Indoor Oak Tree Finished

The fourth and final day’s plan was to complete leaves and add birds. So, that’s what I did, very systematically, working from right to left. Yes, that’s backward, but I chose that direction because it involved less couch moving.

After studying real oak trees for awhile, I thought I could be more realistic about the leaves than the previous days brush-tapping style. Nope. Never mind. Fast horse viewing might be a little inconvenient inside a room, but that’s what the leaves will require to be believable.

I had to move the couch to reach the left side. No big deal, because it scooted very easily on the waxed floor of hideous old linoleum squares. (I wonder how long before we view fake wood-look linoleum as hideous.)

After the leaves came the big challenge, which was the gravy on top, or maybe the cherry on top, or maybe just dessert: details, drawn with my paintbrushes, using colors other than greens and browns.

That was so fun that I did it again.

And a third time! Look, I even signed it. Not big, not my normal way. This is my church, not an advertisement for the public.

There’s the whole thing before the furniture got put back in place.

With the furniture back in place, we have an inviting gathering place in a room that used to be kind of institutional and quite junky. (Pay no attention to the institutional table and the upside down table in the center of the rug.)

And try to disregard the 1970s bentwood rocker with the grody-looking upholstery. (This is a church without any money, so everything has been donated, which contributes to the decorating style that is a blend of Shabby Chic and Early Garage.)

Here is a view that is fairly inviting. And that blue jay won’t poop on your head even if you sit on the couch.

I’m wishing I’d saved some of the Before photos from two years ago so you could fully appreciate the long road of decisions, negotiations, and hard work that led to this current situation.

The Building in the Library Mural

Good sunlit photo but before it was quite finished.

When I was designing the Ivanhoe Library mural, I dug around for photos of a building that is cemented in my memory as a beautiful old structure. (Apparently, I’ve loved old buildings all my life.) I found a photo of the Ivanhoe School auditorium in Laura Spalding’s book Ivanhoe—the Town with Three Names: Klink, Venice Hill, Ivanhoe. I was confused that her book identified it as “Ivanhoe Community Hall”, but I recognized it instantly as the building where I learned to play the clarinet*, gave my campaign speech to be the school president**, checked out books, and played the piano for the jazz band.

When I finished painting it, I added “Ivanhoe School Auditorium” and then thought it would be nice to provide the year it was built along with the year it went away.

Like most things in life, that was easier said than done. The librarian called the History Room at the main library branch, and was told it was built in 1932 and demolished in 1948.

Nope and nope. Architecturally speaking, it is clearly older than 1932, and since I graduated from Ivanhoe in 1973, I KNEW it was standing past 1948.

So, I went to Visalia (had to go anyway to retrieve Momscar with its new starter) and visited the History Room. Library Historian Hunter and I pulled three thick folders from a filing cabinet and started flipping through all sorts of old papers.

Like much in life, the building’s dates are complicated, far too complicated to simply put as “19XX – 19??” on the mural.

Here’s what we learned in two different places, along with Spalding’s book:

It was built around 1926 as a community hall. Then, maybe in 1932, or maybe 1937, “the community, who being unable to meet the indebtedness gladly disposed of it to the school.” One source says it was moved in 1932, another says it was moved in 1937; a third source says it was moved in spring of 1939.

Nowhere have I found the year that the building was demolished. Maybe demolition records aren’t kept, because the demolishers are embarrassed to be part of destroying history, or maybe because it is viewed as a hazard or junk to be gotten rid of, rather than something old and beautiful that has reached the end of its functional life.

So, the painting of the old school auditorium will not have dates, only its title as I recall it: Ivanhoe School Auditorium.

When I was a regular patron of the Ivanhoe library, sometimes we had to go to the main library in Visalia in order to find enough good material to write a term paper or do a report. What is now the children’s library used to be the entire Visalia library, which I found to be stunning and overwhelming. I also thought the building was beautiful, because it is. The architectural style is like the house my dad grew up in, built in 1932. (The house—the library was completed in 1936, so it was clearly the same era.)

P.S. I drew the library in 1989 before the new one got built.

P.P.S. I also stopped by a retail store in Visalia to see a childhood friend from Ivanhoe who told me the school library wasn’t in the bay window but was in a door off the porch. That’s why I added a hint of a door on the otherwise dark and bland front porch. I sure would like to find more photos of the building, both in and out, but those were the days before everyone carried a camera.

* Nope, can’t play clarinet anymore

** Yeppers, I won.

Library Mural, Day Thirteen, FINISHED!

