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.
Just a few days ago I told you about Trail Guy hiking to the Franklin/Farewell junction and lamented my lack of hiking this summer. Last Sunday a friend and I decided to go to the Franklin/Farewell junction, because I really wanted to see it at least one more time in my life. (yes, being a bit dramatic here). I figured I could turn around if my feet started objecting too loudly (or perhaps wear ear plugs?)
The previous day had a terrific storm, but looking toward Farewell seemed clear, so K and I took off, (along with Trail Guy for the first mile or so.)
We saw Western Eupatorium, a flowering shrub I’ve only seen up near Franklin Lake.
We crossed Franklin Creek without trouble; K hopped the rocks and I simply walked through the water, which was shallow and clear, making it easy to see good foot placement.
Shortly after crossing, we felt a few raindrops. No problem: we each had a parka AND a poncho.
Good thing. Thunder, lightning, rain, and hail, but we just marched ourselves onward up the trail with only one break to stand under some trees (yes, risky with lightning) when the hail got too strong.
The white line is hail; the brown line is the very muddy stream.
When we reached the junction, the storm seemed to be letting up, so we stopped for a bit to see if any flowers remained and to eat something. (This was a hike, not a walk, so we carried food and water, and needed ponchos to keep our packs dry.)
Feeling hopeful, but cautious, we cut our break short and headed back down the trail. Two men had just passed us on their way down from Forrester Lake, cutting their backpack trip short by a day because the weather was a bit much.
Not long after heading back down, it all started again, with pouring rain that turned to hail, and steady thunder and lightning. We caught up to the men, sheltering under some trees because the hail was just so strong again. After a little conversation about how our ponchos were fairly ineffective, we headed down again. The trail turned to a flowing stream of mud, making it difficult impossible to see foot placement. I gave up pretending that the combination of parka and poncho were keeping me dry, accepting cold and wet as reality. (Ever get hail in your Crocs? It feels like a pebble, but eventually it melts.)
We took a couple of breaks beneath the few groups of trees, just to assess ourselves and one another. K is tough as nails, resourceful, always cheerful, and game for almost anything as long as it is in Mineral King, making her an excellent hiking partner. So, we mushed ahead and then. . .
. . . Franklin Creek!! Completely uncrossable. Raging, muddy, scary.
I took two photos, then packed my camera into its case (knit and felted by me, of course), then the poncho bag, and then buried it in my pack under the non-effective poncho. No more photos—the hike’s focus became solely about getting home in one piece.
NO MORE PHOTOS
K and I thought about our choices:
Wait for the two men to arrive and cross in a human chain, holding to one another for support. (K did this downstream on Franklin Creek many years prior).
Get comfortable and wait for the stream flow to subside.
Find another way home.
Option one still felt too risky; option two was too unknown and could take hours; option three was the best.
We went back up the trail to where we could bushwhack our way down to the East Fork of the Kaweah, which begins up at Farewell Gap. I guess you could call this “Farewell Creek”, or “Farewell Drainage”. Whatever its real name, we made our way to the stream, which was very muddy but not raging. The challenge was clambering up the bank after crossing, and somehow we made it up the other side without actually falling in, with apologies to the willows and other shrubs that we stomped on.
Then what? We knew that there was an old “trail” (just a route, because the trail is not visible in most places) up that side of the canyon to Farewell Gap. When we were on the trail, I led; when we were off trail, K led. I did my best to keep up, and she was very kind in waiting when she saw I was struggling—she is quite tall compared to me, and used to this sort of scramble-hiking, whereas I usually avoid this off-trail stuff.
We went over wet grass, through scratchy shrubs, over fallen logs, through a bear sleeping area (he wasn’t home), through some soggy little drainages, and over a zillion slippery branches, one of which knocked me to the ground, but only one, so there.
THOUGHTS, EXPRESSED AND NOT EXPRESSED
If anyone had shown me a video of the day’s hike, I would have said, “I’ll pass—just leave me here by the wood stove with my knitting.”
I know this is wacko, but I’m kind of having fun!
Unless one of us gets dementia, we’d NEVER forget this day. (We’ve been friends for 40 years, and this was definitely a memory maker.)
Trail Guy would hate this!
ONWARD
We knew we’d have to cross White Chief Creek, and because K was familiar with that side of the canyon, she knew that it flattens out where it enters the East Fork, which was also a raging muddy force of wetness. After crossing White Chief, we continued down canyon, aiming to connect with the trail which the pack station used to use for crossing the East Fork.
