These “Sold” posts are mostly to reassure myself that I’m not just drawing and painting for the fun of it. They serve a secondary purpose in reminding my tens of readers that I accept commissions (lest you think I am a prima donna who only creates what I “feel like” creating) and that I do sell my work (lest you think I just prefer to cover my walls with my own art.)
I distorted the proportions of West Florence and Vandever in this painting. I hope someone from far away bought it so that they don’t notice my “artistic license”.
Most of these sold at the Silver City Store, four miles below Mineral King. The sequoia paintings mostly sold at both of the stores which sell for me in Three Rivers (Kaweah Arts and Stem & Stone). One sequoia painting was a commissioned piece for a long time friend and customer, and another was to some new friends/customers.
If it weren’t for all those folks passing through town on their way to Sequoia National Park, I’d be sure that only my friends and relatives buy from me. It is thrilling when a stranger likes my art enough to part with their hard-earned pieces of green paper with dead presidents’ faces on them.
Tomorrow I’ll show you all the pencil drawings that sold. You’ve seen most of them already, so it will be reruns for you.
The plan was to finish the 10×30” commissioned oil painting of the two redwood trees. When I set up in the painting workshop, it looked too hard and too big and too daunting. So I indulged in some productive procrastination, opting instead to finish the plein air painting of the pumpkin field.
This meant that I added a few blossoms, detailed some foreground leaves, and signed the painting. Since it is too wet to scan, here is the photograph, which include shiny spots.
No, no, no, REALLY, it looks so much better in person! And it might be a bad idea to title it “Pumpkin Patch” since no pumpkins are visible. Besides, Mrs. Texas and I thought it was a field of summer squash for a few months.
Never mind. Let’s return to our twin redwoods, Sequoia Sisters, Sequoia Siblings, Aunt Tillie & Uncle Pete, Two Sisters. The last title is the real one, because my boss chose it. Who is my boss? Mrs. Customer, of course!
The upper mid section of greenery and trunk was lacking in detail. Mrs. Customer also requested to see some flowing water into the trough, along with a few wildflowers.
The water really flummoxed me because it flows in a little ravine, not right at the surface where it is visible. So, on the way up the hill recently, the idea of a waterfall came to me. On the way down the hill, we did a drive-by shooting of the waterfall. I’ve circled it and messed with the contrast so you can get an idea of what I am working with.
First, I had to paint out the fake-looking stream that I put down in order to force myself to address the issue. Buh-bye, little fake stream. You can see that there are boulders indicating a stream flowing into the trough. However, there isn’t room for a believable waterfall.
Oops, too small to see. Here is a close-up of the bottom left corner.
Allrighty then, let the water fall, and let the lupine bloom!
Will Mrs. Customer approve? (I signed it anyway. . . always hoping for the best.)
Why two photos of the (hopefully) finished commissioned oil painting? Because I photographed one with my inferior phone camera and one with my little Canon Elph, which probably is also inferior compared to most people’s phones. This will be an enormous challenge to photograph. When it is dry, I’ll tackle that aspect of the job. Or, more accurately, after Mrs. Customer is pleased and it is dry, then I will take on that challenge.
P.S. I like this painting a lot. Thank you, Mrs. Customer for commissioning a subject that I’ve never done for some odd reason!
With two Giant Sequoias to paint, I chose to finish, nay, ALMOST finish the painting I started in Gilroy. Why not the Sequoia paintings first? Because I missed Mrs. Texas after spending so much time together.
I think it might need a blossom or two and better definition on the closer leaves.
Because I was painting two at the same time of the same scene, and they are the same proportions, I can’t tell which photos are which paintings. So, no in-progress shots today, just a beginning and an end of the day photo of each.
The small one (6×18”)
The 10×30” painting.
This one is too tall to reach the top when it is sitting on the table-top easel, so I worked on the lower part first, then flipped it upside down to work on the top. The middle section isn’t finished.
The painting isn’t finished. I sent a photo to the customer so she can tell me if I need to add, change, or delete anything.