The mural looked like this when I arrived in Ivanhoe (photo from the end of the previous painting day—I arrived early enough that the light wasn’t yet on the mural.)

After talking to an old friend who remembered more details than I, I added a hint of a door on the porch of the old auditorium. (Please excuse the poor quality of the After photo!)

Then I added orange blossoms. These are only important if you are up close and inspecting the mural; they are irrelevant if you are riding a fast horse.

Next, I flailed around for a while, trying to figure out where to work next. The idea that I might finish had me a little wound up, wondering if it was possible, wondering how to prioritize. The rooster rose to the top of the list—all those colors!

Here are the feet, before and after.

Next, I sat on the ground, now redwood chips rather than mud, and began the quail.

I stood back, studied the mural while visiting with my cousin on the phone, and decided that the blue sky in the Twin Buttes inset was too blue, too flat, too perfect.

Okay, now let’s look at the whole thing. This was a quick-quick-quick-before-the-tree-shades-it shot.

Some more staring and thinking brought me to the conclusion that despite simplifying the packing label, I needed to not abbreviate Klink to Klink Citrus; the name was Klink Citrus Association. And since I couldn’t figure out how to legibly paint “Tulare County, California” on the wall’s rough surface, I simply added “Ivanhoe.”

Throughout the day, I touched up a few more things, brightening the arms of the wind machine, tightening up the edges of the smudge pots, closing up gaps around some of the insets, putter, putter, tinker, tinker.

Enough, already! I signed it. Even with the guidelines of the bricks, my name went crooked. YOU TRY WRITING YOUR NAME WITH A PAINTBRUSH WHILE LYING ON THE GROUND!

Okay, one more photo before it was completely finished but also before the shadows hit it.

One last look.

I loved working on this mural—the commute, the ease of not working on ladders, the subject matter, the neighborhood, being at the library of my youth, meeting the various people who stopped by, the roosters, the patrolling dogs and yowling cats, all of it.

THANK YOU, IVANHOE!

P.S. An inside mural begins today, Lord willing, etc. . . if I do begin, it will be on the blog on Wednesday. Tomorrow is a little history tidbit about the mural.

Library Mural, Day Twelve

Last week I did not work on the mural for reasons that are irrelevant to my public life, as shared here with my tens of readers. The week before last, actually, since I show you on Mondays what I did on Fridays. Never mind.

This is how it looked last; it’s kind of hard to see things accurately in the late afternoon sun and shadow.

When I got to the library on Friday, it looked like this:

Wait, what is missing?? The mulberry trees were pruned, and THE REDWOOD LOG IS GONE, ALONG WITH THE STUMP! Whoops. That was a monument. Sure made nice chips on the ground and So Much Easier to see and work on the mural!!

There is a saying out there that when you have a difficult job facing you, i.e.,“a frog”, you should “eat the frog first”. So, I did: Ladder Man.

After I painted Ladder Man (this was the 2nd or 3rd attempt), Intern correctly and objectively pointed out that he was too small. (Thank goodness for Intern.) So, I kept Ladder Man the same size but moved him farther away in the orchard, conveniently placed behind the Twin Buttes inset so that the wonky ladder wasn’t visible.

Intern worked on orange blossoms for 3+ hours. (Thank goodness for Intern.) Then I dripped some paint on the bright orange on the label, tried to wipe it off, and then Intern turned it into a star, to be fixed later. I hope we remember all the Fix-it-Laters. . .

While Intern worked on the zillions of tiny white dots masquerading as distant orange blossoms, along with gray-ish green dots in the shadows, I tackled the next frog on the menu—painting the old Ivanhoe School Auditorium on that very rough wall surface, minus a T-square and a triangle, which I would be using if I was drawing it in pencil, or perhaps even when painting if the wall had been plastered.

I worked from left to right, across the inset, just as I would do if drawing in pencil. Yes, I was drawing with my paintbrush!

Time to stand back and admire all the progress, with the sunshine and clear treeless and logless view.

Then I decided to label the Auditorium inset, because no one will know what it is unless I tell them.

That was such a success (with space remaining to put in the year it was built and the year it was torn down if I am able to learn that information) that I decided to help people know what Twin Buttes are. That helped fill the too-big real estate of the road.

I sat down in the redwood wood chips which replaced the mud, and began fixing the label. You can see how the daylight changed during that interval to the late afternoon sunshine which casts a golden glow.

Please admire the detailed orange blossoms and navel on the label’s orange:

Further, note the claws on the rooster along with a hint of a shadow. This appeared on the actual label when I held it in the formerly unavailable bright sunshine.