Just as we hoped, K led us directly to that trail, which she referred to as “Davis Camp”, and we huffed and puffed our way up to the real trail, the one that leads to White Chief, where we had considered going. I pushed for the Franklin/Farewell junction, since I’ve been to White Chief twice this summer.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH
(WHERE did that saying come from??) Trail Guy was getting mighty worried. He went to a neighbor to apprise him of the situation, and together they began discussing a plan, correctly thinking that the Franklin crossing would be impossible.
While they were formulating a plan, we made it home. Trail Guy asked what I would have done if the situation was in the reverse. I said that I would have assumed he’d know to cross the East Fork and bushwhack his way home on the other side of the canyon, just as K and I did. He said that was exactly what he would have done, validating K and my decision making.
In thinking over the situation, K was the perfect partner for the adventure. Her cool head, optimistic attitude, knowledge of the area, stamina, and general toughness were just the right combination.
Meanwhile, we will never know how those two men made it across Franklin Creek.
Oh yeah. This is supposed to be a business blog. Have a look at a couple of oil paintings of Franklin Creek (both sold, but I can paint either scene again.)
Looking downstream, not too far below the Franklin Lake dam.
Like that song by Dolly Parton? Nope. Starting 2 new oil paintings of Mineral King (and finishing one other).
This is 3×9”, a new size I found in Salem at Michael’s. Visalia’s Michael’s doesn’t have any this size (or the 4×12”, which I quickly used to paint Sequoia trees.) This does not surprise me; the Central Valley of California usually gets lesser quality merchandise in its chain stores, of which there is an abundance (EXCEPT for Trader Joe’s, of course). However, we did get the largest Catholic church in North America, right in Visalia, although after a year of asking me to write and rewrite a contract to paint a mural, no contract was signed. In frustration, annoyance, exasperation, and a big injection of reality I raised my prices significantly. They gasped in horror, went searching for another muralist, and now, 2 years later, STILL NO MURAL.
Wait—we were talking about new paintings. This will be titled Mineral King Dusk #??
Here is a 6×12” of the classic Mineral King scene. Yes, upside down.
Layer #1 is now good enough to set aside for drying.
This trail scene, Mineral King Trail III, is now drying, awaiting a scan.
The color will be truer with the scan.
Why is it called “scan”, which is the first syllable of the word “scandal”? And why does it sound so close to “scam”?
Translation of the title: I started two new paintings, finished one painting, and completed one in a single painting session (called alla prima in ArtSpeak, which means you layer wet upon wet).
With a sequoia painting in the queue but not wanting to waste paint in non-sequoia colors on the palette, I chose to begin another little beach painting. Why not? I have the boards, and the colors were just waiting to be used. (Fret not—this will look good eventually. I made it really small here so you wouldn’t get scared. I’m thoughtful that way.)
A sequoia gigantea painting sold and needed to be replaced quickly at Kaweah Arts, because this is Sequoia Selling Season here in Three Rivers.
Another painting hasn’t garnered proper appreciation, so rather than just wait indefinitely for the right customer, I will turn it into something else. What else might that be? The Honeymoon Cabin in Mineral King, the little museum of the Mineral King Preservation Society.
Finally, here is our alla prima painting, another speedy piece of work because one sold and needs to be replaced quickly at the Silver City Store.
The paintings were all painted during a not-too-hot day when the swamp cooler was adequate, while knowing very hot weather was coming, perfect for quick drying. Paintings need to be dry before getting scanned (duh), and they need to be scanned (or photographed at the very least) before delivered to stores and galleries. This is particularly important when one paints the same scenes over and over and over. . .
I have some new friends, acquaintances really, because we haven’t met in real life, but we are learning to know each other. They are bloggers like me, but with much bigger audiences, so I feel honored that they show up here from time to time. They don’t know about Mineral King so here is a little introductory information.
Heading to Eagle Lake, 16×20”, $650
Mineral King is an area of Sequoia National Park, accessible by a gnarly dead-end road. It is the most beautiful part of Sequoia and only open seasonally—Memorial Day through the end of October, weather depending. There is a community of private cabins, and I am fortunate enough to have married in 39 years ago.
Sawtooth #65, 24×30”, $2000
Cabin communities are a real treasure, with their own unique culture. Because I have lived most of my life at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountain range, I have had the privilege of spending time in four different cabin communities in the mountains. My business is called Cabin Art because when I started, I lived in a cabin and I drew people’s cabins. I have published two books of of pencil drawings on two different cabin communities—one sold out a long time ago and the other still available.
Honeymoon Cabin, sold
Because Mineral King is such a beloved place, I write about it frequently during cabin season. I try to incorporate some art**, because this blog is supposed to be about my business. Frankly speaking, people are more interested in cabin life, the trails, wildflowers, the road, and Mineral King in general than in my art.
Sawtooth #66, 12×24, $650
*I won’t be writing about Mineral King every Friday at the beginning of this summer because I have a handful of situations that will prevent me from going quite as often as normal.
