River, lake, sequoia tree, river, lake, sequoia tree, river. . .

With the exception of Jeff’s Garden (a commissioned oil painting) and painting a giant sequoia on a wooden panel, I have not painted this summer. This was planned, not accidental. The swamp cooler in the workshopo is loud, fairly inadequate for our summer heat, and has been springing leaks all summer.

Kaweah Arts, a great art gallery/gift shop in Three Rivers, sold more paintings than I anticipated this summer, and other than one backup 6×18” sequoia oil painting, I have no inventory for them. Therefore, it is time to evaluate which sizes and subject matter are selling the best and choose new subjects accordingly.

River, lake, sequoia tree, river, lake, sequoia tree, river. . . Not exactly like that but close enough that I can read the tea leaves, so to speak. Sure, I’d like to paint yarn, iris, a cat, a favorite cabin window, and other everyday items that float my boat, but Mama didn’t raise no fool. (That’s three clichés in one paragraph!!)

My physical photos are arranged in a miniature filing cabinet, and of my 37,000 photos on the laptop, many are set aside in folders to consider painting for my various vendors. I prefer to sell in gift shops instead of non-existent galleries… non-existent around here. As a regionalist from Quaintsville who only paints what I know (except for those very welcome commissions from Anywhere, USA because overseas shipping is out of my league), I’ll let those fancy far-away galleries full of educated ArtWorld city folk do their own thing without me.

Here’s how it looks as I choose the most likely candidates for new paintings and pair them to canvases, all small sizes because they need to be packable for those travelers.

I know you must be curious about the wooden box of tools. I salvaged 3 drawers from an abandoned art studio that was about to be demolished, and they work well enough in this shelf of cubbies that was about to be demolished, which fit perfectly in our workshop where I paint, Trail Guy putters, and the cats spend their nights. (Are you starting to see a pattern in how I accumulate furniture and tools?)

Do you like this table? It is about 32” square, solid wood, the top needs refinishing, and if you want to own it, come get it. A friend (who isn’t as obsessed as I am with not wasting old things) wanted it to go away, and now I need to find a home for it.

First I put on the D-rings. Next, the wires, my worst favorite part. Ever notice that those pliers which are supposed to cut wire only work the first 3-4 times you use them for that purpose?

Alrighty then, seven canvases, all numbered, wired, and ready for the first layer of oil paint.

I finally no longer stress about how ugly the paintings look on the first layer. (Only took twenty years)

Lake, river, oak tree, sycamore tree. (Please please, kind tourists, allow me to paint other trees besides sequoias!)

River, sequoias, Alta Peak

Obviously, I didn’t follow the formula that appears in title of this post. Local folks sometimes want our landmarks rather than the usual tourist choices. Sometimes people ask where I get my inspiration. First, I want to paint what sells because I came here to earn a living and not have to be a secretary or a waitress. Life costs money, particularly if you choose to drive old vehicles.

Second, I love photography, mixing colors, figuring out composition, eliminating the messy stuff, and creating pictures that remind people of the good stuff of Tulare County, right here in the heart of California’s flyover country. (But remember, don’t move here because we are all fat, have diabetes, high unemployment, the worst educated city in all of the entire country as our county seat, bad air, and no Trader Joe’s.)

Third. . . I forgot. Two is enough.

Odd Job on Rusty Corrugated Metal

My friend G is building a pool or pond or something for some people in Three Rivers. He has a vision of a corrugated metal wall with the shape of the mountains cut at the top of the wall. He said the wall would be about 8 feet, and asked if I could draw the mountains at the top so that someone else could use a plasma cutter on the metal.

I said yes.

Then the someone else, let’s call him Jimmy because that is his name, brought over 4 sheets of rusty corrugated metal, each one 12’ in length.

Umm, G, you will need to instruct me. Are these sheets going to stack on one another horizontally? Will they be placed side-by-side vertically? Do you want the same thing drawn on each one in case Jimmy makes a mistake? Or are we working with a 48’ wall?

G sent me some instructions that could be interpreted multiple ways. I suggested that he come to my studio so we could iron out the important details.

Besides, I have four different options for mountain shapes.

Interesting that the most difficult part of the job might be getting clear instructions! The good news is that there is no deadline.

Careful, Central California Artist

Lalalalala. . . that’s the fat lady singing.

I photographed the Reimer’s drawing to send to the owner for his approval.

Nope, that photo was not good enough, so I raised the blind on the window over the drawing table and tried again.

I told Mr. Owner that this was the time to speak up if he wanted any adjustments.

Mr. Owner replied: “I love it. I just noticed the white curtain over the window in the middle. Do you think there’s something else that might go there that would be appropriate or that might look good other than just the white?”

