink Citrus; the name was Klink Citrus Association. And since I couldn’t figure out how to legibly paint “Tulare County, California” on the wall’s rough surface, I simply added “Ivanhoe.”

Throughout the day, I touched up a few more things, brightening the arms of the wind machine, tightening up the edges of the smudge pots, closing up gaps around some of the insets, putter, putter, tinker, tinker.

Enough, already! I signed it. Even with the guidelines of the bricks, my name went crooked. YOU TRY WRITING YOUR NAME WITH A PAINTBRUSH WHILE LYING ON THE GROUND!

Okay, one more photo before it was completely finished but also before the shadows hit it.

One last look.

I loved working on this mural—the commute, the ease of not working on ladders, the subject matter, the neighborhood, being at the library of my youth, meeting the various people who stopped by, the roosters, the patrolling dogs and yowling cats, all of it.

THANK YOU, IVANHOE!

P.S. An inside mural begins today, Lord willing, etc. . . if I do begin, it will be on the blog on Wednesday. Tomorrow is a little history tidbit about the mural.

Library Mural, Day Twelve

Last week I did not work on the mural for reasons that are irrelevant to my public life, as shared here with my tens of readers. The week before last, actually, since I show you on Mondays what I did on Fridays. Never mind.

This is how it looked last; it’s kind of hard to see things accurately in the late afternoon sun and shadow.

When I got to the library on Friday, it looked like this:

Wait, what is missing?? The mulberry trees were pruned, and THE REDWOOD LOG IS GONE, ALONG WITH THE STUMP! Whoops. That was a monument. Sure made nice chips on the ground and So Much Easier to see and work on the mural!!

There is a saying out there that when you have a difficult job facing you, i.e.,“a frog”, you should “eat the frog first”. So, I did: Ladder Man.

After I painted Ladder Man (this was the 2nd or 3rd attempt), Intern correctly and objectively pointed out that he was too small. (Thank goodness for Intern.) So, I kept Ladder Man the same size but moved him farther away in the orchard, conveniently placed behind the Twin Buttes inset so that the wonky ladder wasn’t visible.

Intern worked on orange blossoms for 3+ hours. (Thank goodness for Intern.) Then I dripped some paint on the bright orange on the label, tried to wipe it off, and then Intern turned it into a star, to be fixed later. I hope we remember all the Fix-it-Laters. . .

While Intern worked on the zillions of tiny white dots masquerading as distant orange blossoms, along with gray-ish green dots in the shadows, I tackled the next frog on the menu—painting the old Ivanhoe School Auditorium on that very rough wall surface, minus a T-square and a triangle, which I would be using if I was drawing it in pencil, or perhaps even when painting if the wall had been plastered.

I worked from left to right, across the inset, just as I would do if drawing in pencil. Yes, I was drawing with my paintbrush!

Time to stand back and admire all the progress, with the sunshine and clear treeless and logless view.

Then I decided to label the Auditorium inset, because no one will know what it is unless I tell them.

That was such a success (with space remaining to put in the year it was built and the year it was torn down if I am able to learn that information) that I decided to help people know what Twin Buttes are. That helped fill the too-big real estate of the road.

I sat down in the redwood wood chips which replaced the mud, and began fixing the label. You can see how the daylight changed during that interval to the late afternoon sunshine which casts a golden glow.

Please admire the detailed orange blossoms and navel on the label’s orange:

Further, note the claws on the rooster along with a hint of a shadow. This appeared on the actual label when I held it in the formerly unavailable bright sunshine.

Throughout the process of painting this mural, I continually use the measurement of “best viewed from the back of a fast horse”. After detailing the auditorium, Intern said it was “getting to be slow horse quality.”

I wonder if I’ll be able to finish it next Friday. Prolly not, when I consider how many orange blossoms remain, along with an uncontrollable desire to make the oranges brighter throughout. I also want to add a few more details, because those are the types of things that keep people looking closely.

To top off the great day of painting, there were PEOPLE IN THE LIBRARY!! Is this because the mural is drawing attention to this great free resource in this poor, tiny town of few benefits other than mountain views and the smell of orange blossoms each spring?

A Day in Sequoia National Park

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.

Library Mural, Day Eleven

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!

Library Mural, Day Ten

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 Ivanhoe
Can 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.

Library Mural, Day Eight

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

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.

Library Mural, Day Six

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’s already (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.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Five

From solid blue sky to wispy clouds.

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.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Four

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”.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.