Wildflowers as Tiny Colored Dots

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Wildflowers drive my hiking choices, and ever since publishing Mineral King Wildflowers (almost sold out), I look for opportunities to put them in my oil paintings. Because I paint small, they end up as tiny dots. 

Doesn’t matter, because those tiny colored dots are magical enhancements of scenes that would otherwise be primarily green, gray and brown.

Remember this oil painting? It sold very quickly due to those tiny colored dots.

So, of course I painted it again. Here is the sequence.

Once it is dry enough to scan, I will show you a non-shiny version with colors that are closer to the real painting.

Chop-chop and Doing What I Want

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Here is another new Mineral King oil painting of an old subject, the Honeymoon Cabin, which is a museum for the Mineral King Preservation Society. It was in a state of rough first layer for a few weeks, and then suddenly July happened, which is when sales pick up at the Silver City Store.

Chop-chop, Central California artist!

8×10″, $125 (+sales tax), probably underpriced, quick, get it before I raise my prices.

I looked again at this painting of Sawtooth, which has been hanging for awhile as I mulled it over before putting it on the scanner. 

While flipping through my photos, I ran across one with my favorite yellow wildflower, Bigelow Sneezeweed (terrible name for a delightful bloom). I said to myself, “Self”, I said, “Why not?”

If this 6×18″ oil painting with its radical addition of yellow flowers doesn’t sell, I can always paint them out. I am 62 years old, self-employed, experienced in all subjects Mineral King, and I get to do what I want to my paintings.

Any questions?

Making Two Paintings Better

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.The other day I just sat in front of these two Mineral King oil paintings with Tucker shedding, purring, and slobbering on my lap. While holding my favorite cat (sorry Pippin and Jackson, but I have known your uncle a year longer than I have known you), I studied the paintings carefully, wondering how I could make them better.

The answer usually lies in better contrast, and shaggier edges. Not that shaggy edges are always the answer, but in this case a few edges were a bit smoother than real life.

Never mind. Just look now and see if they look better to you (bearing in mind that they are now too wet to scan and that they always look better in person).

Each of these paintings is 8×8″, and I spent way more time on them than justified by the $100 (+tax) sales price each.

It is probably time to raise my prices. That is hard to do, because people are just trying to keep food on the table and gas in the car, and art is not a necessity. (It is for me, but I think you understand my point.)

Seeking Calm at the Easels

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Sometimes life is hard. Oftentimes life is hard. Even if my own life is wonderful (and it is), life around is less than wonderful. Friends are suffering, the world seems to be on fire. I could list the worrisome items, but you probably have a similar list.

So, I will simply continue to seek calm at the easels.

I hope that seeing the progression of this Mineral King oil painting brings a bit of calm to your world.

Refocusing on Real Art

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

My real art is oil painting and pencil drawing. Road signs, deer cages, book safes are all just for fun. Useful fun, but fun, particularly because I listened to an audio book while working on them: Once Upon a Wardrobe, by Patti Callahan.

Then, I got serious and refocused on my real art.

I took this one all the way to the end.

Then I painted all the skies.

Next, I finished this one. Maybe. Now that I see it here, it is a bit too monochromatic for my tastes. (That means single colored . . . I wonder if wildflowers would look weird in the lower section. Certainly not believable, but maybe attractive.)

Finally, I finished another Sawtooth just before sliding into Idiotland.

Three down (maybe), five to go.

Mineral King oil paintings are the best sellers in the summer. The trick is to guess how many of which subjects and what sizes. 

I wonder if I could make a useful crystal ball??

 

Are You Really Painting Sawtooth Again?

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yeppers, another Sawtooth oil painting. Sawtooth is visible from the flatlands of Visalia on a clear day and is the signature peak of Mineral King. It has recently become the most popular of the Mineral King subjects that I paint, and a few weeks ago, someone commissioned another version of the “Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint” view. This is number 8, and the first one in the ratio of 1:3 (6×18″, vertical).

As usual, I started with a scribbly base, and then put in the sky, working my way closer and closer to the front.

Suddenly, I was confused on all those mountain ridges, so I dropped into the stream to pick apart the rocks. I photographed the stream in order to see the rock formations at higher water, before the seasonal growth obstructed my vision. I don’t understand water flow well enough to convincingly make this up.