I responded: “I’ll send you the scanned version so you can see it’s a pretty lace curtain. I don’t think that came through with my photograph.”

Scanning is a trick because it is drawn on paper that is ever so slightly too large for my new scanner. I tried it umpteen times, and finally decided it was as centered as possible. This is the scanned version after some photoshop magic.

A Few Thoughts About the Drawing

Bamboozlement and hoodwinkery are two of the necessary skills to produce a cohesive pencil drawing of a highly detailed building with many angles and parts, condensing about 40 photos into one believable view. Maybe I have earned a master’s degree in visual trickinology by now.

There is more to depicting an iconic business like Reimer’s than simply taking a few photos and copying them. First, it is impossible to get the whole thing into one photo and be able to see all the parts of this varied structural magic land of sugar.

The place is oozing with charm, which is evident in all the curly trim, multi-paned windows and different gables. Those gables show up best when looking at the place straight on, but as I continue to tell you, this isn’t possible with a camera.

The setting is idyllic, and I included a hill in the background to indicate that it is in a rural foothill setting. Besides, the hill IS actually there.

And the place is very welcoming. Hence, the main door is open.

Careful, Central California Artist. You don’t want to get a fat head or break your arm patting yourself on the back!

Very Large, Very Detailed Pencil Drawing

Yeppers, still working on and talking about Reimer’s Candies and Gifts.

I was stuck due to a lack of visual information, considering resorting to some hoodwinkery and bamboozlement.

Instead, I stopped by one morning, climbed up some rocks and took several photos, this one being the most useful.

Alrighty, then, let’s git-‘er-dun!

There was a bit of trickonometry involved here, but remember, the goal is believability. People remember what they thought they saw, without thinking exactly about placements and proportions.

I sent this one to the owner because he likes seeing the progress. I also like to reassure customers that I am working on their project.

Getting there, but holy guacamole, these window panes are window pains.

To be continued. . . I’ll finish shading, figure out how to deal with the parking area, then take some time to make sure there are no outlines, no strokemarks that don’t belong, that there is enough contrast in the right places, that there is no smearing, and finally sign it. After that, I get to figure out how to scan the drawing on my new complicated scanner, probably in 2 parts and then put them together with Photoshop Junior.

I could use some chocolate about now after writing that list. Hmmm, wonder if anyone knows where to find some in Three Rivers. . .

Needing a Master’s Degree…

…or perhaps a PhD. The topic? Trickinology. Visual trickinology.

I’m drawing Reimers Candies and Gifts from a straight-on view, something that isn’t really possible to see in real life. Well, maybe it is, but it would take a wide-angle lens, and the resultant drawing would be an entirely unwieldy shape for reproducing as cards.

Here is a progression of a day’s work (with many interruptions—lots of moving parts in my life during this project). I moved that giant oak tree to the right because it was blocking the gift shop and patio.

Instead of 4 chairs, the table only gets 2. Even this artist has her limits on microscopic furniture depictions.

Here’s a substandard photo for you to admire the distance I’ve covered in this monumental, underpriced, over-engineered pencil drawing. (Yeah, I know, I always say that.)

Those windows and the patio look mighty fine, if I do say so myself. And I do. Just tryna not break my arm patting myself on the back.

After admiring my progress, I was temporarily flummoxed. The section on the far right is the ice cream shop. It has many windows and doors, a sign, two stories, a porch overhang, and a very cantilevered second story roof with a severe angle, which doesn’t show in this photo.

See what I mean about the roofline?

All of it is hidden behind that giant sycamore tree when viewed from a straight on angle.

When my drawing students encounter difficulties (because no one listens to me when I tell them a particular subject is too hard), I advise them to put tissue paper over the top and then try to solve the problems that way. (Usually I end up scribbling a solution on the tissue paper while they sit there either frozen in fear or babbling about how they should have listened to me.)

The sycamore tree is barely coming forward from the far right edge.

That’s about all I can manage before I get frozen in fear or start babbling about how I should have listened to my own advice.

Wait, I didn’t give myself any advice except to make this the very very best depiction that I can possibly do of an iconic Three Rivers business.

Fast or Good?

My drawing students are used to me telling them, “You can be fast or you can be good; I get to be both.”

The braggadocio recently got tested. Someone had an art emergency, and gave me about 5 drawing days to complete a commissioned pencil drawing. There were more calendar days than just five, but I can no longer do detailed work in Mineral King (eyes too old and no drawing table or electricity for the magnifying light or to recharge the computer when using photos from it), and I had a funeral to attend, groceries to buy, and some sprinklers to keep running (the landscaping project at church, can’t find the link but you prolly* don’t need to see it anyway, and who cares about “SEO” and all the internet hoops to increase visitation, mostly by scammers and robots? Not this little gray duck.)

