Maybe, Maybe Not

When I look at a finished painting in person, it seems truly finished. This painting signifies the best of Tulare County to me, and I am not always objective.

However, when I look at a photograph of the painting on my screen, sometimes things appear that weren’t all that noticeable in person. 

Here is a progression of the untitled painting that is finished, or maybe not.

Tuesday morning overview.

Tuesday morning lower right corner, unfinished.

Wednesday morning lower right corner, finished (but in shade so hard to tell what is what).

May I be finished now? Better put it in the sunshine for a truer color photo.

Now may I sign it, and then paint the edges? 

Maybe, maybe not. Better let it mull a bit, study, scrutinize, put on my truth glasses (just a figure of speech) and try to be objective.

Or maybe I should show the customers and see if they think I am finished.

Maybe, maybe not. 

What is this mess?

When I paint commissions, I go through stages something like this:

  1. Not sure, but I will try
  2. Piece of cake
  3. What is this mess?
  4. What have I gotten myself into?
  5. I’ve got this.
  6. What is this mess?
  7. Who told me I could paint?
  8. Ooh, I love to draw with my paintbrush!
  9. What is this mess?
  10. Oh my goodness, I think I am going to finish soon!
  11. What is this mess?
  12. Make a harshly honest list and fix those things.
  13. Can’t find another thing to fix, better sign it and get it out of my face before I mess it up.

This was probably about step 8.

Then I hit step 9.

I painted for a morning, repairing all sorts of messes, drawing with my paintbrush. Can you see the improvements?

 

Now it might be at step #10.

It looks wrong in this light. But you can see that only a small portion in the lower right hand corner remains untouched. I might hit a couple more “What is this mess” stages. I went a little nutso trying to get the highway better, narrowing the driveway at the bottom, detailing the rows of citrus trees more, adding in a few more buildings and tightening up the ones that were there, and planting a couple of new groves. I did not darken the blue mountains but actually lightened them. However, this is not apparent in the poor light of early afternoon photography.

Then I had to quit because my friends were waiting for me to come over and make some more stepping stones.

More remains, but the fat lady will be warming up her vocal cords soon.

Dragging it Out

This commissioned oil painting is highly detailed, in spite of the fact that it is a landscape. People who see it want to know where it is, where I was when I got my photos, what are they seeing. 

It is impossible to put in every single grove, building, road, dirt road, and random tree. I enlarge the photo on my laptop to an astronomical size in order to see what the tiny spots are, decide the main landmarks that would be helpful to the viewer, try to get them in the right place, and then use my tiniest paintbrushes to indicate them.

Can you see the added detail?

Every time I work on this painting, I have to change things that I thought were right. 

I am not worried. There is still time to finish and to finish well, believably, and with confidence that this will be my best work.

But maybe I should put more hours into this custom oil painting and stop making stepping stones.

Two Commissions, Continued

This is the best photograph I was able to get of the Fiftieth Bouquet. (It just occurred to me that I may not have actually titled the painting!) I was able to eliminate the shiny spots but cropped the left side a bit. One of the things that is always pounded in all art advice workshops, classes, books, and websites is to hire a professional photographer for one’s work.

Fall down laughing.

That might work for people who just complete one painting a month and then sell it for $5000 or $50,000, but that is not the way things work for this Central California artist. So, I bumble along with my PHD* camera. (My more expensive cameras have broken so I no longer waste money on them.)

I also inched along a bit more on my favorite subject.

Can’t wait to get back to this one, but then I will finish and have to say goodbye to it.

Life is a series of decisions, choices and consequences.

*Press Here Dummy

Mired in Detail

After spending a good chunk of an afternoon drawing with my paintbrush, perfecting the detail on the 50th Anniversary Floral Bouquet oil painting, I had a real hankering to return to the commissioned oil painting of my favorite subject. “Slamming out” some quick small paintings for the Redbud Festival just wasn’t lighting my candle.

This painting was calling my name.

I began texturing the distant hills. 

Then I built a few roads.

If this wasn’t a commissioned piece, it would go in my dining room. I can paint another for myself, but there is enough other (PAYING) work that it is not a priority. 

So, I will enjoy the process of being mired in detail for someone else’s happiness. Snow, GREEN, poppies, CITRUS. . . the very best that Tulare County has to offer. (But remember, we have bad air, high unemployment, diabetes, teen pregnancies, high welfare, no Trader Joe’s or Whole Paycheck grocery stores, and a severe lack of education. Just sayin’ in case you were thinking of bringing some big city values to our little piece of California’s flyover country.)

What Matters on a Commissioned Oil Painting

This wisdom about perfecting a painting is from Betty Edwards, most known for her book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. She also wrote a helpful book about color, helpfully titled Color.

  1. Do any of the lightest lights seem to pop out rather than staying anchored?
  2. Do any of the darkest darks seem to carve holes?
  3. Does any area that is not the main event seem to fight for attention?

Turn it upside down to evaluate for these next questions:

  1. Does it seem heavy on one side or the other, or on the top or bottom?
  2. Does anything seem out of place, either too bright or too dull?

