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.

Not Too Much

And that is the answer to “Hey Central California Artist, what are you working on these days?”

The side view of my studio isn’t nearly as cute as the front view.

Odd Job

My friend G explained that he just needs an outline of what might pass for the tops of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, stretched across a single 12 foot panel. Jimmy delivered four for some unknown reason.

First, we flipped the panel around so that the rustiest part was showing. While G was explaining, I got out some chalk and started drawing. G had a few comments, and I finished drawing before he finished talking. Easy peasy.

I suggested that he have Jimmy cut along my line with his plasma cutter, then see how it looks in place and see if his customer is happy. If not, either cut a bit more, or have me draw it again on another panel.

After G left, I went spelunking in my flat files. (That’s how I found the colored pencil drawing of my sister’s neighbor’s car.)

Old Job

I found this project, from 2000 when I was learning colored pencil and portraiture at the same time. It wasn’t a success. The girl on the right was actually drawn using a different photo, and neither one looked quite like herself.

I thought about what I would tell me drawing students: turn it upside down, study every shape and evaluate EXACTLY how it looks. After an hour or two, I decided that it was good enough.

The color is dreadful. It wasn’t worth fetching the laptop and going through all the steps to scan. So I photographed it one more time and sent it to the girls’ mom. She was my first friend in Three Rivers and has encouraged and pushed me to try hard things for 27 years!

No difference in the photography. I might end up scanning it. Prolly give it to one of the girls. The one on the right still lives in town and I believe she is 35 years old now.

Holy guacamole.

P.S. The mom didn’t respond to my text and I no longer pretend that I can do portraiture or colored pencil well.

Art from Hume Lake

The first time I drew a Hume Lake cabin, it was for my friend’s parents. Her mom commissioned a pencil drawing.

Wait, not true. The first time I drew a Hume Lake cabin, it was the boys staff cabin across the street from the girls staff cabin, in 1978. It was a present for my roommate, and I didn’t save a picture of the drawing.

Here is my friend’s cabin the first time I drew it (1995), and again after my friend allowed me to improve it (2017).

A few things have changed over the years, but none significantly alter the look. (Two trees in the foreground are history and now the room is metal.)

My friend’s cousins have become my friends too, and one year we were there for a birthday party for three of the cousins. I did three tiny paintings for birthday gifts.

My friend commissioned me to paint some ornaments for some of her cousins. They look awful here—wet, shiny, perhaps even incomplete.

One of the cousins sent me this photo the next year.

My most recent iteration of Hume Lake is in pencil, used in the 2026 calendar. This is the view from the footbridge over Ten Mile Creek, looking toward the Forest Service beach called Sandy Cove. (It doesn’t show—it’s behind the trees on the right.)

I have so many beautiful photos of the lake. . . I could paint it. Maybe I will someday. I know, “someday is not a day”, and “sometime is not on the schedule.”

Four Reasons that Selling Art Makes Me Happy

  • It gives me confidence to continue.
  • It clears out inventory to make room for new art.
  • It affirms that I am not wasting my life making things that no one needs or wants.
  • It provides an income, because life costs money.

Now let’s look at the pieces that have sold in the last several months, at Kaweah Arts, Stem & Stone, Exeter’s Mural Gallery, the Silver City Store, and through my website and people I know.

Three disclaimers:

  • Had I owned the new scanner when many of these were completed, they would look better here on your screen.
  • All paintings look better in person.
  • You have seen some of these already, since I often show you them in progress.

Thank you for sharing in my happiness, and remember:

USING PENCILS, OIL PAINT, AND MURALS, I MAKE ART YOU CAN UNDERSTAND, OF PLACES AND THINGS YOU LOVE, FOR PRICES THAT WON’T SCARE YOU.

P.S. Excuse me for shouting. Sometimes I get a little over-excited.

Honesty, Diplomacy, and Wisdom

I have a wise friend who is both diplomatic and honest. She told me that a few of my paintings didn’t reflect my usual care, or perhaps she said they weren’t up to my usual standards— “lacking in detail and clarity”. (There were a couple of paragraphs so I’m summarizing here.)

I blamed the old scanner, but then decided to retouch the paintings after studying them in person. I can always add more detail to a painting! The difficulty is in knowing when to stop. Most painters say that they don’t stop soon enough; I say most painters need to keep going.