Throughout the process of painting this mural, I continually use the measurement of “best viewed from the back of a fast horse”. After detailing the auditorium, Intern said it was “getting to be slow horse quality.”

I wonder if I’ll be able to finish it next Friday. Prolly not, when I consider how many orange blossoms remain, along with an uncontrollable desire to make the oranges brighter throughout. I also want to add a few more details, because those are the types of things that keep people looking closely.

To top off the great day of painting, there were PEOPLE IN THE LIBRARY!! Is this because the mural is drawing attention to this great free resource in this poor, tiny town of few benefits other than mountain views and the smell of orange blossoms each spring?

Library Mural, Day Nine

You last saw the mural looking like this:

On the way to Ivanhoe on Friday morning, a clear, sunny, and cold morning, I pulled over for a few photos of oranges.

Is that center orange rotting on the tree??

The mountains were very visible from the library’s address. (Just keep your eyes above the waste.)

Intern and I had a brief discussion about what needed to be done next, I let him choose the task he preferred, and we dove right in. I took no photos until I had worked on the lettering and begun the auditorium.

The oranges still weren’t bright enough on the right side. Intern worked on those.

I began with the auditorium inset and then moved to the label. What a thrill to use all those bright colors! Of course, sunshine made a huge difference.

This is the first time I’ve seen sunshine on the wall. I kept taking photos because it was so interesting and fun (easily amused here.)

It felt as if I was treading water, and the more I did, the more I saw that needed to be done. After standing back and running through a mental list, I sorted the tasks into ones that Intern can do and ones that I need to do. He had left for the day, so I had to decide what I might be able to finish in the remaining hours. If sections are left partially finished, I have less of a sense of forward motion.

I chose to work on the mountains, finally deciding that Sawtooth needed to move south (to the right, both in real life and on the wall) and needed to be smaller.

too round-topped
better
smaller Sawtooth
Hard to tell with the spotty sun
Castle Rocks
Kaweah drainage more realistic

See? Castle Rocks!

See? The Kaweah drainage and repaired Alta Peak!

The daylight is lasting incrementally longer each week, and I was able to work until 4:30. The setting sun made for a different kind of lighting on the final photo. Check out the shadow cast by the fruitless mulberry, that is STILL holding onto some leaves.

Library Mural, Day Eight

In case you are wondering, all the previous days’ blog posts croaked with my website. So, here is the best I can do to recreate the most current day for you.

These orange trees have been “skirted”, which means pruned so nothing touches the ground.

I tried to fix the trees on the mural to appear this way. Tricky business. . .

Intern and I mixed a paint color for the inset of the Ivanhoe Elementary Auditorium.

My mom and her brother helped a little bit.

To work on the auditorium, I would have had to sit in the mud. Instead, I sat on the slimy log to work on the inset of Twin Buttes.

The mural looked like this at the end of day #8.

And thus we end the abbreviated version of Day Eight on the Ivanhoe Library Mural.

Now I’m going to either bang my head on the wall or try to learn to back up all my posts so this doesn’t continue to happen OR I’m going to look for an alternative to BlueHost.

Library Mural, Day Six

If you subscribe to my blog, you probably received an email last night about a new post. It is scheduled to publish on Friday, but I hit the wrong button. Then I immediately rescheduled it. So, you may have read Friday’s already (or you may have no idea at all what I am talking about here!)

Yesterday was a day of painting oranges. The challenge was to separate the trees from one another as they diminish toward the distance. It was a little boring to photograph each step, so let’s start with how it looked the day before yesterday.

Before

I got a little bogged down so moved to the label.

I could hear my internal coach saying, “HEY! Paint from back to front!” So I began working on the oranges on the right side. That side is noisier and colder (the wind comes around the corner) and darker with those peculiar fruitless mulberry trees that are still holding their leaves.

Thus we conclude Day Six. I won’t be back to paint until a week from tomorrow.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Five

From solid blue sky to wispy clouds.

Sky and mountains are the farthest away, and I think they are finished. Next closest is the orange grove. Oy vey, those leaves!

Very very cold day. The garbage truck went up and down the street about 8 times. There were roosters crowing. The little pickup with the giant stereo pulled in across the street and this time he shut off the “music”. I saw the normal 2 or 3 cats, and the handful of little dogs that trot around with purpose. The county supervisor stopped by and I also talked to a group of women who were meeting in the library, a man named Ruben, and a neighbor, who reassured me that the recent murder was a family dispute and took place on the bad side of town, not where we are.