I am just a hired brush, using oil paints to make art that my customers can understand of places they love for prices that won’t scare them.
Sequoias, Redwoods, Big Trees, Sequoia gigantea—all these words mean the trees which gave Sequoia National Park its name. Paintings of these trees sell very steadily to the visitors in our area. Sometimes it feels a little boring to keep painting the same things over and over.
When that feeling comes upon me, I think of three things: 1. I’d rather paint another sequoia tree than be a waitress; 2. Here is a chance to test and hopefully improve my skills as a painter; 3. Here is a chance to force myself to do something I don’t want to do and build more character. (COME ON, I’M ALMOST 66, CAN’T I BE DONE WITH CHARACTER YET??)
It is time for another 6×18″ painting of a Sequoia gigantea. That’s kind of a yawn for me.
It is also time for a 10×30” of a pair of redwood trees, known as Redwood Canyon, Two Sisters, and Aunt Tillie & Uncle Pete. (I’m quoting some former cabin neighbors who actually said this is how they refer to the pair of redwoods about 8 miles below Mineral King.) This one is a good challenge—big enough to really get in the detail that floats my boat, and figuring out how to put in the parts that are important to the customer while making it look believable in spite of the fact that I have to do a bit of squishing and fabricating. (Yeah, yeah, I know— “artistic license”.)
Shut up, Central California Artist, and show us some pictures!
Because the same colors are in both paintings (duh), it was easy to put them on side-by-side easels and slam out the first messy layer. Sometimes this is fun; sometimes it is just an obstacle until I get to do the details. Doesn’t matter—see reason #3 above. (Actually, it was the 2nd messy layer, the first one being a thin coating of unrecognizability.)
Yeppers, upside down. Otherwise it was too hard to reach the sky on the 30” canvas while it sat on the table.
The sketch is what I showed to the 10×30 customer. It is efficient to practice the same scene smaller in case I need to work out some design bugs. One will go to a longtime friend (the 10×30) and the other to a stranger just passing through town. (Who knows? maybe the stranger will someday become a friend too.)
Don’t be scared. I can make them both look good.
After the paintings got this far, I left them in the workshop to dry while I returned to the studio to work on the second pencil commission.
To postpone two difficult tasks, I started this 10×30” commissioned oil painting, following the sketch which the customer approved.
Just Plain Work
This part didn’t warrant any photos. Some friends from Southern California went to my show, bought a drawing, and then hit a snag and couldn’t return to pick it up. I took it home to package it for shipping, started to clean the glass, and I pushed the glass through the frame. WHAT?? It had to be taken apart and resecured. However, AFTER I had the back resealed up, I saw that the two mats were not aligned. WHAT?? I took it apart again, got everything in position, flipped it over, and saw that there was a tiny little chud (technical term I learned during a brief stint in college working at a frame shop for miscellaneous crud, which shows up usually after a picture has been framed). I took it apart again, cleaned it again, secured and sealed it again, and then had to protect it for shipping. Two hours later, it was finally sealed up with about a mile of tape, a box inside a box, surrounded by every piece of bubble wrap and foam wrap that I could scrounge, and filled with packing paper and those bubble pillows. Phew. (I also cleaned out our box department, where those cardboard containers have been multiplying in the dark, because finding 2 appropriate boxes was a project in and of itself.)
More Work
Since I was hot and dirty, I decided to face the mess in my studio, where we unloaded boxes and stacks of paintings after bringing it all home (except for 4 pencil drawings, a few books, and a large stack of cards).
I went through the paintings and drawings, chose my favorites, and began hanging them. There was a loud crash, and I turned back to see that the wire on the back of a pencil drawing came out of the frame. I guess the screw hole was stripped. The glass didn’t break, so it wasn’t all bad. (Yes, I know I am not storing the flag correctly. I also need to vacuum again. Probably need to dust too, and clean the windows.)
Then I had to pack all the rest into the painting workshop, which has a swamp cooler, and a lot of shelves, which all need to be rearranged and cleaned. Never mind. I’d rather draw.