Sawtooth #68

Here are the old scanner and new scanner versions, both before retouching.

The scan was poor, and the painting could use more detail. Some people paint blurry, but I’m not in that club. Not on purpose, anyway.

Here is the do-over and the scan on the new scanner. Still doesn’t look as good as it does in person. You’ll have to trust me on this.

Maybe it’s more evident if I put old and new side-by-side.

The color and detail still aren’t accurate, but it is better.

Sawtooth #69

It was definitely time to replace the old scanner.

Three progress photos for you.

Let’s do a side-by-side before-and-after of this one. And again, the color isn’t coming through very well, so trust on your part is required here.

Thank you, my honest, diplomatic, and wise friend!

Walking Down the Mineral King Road and Up the Nature Trail

Gird your loins—this is a long post.

With my new-to-me iPhone 14 in hand, I walked down the Mineral King Road to Cold Springs Campground (STILL CLOSED—CALL YOUR CONGRESSMAN OR SOMETHING!) and back up the Nature Trail. This is about 2-1/2 miles total.

Let’s look at the flowers I found along the road. I actually did this route on two consecutive days and was very surprised by how many flowers vanished and new ones appeared in just 24 hours.

From left to right: mariposa lily—a ruffled variety I’ve never seen before; angelica (not to be confused with cow parsnip because angelica has lacy leaves); buckthorn

This view at the top of Endurance Grade always grabs me. Endurance Hill. Coral Hill. Whatevs. It photographs much better with the phone than it ever did with the camera, as much as it pains me to admit.

Most people prefer the view of Sawtooth. Sawtooth isn’t my favorite, but I paint it over and over because most people like it—they haven’t been medivacked off it*.

I love penstemon, particularly this variety. The color just slays me. Maybe I should learn the actual variety name.

A little past the ranger station, we cross the neglected bridge into the closed (WHY?) Cold Springs Campground. (It’s kind of fun to flick off the flaking paint. No, I am NOT telling you to do that! Why would I tell you to do that? Do you think I’m immature or something?)

Here are some yellow flowers on the other side of the bridge: seepspring monkey flower and false lily of the valley.

At the upper end of the closed (WHY?) Cold Springs campground is where the trail begins. It used to have lots of interesting and helpful signs along the trail. The Park removed them all with the plan of upgrading them, but it has been about 10 years so I don’t think it is a priority. (The Park will say, “Hiring freezes! Understaffed!” to which I have many opinions which I will keep to myself in order to keep the tone of my blog elevated.)

At least the beginning of the trail has a nice sign.

This is a Jeffrey pine, which used to have a sign explaining how to tell the difference between Jeffrey and Ponderosa pines and inviting you to sniff the tree, because Jeffreys smell a tad like vanilla.

Aspens are thick along the trail.

Can you see the trail? It’s definitely overgrown. Last week we saw a trail crew guy and I asked if I could prune it for them. He actually said, “If you want to!”

Blog Reader and Top Commenter Sharon calls this “Iron Falls”.

I finally remembered to put a dime in my pocket so that you can see the scale of wildflowers. I didn’t take into account how: A. difficult it is to photograph the 2 side-by-side with only 2 hands; B. to keep my hideous thumbnail out of the photo (yea for cropping); C. to make the phone focus on the blossom instead of the leaves; D. to actually see the screen. Maybe you are supposed to tap the bloom on the screen, but already being shorthanded, this is beyond my capability.

The little footbridge got rebuilt last summer, or maybe the one before. It all runs together.

More Sawtooth

And just in case you are into Sawtooth (Hi, Kathy Wolfe!), here it is one more time, peeking around the ridge, before the phone battery died**.

OIL PAINTINGS OF SAWTOOTH

WAIT! THIS IS A BUSINESS WEBSITE! Here are some oil paintings of Sawtooth available this summer at the Silver City Store (unless they have sold already.)

Sawtooth #67, 8×10”, oil on wrapped canvas, $165
Sawtooth # 68, 6×6”, oil on wrapped canvas, $75
Sawtooth #69, 8×8”, oil on wrapped canvas, $145

*It was 50 years last week so you’d think I’d be over it. I am, but it still isn’t my favorite. So there.

**This is the biggest disadvantage of using a phone instead of a camera. I also bought a charger, but it only works when it feels like it. The frustrations of tech are endless.

