Drawing a Cabin in Pencil, 2

The Minnesota customer replied quickly and thoroughly to my inquiry about the two different versions of the cabin. I couldn’t tell if there were actually two gable ends, slightly different, or if some changes had been made. She said the cabin has been a work in progress and changes get made regularly. The three rows of shingles beneath the upper gable window is the most current. She also sent this helpful set of color coded photos.

We had a rainy day, which is perfect for drawing. I went to the studio where the distractions are limited and the heater works well, and was psyched for a day of pencil, my favorite art medium, drawing a cabin, my favorite type of subject.

See the edge of my laptop? There is NO WAY I could have done this almost impossible drawing with this degree of detail without viewing the photos on my laptop. I lightened the shadows of the very dark places, enlarged the photos enormously, and even flipped the summer view of the gable end horizontally so I didn’t have to guess how all the angles would look. You can see the potential for tying one’s brain in a knot here:

This view points right.
This view points left.

I worked from top to bottom, left to right. This is the best method for a right-hander to not smear. (Left handers can work top to bottom, right to left.) Actually, smearing happens anyway, but it is less of a problem when the paper is covered in this systematic method.

And, I finished the drawing!

Come back tomorrow if you want to see it. Same Bat time, same Bat channel. (I never actually watched Batman because we only got 2 channels, not the third one that had Batman on.)

Drawing a Cabin in Pencil

Which of the three sketches of a Minnesota cabin did the two sisters choose?

They chose A! (The exclamation mark is because that was the one I was hoping for.)

I cropped all the extraneous cold stuff. The sisters asked if I could show a bit more porch, and the best I could say was, “I’ll try.” There just wasn’t much to work with.

I spent an entire hour struggling to place the cabin so that there would be room for part of the wings on either side of the gable, in order to squeeze in a hint of the porch. It took a very long time to get the angles exactly right. This sounds excessive, but architectural subjects are not forgiving, and if you don’t get the skeleton down correctly, the parts don’t fit.

Finally, I was able to begin. (The picture of the drawing below is accidentally cropped—it actually has a 1″ margin around the image on this sheet of 9×12″ archival smooth expensive paper.)

Oh no! When I look at the photo I am using, the window size in the winter photo doesn’t quite match the summer photo that shows the gable end. Further, on the summer view of the gable end, there are 3 rows of shingles beneath the upper window.

Time out. I need some instructions, please!

So, I emailed the sisters.

What happened next??

Tune in tomorrow. . .

Cabin Life, Chapter Four

Gardening

What do we do at the cabin?

Sometimes I garden.

Gardening at a mountain cabin? What are you talking about??

When I first married into the cabin, I admired some bearded iris across the creek at another cabin.

Then, I transplanted some from our real house to the cabin.

We have had one bloom; it was in July, 2017. (Only took me 15 minutes to find that date. . . the photo was so unremarkable that it got deleted awhile ago.)

A neighbor has a lush front yard, and she graciously allows me to transplant things, which sometimes survive.

A trick is to keep the transplants watered, and to mark them so that people don’t just assume it is basic forest floor, free for unstructured trampling.

We have lots of currant bushes in the area, and they get full of dead branches. My theory about this is that the bushes will thrive and grow if the old stuff is cleared away. Sometimes I wonder if, when I pull out the dead stuff, the shrub is thinking, “HEY! I was eating that!”

It is possible that I have too much thinking time.

When the fire crews were clearing brush in an arbitrary manner during the fall of 2021, they made these very neat rows of their prunings. Random hacking, organized stacking. They won’t be returning to haul these piles away, so I am now using them when I do my own clearing.

Sometimes I rake, sometimes I use the large magnet on a pole to gather nails in a nearby driveway. (That’s another story, a long one.) 

And sometimes I wander around, wishing that I knew when and how to transplant things from God’s garden.

 

 

Forrest’s Dream Cabin

My friend/customer/web designer Forrest requested a large painting of a cabin. He searched for several months, until he came up with a photo that he declared to be “IT”. Alas, he was not the photographer, and I just can’t be copying people’s work without permission. 

No no no no, I can’t copy no more, I’m scared of waking up in the courts. No thank you, please, it only makes me freeze (with fear), and then it makes it hard to face the Lord.

Forrest contacted the photographer and got permission!