**Yes, this time a lot of art. I came here to earn a living.
P.S. I’ve included links to the first four “chapters” (posts) that I wrote about cabin life back in 2023. If you want more, you can follow the prompts at the bottom of each “chapter” (in quotes because it is more like a picture book than a chapter book) that will lead you to the next posts. There are twenty-two.
This painting had the tightest deadline of all the paintings in progress. After a day of doing many non-painting projects, I got a day to paint uninterrupted (except for Jackson).
The edges are painted. It needed to dry, be signed, get photographed, varnished and get rewired from its previous iteration as a horizontal painting.
This is Sawtooth #66, 12×24”, oil on wrapped canvas, $650, located at the Silver City Resort, 4 miles below Mineral King.
The tall narrow (12×24”) oil painting of Sawtooth has a deadline. There is a narrow but visible spot in the Silver City Store where I hang a tall narrow Mineral King painting each summer. Last summer I took up a tall and narrow painting of that classic Mineral King view on Memorial Day weekend. Somewhat flippantly I told the manager the price, adding “just on the off chance that it sells”, because usually only the suitcase-sized paintings sell.
It sold that weekend.
So, let’s not shilly-shally, hmmm?
The river and rocks are kind of too small to see in the 4×6” snapshot. I make up a lot of stuff too, which sometimes is easy and other times requires great thought.
“Make stuff up”?? Make up a lot of stuff! The idea is believability.
The great cover-up almost got finished on the day that the above progress was achieved.
Sawtooth #65,24×30”, $2000 (still drying)
I want to mull it over for a while. It is destined for the solo show at the Heritage Gallery in Tulare, the show titled “Around Here. . . and Sometimes a Little Farther”. Unless you want to buy it first.
The store, no, the employees at the Silver City Resort do their best to sell my paintings every summer. Sometimes they are closed due to pandemics, fires, floods, ultra heavy winters, or ruined roads. But we nevah nevah nevah give up.
There are about five Mineral King paintings at the Mural Gallery and Gift Shop in Exeter which I will retrieve today to take up the hill for Memorial Day weekend, which is early this year. Historically Memorial Day was May 31 until most holidays got Mondayized to become 3-day weekends when people would be the least interrupted and have chunks of time to do things that rarely have anything to do with the date which gave the privilege of time off.
I looked over the paintings, evaluating sizes and subjects, and figured out that five more would probably be adequate until August. Meanwhile I need to concentrate on getting a few more large paintings ready for the solo show, also August.
Stop talking, Central California Artist, and show us your paintings!
Sawtooth #63, 8×8″
Sawtooth #64, 8×10″
Honeymoon Cabin #49, 6×12
Mineral King Family Cabin
Mineral King Trail, 8×8″
Every year it is a by-guess-and-by-golly to figure out which subjects in which shapes and sizes to paint. Lots of artists would have just figured out a way to reproduce the paintings as prints, but I want people to own originals. Besides, I don’t want the unsold inventory hanging around.
As my dad used to say, “You pays your money and you takes your choice”. I have no idea where he got that saying. His main piece of business advice was, “You kiss their fanny and you take their money.” He had a lot of sayings, most kind of funny, and all full of wisdom.
After a moment’s thought, I remembered a made-up somewhat embellished view that sold twice last summer as a 6×12”, the same proportions as this 12×24” canvas. I dug out the relevant photos, and flipped the canvas.
Then what happened? So glad you asked! First, upside down so the proportions would be correct and believable. Sometimes I just need that extra method of seeing correctly (another reason against plein air painting for me.)
It was not dry from the previous day’s painting, so it was a little challenging to keep the paintbrushes from digging up yesterday’s wet colors. I didn’t paint the sky first because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the blue pure. It got this far along, and then it needed some drying time. You can see an outline of Sawtooth, so in spite of not wanting to paint that thing again, here it is, because it sells.
It seemed like an easy task to finish the little canvas of the classic view of Mineral King. I barely need photos anymore and have stopped trying to keep track of how many times I’ve painted this scene. I’ve titled the scene “Farewell Gap”, “Classic Mineral King”, “Crowley Cabin”, and “Mineral King Family Cabin”, and probably a few other names too. It’s good to have one handy, but I pick and choose which elements and which colors. Sometimes the tree on the left is tall, sometimes it is gone. Sometimes the stream lines up with Farewell Gap, sometimes not. The water and snow on the peaks also change from painting to painting. Every time I stand on the bridge to view the scene, I am POSITIVE it has NEVER looked so good. So, I take another photo.
Done!
I’m feeling the pressure to complete all the Mineral King paintings because it is time for the Silver City Resort (4 miles below Mineral King) to open for the season.