I evaluated the anniversary bouquet painting using these questions. It went from looking like this:

to looking like this:

Then I incorporated the very apt suggestion from reader (and friend and former drawing student) Nikki to make the edges of the carnations more fringed. Here is better fringiness on the left side:

And the not yet fringed right side for your comparison:

Then I fixed the hanging ribbon, the patchy-looking background, the repaired coaster, a dab here and a touch there, and finally added in a little something on the bottom left quarter.

Now it will dry, I will continue to mull it over, study it, and eventually, I hope to find the courage to sign it and call it FINISHED. (Mr. and Mrs. Customer are no help in this finalizing and nitpicking because they have been thrilled with the painting at every stage!) 

P.S. It looks better in person; there are weird shiny spots because so many parts are wet.

 

 

Oh, Those Red Carnations

The carnations were last seen at this stage. The coaster, vase with stems, bows, vase-base, roses, and even the curly willow weren’t up to the level that Mr. and Mrs. Fifty Years deserve.

What’s a Central California artist to do?

Well, just keep licking the canvas, of course. (Don’t get your knickers in a twist–it is only a figure of speech.)

When an item is complicated with subtle angles that matter, I turn it upside down and copy exactly what I see. Okay, not EXACTLY, but as close as I am able on the angles and proportions that matter. The coaster beneath the vase is a real bugger-bear, to quote my friend Ft. Worth Jim. (who pronounces his name “Jee-im” as if it has 2 syllables). 

(Hi Gnat!)

Where was I?

The upside down coaster, while looking at the upside down photo on the laptop screen.

There are many details to it, details that can be ignored because it is not the reason for the painting.

The roses are Very Important to the painting. Carnations have their own happy prettiness, but roses are pure elegance.

Can I be finished now?

Nope. Here is some self-talk: Study the photo of the painting, evaluate the things that matter, speculate on what could be better, touch up those little items, strengthen the contrast, soften the irrelevant parts, and don’t sign it until you have taken it to the nth degree.

Yes, I know, the painting has come a very long distance from its humble beginning of red blobs, seen here. But the fat lady has not sung. (Someone bring her another cookie, please.)

 

Variety in the Working Life of a Central California Artist

There you go, Search Engines. Hope you like that ridiculously long title.

I had a day of great variety, all of it interesting, all of it productive

  1. This book, Adventures in Boy Scouting, will soon be available as an ebook through Bookbaby. It took a lot of learning, and a lot of proofreading. The print version is available at the Three Rivers Mercantile, Three Rivers Historical Museum, and BookBaby.com. 
  2. After enjoying the nice fire in the house (in the wood stove—no need to be concerned) while proofreading (we had a few cold days), I moved to the painting workshop to do a bit of polishing on the Fiftieth Bouquet oil painting. “Polishing” here means making some small corrections. The roses, red bow, vase, coaster and background are not finished.
  3. I detailed the mountains and put a second layer on my favorite scene.

  4. Then I left the painting workshop and moved into the studio to finish a drawing. After scanning it, I sent it to the customer to get her approval before spray-fixing it and then adding color.

It was a good day of working on projects that are all presold. While it is fun to just paint and draw what I want, it is more satisfying to paint and draw for other people, particularly when they choose subjects that float my boat.

In case you have forgotten because I haven’t shouted this at you for awhile:

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

 

Attending to Other Jobs

When I began these paintings, navels were still hanging on trees, and the blossoms began. Orange blossoms are my favorite scent. Suddenly, orange blossom season was almost over, and I hadn’t touched these 2 small paintings.


They are now available at the Mural Gallery in Exeter. 6×6″, $60; 4×6″, $50 (PLUS TAX, OF COURSE!) The Mural Gallery doesn’t have a website; it is at the park with Exeter’s first mural, next door to the Wildflower Cafe.

Speaking of Exeter’s first mural, here is the beginnings of a similar painting, another painting of my favorite subject.

This one will be fun. It is a commission, and I know I can do it because I painted the same scene a few years ago as a 16×20″. Or maybe 18×24″. I’ve slept since then (and painted many similar scenes).

P.S. The paintings are NOT scratch ‘n’ sniff.

Those Flowers Smell Like Oil Paint

Those flowers smell like oil paint because that is what they are made out of. 

This is a fun project, unlike anything I have ever painted before. I have painted individual flowers on 6×6″ canvases, but never a 16×20″ bouquet, with all its tangled and overlapping pieces. I am also just making up the background, intending to adjust the darks and lights to best show off the flowers. (A 50th wedding anniversary bouquet, commissioned as a painting so it will last forever.)

Background first.

Find where the ribbons might be draping. Since there is red on the brush, work on the carnations.

 

Keep working on the carnations, fill in more greenery, dab a few more baby’s breath, add the white ribbons hanging from the white roses.

Better.

Now I can see that the bouquet is slightly weighted toward the left side.

I took out a leaf on the lower left, but I don’t think that was enough.

This is better. I erased more of the lower left leaves, added another leaf to the upper right (smallish, beneath the top rose and to the right), fixed some other weird leaves, and added a bit more curly willow to the upper right.

Everything will need another layer or two or even three.