So, I started. He said it would be fun to see the progress, and I decided to include you all in on the fun. I also told him to not be scared, because they all start out ugly. Forrest’s Nightmare Cabin, perhaps.

Yeppers, it is sideways. Easier to reach the top of this 20×30″ commissioned oil painting. Remember, 

I use pencil, oil paint, and murals to make art that you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

(except that the beginning stages might scare you.)

Last Pencil Commission

This is the last drawing I did with a pre-Christmas deadline. It is a Mineral King cabin, and no, I will not publish the name as this is the World Wide Web and I respect people’s privacy.

It was a joy to draw a cabin that I am familiar with, one that I was able to take all the necessary photos instead of just working with one or two provided photos that were missing a lot of detail.

See these photos? I found them all helpful and necessary. This is my favorite kind of commission, but as you have seen on my blog over the past couple of months, I say yes to many challenging custom art jobs.

I make art that you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

Redrawing an Old Cabin

I first drew this cabin back in the 1980s and might have taken a slide of the finished piece. A slide? Yes, Little Grasshopper, it was the way to get high quality photographs, back in the olden days when telephones were for making phone calls and cameras were for taking photographs. We also knew how to read cursive, paper maps, and face clocks. Sometimes we drank out of hoses in the yard, rode standing up in the back of a pickup, didn’t wear helmets while riding bicycles, and sometimes didn’t wear seatbelts either. It is a wonder you have anyone at all still alive over the age of 60 to help you understand the weirdness of the olden days. But that isn’t why we are talking about drawing today.

It began with 2 sketches. Mr. Customer chose the horizontal version. I began in my usual manner of lightly laying out where all the parts will go, and then started shading in the upper left corner.

Day #2 of shading brought me this far. I haven’t kept track of my hours – that is a pointless exercise since I charge by the size of the drawing. (Reminds me of what our guide in Israel used to say every time someone would ask him how long something would take – he’d say, “‘How Long’ sounds like a Chinese name.”)

This is the smallest size I draw now – it is 9×12″ and costs $200. (“How much?” is an easier question to answer.)

In case you are curious about pencils, my current favorite brand is Tombow, a Japanese word for “dragonfly”. They are smooth smooth smooth. 

Drawing cabins using pencil is a return to my “happy place”, “comfort zone”, and “wheel house” to use all the current cliches. If I find the slide of the old drawing, I probably won’t show you because translating a slide into something digital is not in my wheel house or comfort zone, and never you mind about a happy place either.

Cabin Thoughts, Part 3

Mineral King cabin folks come from cities, suburbs, small towns and out in the country; we live in mansions, estates, apartments, and even a few normal houses. We are artists, bankers, equipment operators, janitors, teachers, farmers, administrative assistants, engineers, retirees, dental hygienists, sheriffs, lawyers, doctors, day care workers, musicians, optometrists, veterinary assistants, physical therapists, moms, Park employees, physician’s assistants, and those are just the first ones that come to mind. We come from California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Utah, Virginia, New York, Hawaii, Florida, South Dakota, and Egypt. (Probably more places that I can’t remember. . .)

Our Mineral King cabins, AKA “small, poorly constructed huts in the woods”, are great equalizers.

Every one of us, regardless of our backgrounds, livelihoods, economic, educational or political status, is thrilled to have a small, poorly constructed hut in the woods. Every cabin has a barely adequate kitchen, a laughably tiny (or no) bathroom, maybe one or two or even no bedrooms. Every single cabin user has to figure out how to deal with unreliable water, peculiar propane appliances, old stuff that may or may not work, and the definite lack of a maintenance department, hardware or grocery store. There is a terrible road to get there, rodents, spiders and other wildlife that may or may not be appreciated, and all sorts of unexpected situations. (Who left this chair and what happened to my flashlight?? Who forgot the tonic water? Does anyone have any birthday candles? What do you mean Skin-So-Soft isn’t mosquito repellent? Are you kidding that I can’t blow-dry my hair?)

Every single cabin that is owned by multiple families has its conflicts, whether decorating, cleaning, maintaining, or scheduling. The cabins without partnerships have to bear the expenses, decisions, maintenance and cleaning without benefit of sharing the load.