Good to know.

Today I might paint oranges on the trees. Or dirt on the ground. The ground on the painting, not the muddy ground I stand on to paint.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Four

Intern returned, so we studied the wall together and discussed the next step. He put a base coat on Twin Buttes, and I worked on the mountains south of Alta Peak, since I got a few semi-helpful photos on Friday.

Together we mixed the color of the background of the packing label. Intern was SHOCKED that I painted the two oranges on the label before the background. Together we peeled back the masking tape, and he did a great job while I kept figuring out the mountains and a facsimile of Venice Hill. This is an odd group of hills just east of Ivanhoe, not exactly visible from town but definitely a landmark. I just made it up, because it looks different from every vantage point.

When I was satisfied with the distant mountains and fake Venice Hill, I began tinkering with the last inset, the auditorium of the Ivanhoe School back in the last century when I attended school there.

Intern was so cold that his teeth were chattering, so I told him that he had done enough for the day and sent him home. He was very helpful in many ways, and I also was able to teach him some helpful things about perspective and portraiture. Although he is a college student taking art classes, the instruction is insufficient. That’s how it was when I was in college too, and it is why I love helping people learn to draw.

The orange leaves have been troubling me. I know they will be delineated in the closer branches and trees, and be less clear when farther away. I can paint orange trees in oil and draw them in pencil, but using acrylic paint on a wall is just confounding me, handcuffing me so that I cannot figure out how to paint orange leaves. So I got a little help with them from a fellow muralist in the form of some texted photos and tried again. This time I just started with the farthest trees, hoping that I’ll figure out how to detail the closer ones.

After painting awhile, I stood back to see if the 2 halves of the mural make sense together. This caused me to jump over to the right side and rearrange the rows a bit, then begin texturing the distant trees.

After 6 hours of standing in the cold and the mud, I was ready to quit. So, I tried the combination on the trailer locks and was able to figure out how to open the thing. I carried my crates and stepladder to the opposite side of the library from the mural and put them in the ridiculously oversized trailer. Can you say “overkill”?

I have been asking for months to be given a key to the library so I can stash 2 ladders (now down to needing only one) and 3 crates of paint (now down to only 2), and to have access to water and to a facility. Instead of doing this apparently easy thing, they hauled in this giant trailer, parked it far from the mural, and I have no access to either water or a bathroom.

They’re from the government and they are here to help me.

I am able to make process in spite of this “help”.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Two

Brrr, BRRR, and BRRR! In driving the 35 miles down to the mural yesterday, I learned that the defroster in Momscar* is INSTANTLY effective, and I actually used the seat warmer, which seems like an ultra luxurious feature. Now I just need to figure out which button makes heat land on my feet.

Step by Step on Day Two

I took MomsCar so instead of just working off the tailgate of the good pick-em-up truck, I unloaded everything on the curb. (This is the curb of the driveway, not the actual road.)

Next, I had to satisfy my curiosity about that box on a pole.

No idea.

It is overwhelming to look at all that needs to be done, so I just eased into it. First, I removed the tape on the outside of the left inset.

Then I retaped it on the inside of the inset.

Because I paint from back to front and the sky is mostly finished (might add wispy clouds later), I mixed some “purple mountains majesty” color.

Starting on the left side, working my way south.

I had to keep standing back to see if it was believable. My goal was to make the mountains accurate, but I can’t seem to get a photo of how the range looks from Ivanhoe because of the overcast. My one good photo only goes from Alta Peak north. So, I just painted a first coat on the second half, getting Sawtooth in place. I will finish the mountains after I get some better photos.

Next, the upper edge of leaves. That was confusing because I am interpreting multiple photos, trying to make it believable. I alternated among 3 greens and used a tiny hint of orange. I’m not sure what the best approach is yet, but I have plenty of real estate in which to solve this problem.

I also placed a few of the closer oranges by circling the placement.

I moved to the upper right leaves, and then I was just too cold to continue. Here is the final shot of the day.

Then I filled in the channel left unpainted by the masking tape around the left inset.

The leaves didn’t look right to me, so on the way home I took a few photos.

*Mom gave me her car, and after a few months of adjusting to the fanciness of a 4-door, 6 cylinder, automatic, I still think of it as her car. Thus, the current name of Momscar.

I have some other obligations and work responsibilities so won’t be back on the wall until Friday.

Calendar available here, $25 includes postage (and I’ll eat the sales tax if you are in California.)