Drawing
Finally, I was able to do some artwork. I chose the colors that seem to best match Texas bluebonnets, colored one, and then decided to show the customers before I finish the flowers. I can lighten the colors a bit, but I cannot erase. (I think that this photo is a bit exaggerated in its darkness.)
Everything felt too hard, too full of obstacles. So, I ran away for a few days. Maybe I’ll tell you about it later.
Still want to be an artist when you grow up?
P.S. The studio only looked like this for a day because one of the stores that sells my work suddenly had a lot of space to fill!
Does this look finished to you? It’s not. When I was driving home a few evenings ago, I really studied the way the ridges change color as they recede into the distance.
So, I messed with them again. The differences are subtle, and now that I see it on my screen, I think it might even want a bit more adjusting. (The painting that never gets finished. . .)
Now there are oranges on the trees.
The blossoms popped out on the trees, and there are a few added in the border embellishment.
Now the smudgepot has been refined, the ground is lighter, the fallen oranges are a bit more visible, and there are two more smudgepots in the far distance, too small to see in this photo.
All that remains is a wind machine.
Maybe.
This is representative of Tulare County’s best features, according to me. The weird part is that I compiled the original pencil drawing using photos taken in Lemon Cove and Pauma Valley (in Sandy Eggo County.) I’m not showing you the pencil drawing again in case you are going to tell me all the ways I didn’t match it exactly.
The sky was bugging me, not just because of the uneven brush strokes. It seemed to be the wrong color.
So, I repainted it. Yeppers, better.
Those hills don’t look far enough away.
So, I lightened them and made them duller in color. (a little shiny-wet here)
Then I redid the dirt and the trees.
Prolly doesn’t make much difference from your point of view.
Now I have a list of 12 more things to fix, repair, repaint, relayer, re-detail. My patient customer said she’d like it in April, but didn’t specify a date.
In 1996 or thereabouts, I drew this in pencil. It is a compilation of photos taken in Pauma Valley, Lemon Cove, and maybe even in Ivanhoe and Exeter. For some reason, a reproduction print was still around during my show last fall. It sold quickly, and a friend asked me to paint the scene for her.
I’ve never painted from a pencil drawing before. Since I have experience in the subject matter, and I can still locate most of my reference photos, I said yes. (Everything is easy compared to those miniature faces.)
First pass over the canvas.
Second pass.
Third pass.
I will be taking my time on this since my friend said she would like it some time in April. This remains my current favorite subject matter, and it brings to mind all the phases of favorites that my art has gone through. More on that later. . .
On December 19, the power went off at 7:20. Edison hadn’t bothered to notify us, but judging by the number of boom and utility trucks, we knew it would be a long, cold, dark day. (SO VERY THANKFUL FOR THE WOODSTOVE, THE GENERATOR, AND THE HUSBAND WHO KEEPS IT ALL RUNNING!)
There was a bit of sunshine on the easels for about 2 hours in the morning. With the door open, I was able to make some eensy progress. Since my reference photos for both of these paintings are on my laptop, I needed to be prudent with my screen time. (We don’t run the generator non-stop, and it keeps the fridge and freezer going, which is very far from the painting workshop).
I should be able to paint this without looking at any photos. If the instructions suggestions weren’t to reproduce a specific pencil drawing, I could make up a similar scene. However, in the hopes that the interested party will be happy enough to buy the painting, it is prudent to keep it as close to the drawing as possible.
Tucker stuck with me, not even in the sunshine, just doing the meatloaf to stay warm.
This one is the commission. I want it to be really really good. Really Good. The customer is a delight to work with and not pressuring me at all. I just want to do my best for her.
It helps to see the shapes and proportions more correctly if I turn it all upside down.
I am working from a combination of two photos and the sold painting that the customer wished she had seen first.
SIMPLY HOME ENDS ON SUNDAY, DECEMBER 29, AT CACHE, 125 SO. B STREET, EXETER, NOON-4.
ENTERING GIANT FOREST, 8×16″, $250
2025 CALENDARS, STILL AVAILABLE? (LAST TIME I CHECKED, THERE WERE TWO. )
