Long Distance Commission

The wonder of the interwebs has brought me a customer that I most likely will never have the pleasure of meeting in person. Let’s call the customer Mr. J. Mr. J and I have gotten acquainted in the comment section of The Frugal Girl blog, and he asked me to paint the home he used to own. “Used to own” means that getting photos is now a bit tricky. New owners almost always make changes, so I am working from several photos, all taken from different viewpoints and at different times in the home’s existence.

Mr. J is a very precise communicator, responsive, specific, and always willing to email, text or talk on the phone.

The project began with an email almost a year ago. We discussed canvas sizes and prices. Mr. J wanted to wait until spring to get photos with certain plants in bloom. Spring came and went with no photos. I’ve learned through the decades that until money exchanges hands, it is simply conversation. I didn’t bug him, knowing that he is a person who will follow through when he is ready.

This past summer, or perhaps early fall, he sent me photos and a deposit check for half down, so we were in business.

Looking through multiple photos taken from different angles, in different seasons, and at different times in the house’s life, I started with a colored pencil sketch, which I scanned and emailed for feedback.

Mr. J sent it back to me in this form: black and white, covered with notes.

I studied it, and realized we needed to have a conversation. We talked quite awhile, and I made lots of notes. The conversation was very helpful in understanding things that made no sense in the multiple photographs.

When I realized the degree of detail that Mr. J wants, I suggested a pencil drawing. He was unsure, because the finished piece will be displayed with other paintings of other buildings. I sent examples of my detailed architectural drawings, and a week or two later, he replied that oil was his preference.

To be continued. . .

New Oil Commission, Chapter 6

We last saw this oil painting commission looking like this. I actually wrote a long list of parts that need work, but it was really unnecessary because I can see what to do.

We refer to this section of trail as the Green Tunnel in the summer months and the Yellow Tunnel in the fall. Customer Mister asked that I add some yellow leaves; I think he would like the painting to reflect the crossover time between the two seasons. So, I did.

Then I kept tinkering around, adding branches, background, more leaves to the upper right, more bark, more trunks in the distance, on and on and on. Who will tell me if/when I finish this?? Not yet—the humanoid will take hours of tiny brush work.

This needs to dry for a little while before I keep detailing. Tomorrow I will be showing you another oil painting commission.

New Oil Commission, Chapter 5

Before I finished layering the background things, I blew off any discipline about painting, ignored conventional wisdom about The Way You Are Supposed to Paint, and I launched into detailing.

When I draw, I work from top to bottom, left to right. This way I don’t rest my hand on finished parts, thus not smearing graphite around. So, in spite of generally painting from back to front (the farthest away thing like the sky first, moving forward toward the closest objects), sometimes I resort to drawing with my paintbrush in places where there are enough layers to warrant the detail. This means the left side of the canvas might start looking pretty good while the middle and the right side still resembles a dog’s breakfast.

I couldn’t see very well with the doors open and bright light behind the canvas, so I rotated it. Hence, the colors appear to have changed. (Did anyone notice this?)

Bark on trees, more branches, better grasses, humanoid becoming more human (and now wearing shorts), more leaves, more this, that, and the other thing.

It was a very satisfying afternoon of painting (and only a little mosquito slapping.)

HEY, SEARCH ENGINES, IN CASE YOU ARE LISTENING, THIS IS A PIECE OF CUSTOM ART, AN OIL PAINTING OF A MINERAL KING SCENE. (Just in case there are a handful of folks who wish to join my tens of readers and see how a painting is built by this regional artist, this self-trained, user of a paintbrush like a pencil.)

WHAP, SLAP!! WHY are there mosquitos still plaguing me in November, for Pete’s sake?!

New Oil Commission, Chapter 4

About the mural

The threat of rain prevented me from beginning on Friday. More relevant:the powers that be did not offer me a key to their building, which means I can only paint on Fridays. This coming Friday I will be setting up for the Holiday Bazaar, and the following Friday is part of Thanksgiving weekend, with no idea if the library will be open. So, why start and then wait 4 weeks before continuing??

Commissioned Mineral King Oil Painting

This custom piece of art, a commissioned oil painting of a Mineral King scene for a customer we will call Mister while not assigning any pronouns in order to protect anonymity, is starting to come together enough that I am no longer questioning the wisdom of accepting the job.

You can see the difference in color below because the sun was behind the hill. The inferior camera phone makes adjustments for low light, while changing the color. I sat down to work on the foreground, to get the darks and lights in the right places, hoping the colors were good (are shadows blue? purple? or just darker dirt and darker grass colors?). Tricky stuff to paint in low light.

I got tired of slapping mosquitos so I stopped after here. (Stopped painting, in hopes that I could stop slapping.)

I am still somewhat apprehensive about my ability to create a humanoid which is not only believable, but recognizable.