This represents an afternoon of work, trying to perfect the detail on the first pass, knowing full well that I will need to make corrections as the other parts get completed. And then those “other parts” will need to be corrected.

It would be satisfying to spend as much time on every painting as I am on this one. But paintings don’t require the level of detail that pencil drawings do, it isn’t cost effective, and for the most part, my customers don’t even recognize that level of intense detail. (Not everyone is as near-sighted as I am, albeit it with strong cheater-readers these days.)

Links to other posts about painting Sawtooth:

  1. Department of Redundancy Dept.
  2. Lots of Sawtooths (Sawteeth? Nah)
  3. Almost finished with the Sawtooth paintings
  4. You just won’t believe this one
  5. Back to Sawtooth

Maybe, Maybe Not

When I look at a finished painting in person, it seems truly finished. This painting signifies the best of Tulare County to me, and I am not always objective.

However, when I look at a photograph of the painting on my screen, sometimes things appear that weren’t all that noticeable in person. 

Here is a progression of the untitled painting that is finished, or maybe not.

Tuesday morning overview.

Tuesday morning lower right corner, unfinished.

Wednesday morning lower right corner, finished (but in shade so hard to tell what is what).

May I be finished now? Better put it in the sunshine for a truer color photo.

Now may I sign it, and then paint the edges? 

Maybe, maybe not. Better let it mull a bit, study, scrutinize, put on my truth glasses (just a figure of speech) and try to be objective.

Or maybe I should show the customers and see if they think I am finished.

Maybe, maybe not. 

What is this mess?

When I paint commissions, I go through stages something like this:

  1. Not sure, but I will try
  2. Piece of cake
  3. What is this mess?
  4. What have I gotten myself into?
  5. I’ve got this.
  6. What is this mess?
  7. Who told me I could paint?
  8. Ooh, I love to draw with my paintbrush!
  9. What is this mess?
  10. Oh my goodness, I think I am going to finish soon!
  11. What is this mess?
  12. Make a harshly honest list and fix those things.
  13. Can’t find another thing to fix, better sign it and get it out of my face before I mess it up.

This was probably about step 8.

Then I hit step 9.

I painted for a morning, repairing all sorts of messes, drawing with my paintbrush. Can you see the improvements?

 

Now it might be at step #10.

It looks wrong in this light. But you can see that only a small portion in the lower right hand corner remains untouched. I might hit a couple more “What is this mess” stages. I went a little nutso trying to get the highway better, narrowing the driveway at the bottom, detailing the rows of citrus trees more, adding in a few more buildings and tightening up the ones that were there, and planting a couple of new groves. I did not darken the blue mountains but actually lightened them. However, this is not apparent in the poor light of early afternoon photography.

Then I had to quit because my friends were waiting for me to come over and make some more stepping stones.

More remains, but the fat lady will be warming up her vocal cords soon.

Dragging it Out

This commissioned oil painting is highly detailed, in spite of the fact that it is a landscape. People who see it want to know where it is, where I was when I got my photos, what are they seeing. 

It is impossible to put in every single grove, building, road, dirt road, and random tree. I enlarge the photo on my laptop to an astronomical size in order to see what the tiny spots are, decide the main landmarks that would be helpful to the viewer, try to get them in the right place, and then use my tiniest paintbrushes to indicate them.

Can you see the added detail?

Every time I work on this painting, I have to change things that I thought were right. 

I am not worried. There is still time to finish and to finish well, believably, and with confidence that this will be my best work.

But maybe I should put more hours into this custom oil painting and stop making stepping stones.

Two Commissions, Continued

This is the best photograph I was able to get of the Fiftieth Bouquet. (It just occurred to me that I may not have actually titled the painting!) I was able to eliminate the shiny spots but cropped the left side a bit. One of the things that is always pounded in all art advice workshops, classes, books, and websites is to hire a professional photographer for one’s work.

Fall down laughing.

That might work for people who just complete one painting a month and then sell it for $5000 or $50,000, but that is not the way things work for this Central California artist. So, I bumble along with my PHD* camera. (My more expensive cameras have broken so I no longer waste money on them.)

I also inched along a bit more on my favorite subject.

Can’t wait to get back to this one, but then I will finish and have to say goodbye to it.

Life is a series of decisions, choices and consequences.

*Press Here Dummy