Hey Jeff, Am I Finished With Your Garden Painting?

I don’t think Jeff reads my blog. Marketing and sales people would tell me that I don’t push it hard enough, that I should be linking posts to my Instagram, LinkedIn, and Facebook accounts. That would be difficult, since I don’t participate in any of those. This may be why I only have tens of readers; the good news is that I know most of you IN REAL LIFE! Thank you for being here.

But I digress.

Jeff’s Garden, a commissioned oil painting, might be finished. After spending the bulk of another workday on the painting, trying to beat a predicted heat wave (the swamp cooler in the painting workshop can only do so much), I sent the last photo to Jeff to ask if it is finished.

If he says yes, then I’ll sign it, paint the edges, let it dry (a quick process in the heat), varnish it, and then begin figuring out the logistics of getting it to him. His zip code appears to be a Northern California town, so it may get shipped. However, I have another trick up my sleeve that might work for delivering it; more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

Here we go with the (hopefully) final in-progress photos. You can see that I began on the poppies, working my way from left to right. Then I added sweet peas to the upper right, and finally, detailed the bench on the left with a hint of a plaque and a branding iron sitting atop.

HE SAID YES, IT IS FINISHED!

Ahem. Excuse me for shouting. The design had me baffled for awhile, and I thought this would be really difficult. So, I stepped out of my mental blocks and chaos and coached myself the way I would do for a drawing student. It worked, and this was really quite enjoyable.

THANK YOU, JEFF THE GARDENER!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GNAT!

Drawing Jeff’s Garden With a Paintbrush

I thought this would be very difficult and take “forever”. Instead, I am thoroughly enjoying the process because now that the sizes and locations and base coat are down, I can simply begin drawing with my paintbrush.

Step by Step by Step. . .or Way Leads on to Way

Let’s just have a series of photos without excessive jibber-jabber.

Yes, I painted the hummingbird with both the canvas and the photo upsidedown.

Remaining Details

The bench (with a branding iron atop and the hint of a plaque), poppies, the foliage on the upper right, and a few of the transitional areas between the different images need to be finished. Oh, and the edges. This will all be easier when all of this day’s work has dried. Then it will need to just rest while I decide if I can make it better.

Final Steps

Jeff will need to see his garden in oil paint before I declare it finished. It will be signed, photographed, varnished, and then delivered.

Planting an Oil Garden

What’s an “oil garden”?

Glad you asked!

Remember this colored pencil sketch for a commissioned oil painting of someone’s garden? (Let’s call him Jeff, because that is his name.)

Jeff approved of the design for his painting and chose 12×24” for the canvas size. Having realized the benefits of starting with a sketch on an earlier commissioned oil painting,I began a larger sketch in pencil on the canvas.

Then, with paint thinned not quite to dripping, I started filling in all the white, figuring out shapes and sizes of the various items.

That’ll do. I tried to begin some detailing, but it was too wet.

Thinking back to the last oil commission of the blueberry/avocado farm, I remember being very unsure of my abilities and nervous about a successful outcome. As is always the case, it was needless to fret. The success (happy customer) has given me confidence on this one and I am proceeding with an eagerness to get to the details.

Trail Guy has said to me for years, “Success leads to success”. Mike Rowe quotes Robert Frost thus: “Way leads on to way.”

I say “Let’s git ‘er dun!”

Business in the Mountains

The Silver City Store sold two Mineral King oil paintings on opening weekend; a few days later they sold a sequoia tree painted on a wood panel.

Luckily for a future customer, I had one more ready to go. So, on the way up the hill last week, we stopped by to deliver it. While there, I took a few more interior photos. The store is good to me*, and I happily advertise for them.

This year I have brought a few pencil reproduction prints of appropriate subjects. It’s been awhile since those were on public view.
Sawtooth on the sawblade is not for sale.
I designed this logo several decades ago and they are still using it. One of the original mugs (doesn’t say “Mountain Resort”) is on my drawing table with colored pencils in it.
Terrible light, but I wanted to show you the no-longer-functional gas pump and the snow outside.

There was quite a bit of snow in Mineral King when we arrived. Tomorrow’s post will be about that, accelerated to Thursday, because there are too many photos of Mineral King to just confine the topic to Friday’s post.

*Not the actual store, but you know what I mean.