But it is too soon to worry about this. Actually, why worry at all? Instead, I’ll continue to paint.

I considered making a list of everything remaining, but it is too soon for that too.

New Oil Painting Commission

“Commission” means someone is paying me to paint custom art for him. Them. Her. Shhhh, I think it will be a Christmas present.

Let’s call the customer Mister. You can decide if it is a man, a woman, or several humans. Mister decided on 20×20”, a square format. The canvas arrived, and I put a very thin coat of paint on it.

This is the version of the requested scene. Yes, it is Mineral King, and that is Trail Guy for size reference.

No wonder my laptop gets splatters on the screen.

Here is the beginning. The photo says “Yellow Tunnel” but Mister is requesting the tunnel to be green.

That’s as far as I got. When it dries, I’ll put in a better sky and a better West Florence (that’s the peak on the left side of Farewell Gap.)

In case you are curious, I painted the tunnel in the green season several years ago. (If it feels like three years, it was probably six.)

Heh-heh, it was actually just five years ago. I think I paint better now. Sure hope so, otherwise I am One Stuck Central California artist. Gotta keep improving. . . always. And don’t give me this “your own worst critic” stuff either, because if I’m not, how will I get better?

And that’s all I’ve got to say about that. For now.

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LAURIE!

Really Big Oil Painting of Classic Mineral King

The day finally came to finish this painting. Well, not entirely finish, because after I photograph a painting, I usually see a long list of things to fix or change or improve. I don’t know why this becomes evident when looking on a screen; it is also true for my drawing students and other friends who paint or draw.

The tall trees were the next thing to paint, and I decided it was time to go in search of my floor easel for larger paintings. We have a lot of storage space, and it wasn’t easy to find or retrieve this thing. But, it was worth the effort—tall easel=ease of painting but ease of locating.

I cleared off the table where an easel usually sits. Whoa, I have a lot of brushes.

Then I lowered the painting so I could sit on the stool and still reach the top. I used to paint standing up. My feet used to not be numb. I’m thankful I can still paint at all.

Stop procrastinating, Central California Artist! You have a large painting to complete, so chop-chop!

First, I redid some of the background details (not so as you’d notice in these little photos, but I didn’t want you to think I was just sitting there.)

A tree grows in Mineral King/Three Rivers/on canvas.

And another tree grows.

Shrub and water time.

Now the canvas is covered. Time to let it dry.

I wondered what it looked like in real sunshine so I carried it outside for a photo. It isn’t signed and the edges aren’t painted, so it didn’t matter that the easel cast a shadow on the top.

Let’s have a little fun. . .

I think this is fun. Simple pleasures. . .

Before I put on my metaphorical critical hat, I just want to enjoy the sense of almost completion of this 18×36″ oil painting of classic Mineral King. I wonder if it will sell at Silver City, sell from my website, or hang on until the solo show in October at CACHE. . . more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

18×36″, oil on wrapped canvas, suitable for framing or ready to hang as is, Classic Mineral King, $1500

Ad-libbing, Guessing, Winging It

On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.

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Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.

Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.

With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.

I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.

Painting Mineral King

In anticipation of a busy selling season this summer at the Silver City Store, I am painting like fury to have inventory. If I can get enough small pieces finished ahead of time, then I can return to painting larger Tulare County scenes for the solo show in the fall at CACHE in Exeter.

The most popular scene, assembly-line style for the base coats. Fret not: they will be detailed individually, and I won’t have all of them on display at the same time.

All of these are in various stages of completion, contributing to a sense of chaos and indecision as to how to proceed. It’s just part of the process when one chooses to be a factory, churning out many paintings of the same scenes.

These 6×6″ will be ready to go, once dried, scanned, and varnished.

Clockwise from upper left: White Chief, Alpenglow on Farewell Gap, View from the Bridge, Sawtooth.

This one was easier the second time I painted the scene. I’m a little reluctant to look at it side-by-side with the first version in case I decide this one is A. better or B. needs more work.

Finally, I started a 20×24″ painting of a scene shared with me by a drawing student. It looks like a weird abstract in the first pass over the canvas, but you trust me, yes? And you probably recognize the scene in the second photo here.

This one is going to be challenging but very satisfying. I messed with the photo to make it look more like we want to remember the scene rather than just accepting what the camera says. It really is a classic Tulare County vista.

Painting With a Few Interruptions

Another beautiful spring day, accompanied by the desire to just be outside and pull weeds.

Nope. It’s a workday, chica.

But wait! There’s an eclipse! I joined Trail Guy for a brief look at the weirdness of shadows and light, with the help of a colander and a piece of white paper.

Back to work.

Two paintings now drying, so that tighter detail can be applied in the next session.

How about another break to enjoy the wildflowers?

Back to work.

In spite of succumbing to a few temptations, it was a very productive day. So, here is our final reward of the day.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Stroben!