First steps

The customer had to get to the cabin, sneak photos when the intended recipient of the drawing was gone, and text them to me. Then I had to transfer them to the laptop and sort through, finding duplicates, organizing by potential usefulness. There were many important questions to be answered: Is the garage important? Is the fire ring important? May I move the sign? Where is the name of the cabin? Is the fairy house important? How many umbrellas are usually on the porch? May I leave off some of those lounge chairs?

Second step

Slammed out a sketch for approval. (I’ve whited out the cabin name and address because after all, this IS the World Wide Web, and we respect privacy in this corner.)

Good thing the customer has faith in my ability to draw. This sketch was fast, but it wadn’t* good by any stretch other than it shows what will be in the drawing.

Starting

I started laying it out, and then got a little tired of that. Shading is the funnest* part, so I started in the upper left so that my right handedness doesn’t smear as I work across.

At the end of the work day (nope, not using the tiresome cliche “at the end of the day”), I was this far along.

I love to draw!

*Wadn’t” is right there with “tryna”, “prolly”, “liberry”, and “Remorial Building”. You may recall that I attended high school in Visalia, the least (second least according to another article) educated city in the entire United States. Let’s just have some fun with that fact.

P.S. If you happen to recognize this cabin, stay quiet about it, PLEASE!

A Beary Odd Job

From time to time, I get asked to do an odd job, something that requires a bit of paint, a bit of skill*, and the willingness to try.

Remember this? A Welcome Bear

Or this one? Little Bucky 1, Little Bucky 2

Here is the latest one in my collection of unusual jobs. This bear’s job is to hold up a round glass table; mine was to paint him.

*Actually, I think it requires confidence working with paint and paint brushes, but probably not a lot of skill.

Beach Birds or Shore Birds?

I got to know someone from New Jersey when I attended college in San Diego. Most of us said “beach”, but our New Jersey suite mate said “shore”. Actually I think she said “sho-ah”.

The owners of my pier drawing asked me to draw some “shore birds”, but I think they are both native Californians. That’s okay, I knew what they meant.

I got ahead of myself, and stopped drawing to ask this question: “Do you want me to make them exactly the same as in the one you saw on my blog, or may I have freedom to move the birds around and add some more?”

The answer came back thus: “I didn’t save the picture from the blog, so I can’t answer you precisely- however I think the artist’s choice would be most satisfactory. Just not too busy – the wave action in the pier drawing is kind of serene, so the shore birds might reflect the same.”

So, I changed my drawing a bit by erasing a few birds from this first version:

Then I darkened a few things, added some rocks, and finished the wet sand.

This will look excellent with the pier. Let me demonstrate here for you to admire.

I sure have a hankering to go to the beach. Or the shore. Even the sho-ah would be amazing.

Eager to Draw

Last year some fine folks of impeccable taste bought this pencil drawing. A few months later, they saw this drawing on my blog and decided it would be a nice companion to the pier.

It would, but whoever owns it would likely disagree. Fortunately for these fine folks of impeccable taste, I accept commissions; fortunately for me, they would like a new drawing, this time in the same shape and size as the pier.

They sent the dimensions, said “no rush”, and I started immediately. I love the beach and by drawing this, it feels somewhat as if I am spending time there. Besides, another two commissions are stuck in Waiting Customer Approval or Waiting for a Deposit mode.

I laid out the size, and determined where the horizon belongs. I think that the 2 photos on the left were what I worked from last time. Those were taken with a film camera, so it’s been awhile…

I now have many more and better quality beach bird photos, so i started experimenting with placement and sizes. This time I carried it outside into the hot bright sun to photograph.

Unsure of bird placement other than that one Jonathan Livingston, I jumped to the sky and water. S’posed to be working top to bottom, left to right so I don’t smear, so shading the birds would have been premature.

It was too hot outside, so now the photos will be a little crummier for you.

Quite an assortment of birds.

That drawing is a lousy print of a lousy photograph of the earlier drawing. You can see I’ve got quite a stack of photos to refer to

Suddenly I got nervous. I forgot to ask my customers a very important question before beginning: Do you want the same birds as in the previous drawing, or can I do a new assortment?

Hmmm, I might end up with a beach bird drawing to store in my flat files and then need to start over.

Every single custom job I do has all sorts of ways I can mess up. You’d think that after this many years, I’d know of all the possible ways to avoid this sort of hazardous situation. You might need to have another think.

I really like the assortment, the big crashing waves, the flock in the sky. If it doesn’t suit my customers, maybe I’ll frame it and keep it anyway. I miss the pier drawing, because it hung by my drawing table for several years before I finally took it to the gallery where it sold.