Those who have complicated lives in fancy places might view a cabin as a mixed blessing: a family tradition, a repository of memories, and a bit of an inconvenience, but a treasured shabby shack in the mountains.

Those who have simpler lives in simpler places might also view a cabin as a mixed blessing: a family tradition, a repository of memories, and a huge treat, a treasured place of one’s own in the mountains.

In my 32 years of cabin ownership, I’ve observed cabin folks’ conversation topics go from “How can we save these cabins” to “How have you been?” We have fought together, helped one another, hiked together, learned one another’s family trees, and through it all we have built friendships weekend upon weekend, year after year after decade after decade. And I am just a newcomer. . .

A small, poorly-constructed, primitive, one-story hut in the woods where everyday life is distant and we gather to laugh with family and play board games while a fire keeps us warm. (If you have a giant log mansion on a lake somewhere, then you will have to edit this description to fit your idea of what constitutes “cabin”.)

Cabin Thoughts

A classic Mineral King cabin. (sold oil painting)

In 1986 I married into a Mineral King cabin. I’d always wanted either a cabin or a beach house. Here in Tulare County, cabins are more available and accessible than beach houses. It has worked out well, even to the point that my art business is called Cabin Art. (Or Cabinart. . . for a Typo-Psycho, I am awfully ambivalent about the spelling of this invented word.)

But what exactly is a cabin? A dear old friend and I began discussing this, and I was surprised that I am unable to define the word. Some cabin neighbors along with Off Trail Guy and I had a discussion about the definition of “cabin”, and the word “woods” came up several times in both discussions.

My hiking buddy suggested I try Webster. I was so caught off guard that I said something truly clueless:  “What is that? Some internet thing?” We all got a big laugh when I realized she meant Noah Webster and the Merriam-Webster dictionary, not some World Wide Web gizmo.

We had an old dictionary at the cabin, so I looked up “cabin”. The 3rd definition said, “A small, rude hut”.

Clearly the word “rude” has changed in meaning since the dictionary was published in 1935. I looked up “rude” and saw “Poorly constructed”.

Alrighty, then. A cabin is a small, poorly constructed hut.

My Very Wise Dad always told us it is better to laugh than to cry. I might even fall down laughing at this definition, especially when folks mention their Shaver Lake or Tahoe cabins.

Let’s talk more about this tomorrow.

How do you define “cabin”? (Don’t spoil things by looking it up first – just speak from your gut or your heart.)

Cabin Commission Completed

That would be “commissioned pencil drawing of a Wilsonia cabin completed”, but that title was stupid-long.

This drawing is 12×16″, and chock full of details. (What does “chock full” mean??)

It has been a couple of weeks since you saw the progression, so let’s review.

First, the sketches so the customer could choose the angle. Then, some revisions, which don’t appear in these sketches.

2 other sketches

Next, I began the drawing, working from top to bottom and left to right. That is because I am right-handed, and don’t want to drag my hand across the piece as I’m working it. If I have to revisit an area on the left, I rest my hand on a piece of paper to protect the other parts from smearing.

cabin drawing

The customers wanted their water wheel added, which didn’t show in the sketch. It was tiny, but it is there!

pencil drawing of cabin

I spent a week on this, refining, darkening, figuring out what was in the shadows, sharpening up edges so the cabin would pop out from the background, experimenting with ways to make the forest look better than just scribbles. You’d think I’d have that figured out after drawing the entire book The Cabins of Wilsonia, but it never comes easy.

And at the end of a  week of very concentrated drawing, here is the final result.

Jungwirth

The customers were very happy, and that is always my goal, so I am very happy too.

Happy, happy, happy.

Cabin Commission Continued

Thank you, Veterans. You probably didn’t want to go, probably didn’t like being there, maybe questioned why, but you did it so we didn’t have to. Thank you! (including, especially, Cousin Bruce)

I would have said “Wilsonia Cabin Commission”, but I liked 3 Cs in a row in the title.

pencil drawing of cabin

When you compare this to yesterday’s work, you can see that it is inching forward to the right. You can also see that some of the shadows have been darkened. If you are really focused, you might detect that some of the edges are sharper and see that there is more detail on individual rocks and more pencil on the ground.

The right edge of this image is dark and fuzzy because this drawing is 12×16 and doesn’t fit very well on the scanner. Inquiring minds need to know these things.