The Business of Art: Notecards

“Margaret’s Poinsettia, package of 4 cards and envelopes, 4.6×7.2”, $20. Inside message: Wishing you Christmas joy and blessings in the new year!

Through the years I have designed, printed and sold hundreds, nay, THOUSANDS of little cards. “Notecards”, as I refer to them, are perfect to say “thank you”, “hi”, “just one more thing”, “I appreciate you”, or even “I’m sorry”. If you write real big, you can get by with just one sentence.

“Sun Kissed”, pencil and colored pencil drawing, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, blank inside, $10

Designs come and go; sometimes I redraw something and then get rid of the older version. Other times, it seems as if a design has run its course and needs to be retired. Sometimes I have too much inventory, so I let a design run out for awhile. And sometimes a design that really grabs me just doesn’t speak to the buying public.

“Oak Grove Bridge #28″, oil painting, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2”, blank inside, $10

I used to sell my cards in many stores around the county. Most of those stores are now closed. Even if the stores were still around, my costs are so high that if I sell them at a wholesale price to a retail store, there is zero profit for me. This means that I am working for free. That’s just dumb business.

Sawtooth and wildflowers, pencil and colored pencil drawing, package of 4 cards and envelopes, blank inside, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, $10

Nowadays I sell the cards here on my website, occasionally when I do a bazaar or if I am having an art showing or exhibit (what’s the diff? I dunno), and on consignment at a very few places. “Consignment” means that they pay me after the cards sell, which means a lot of checking in, rewriting lists to keep current on supplies, making bills, sending the bills, paying attention to what has sold and what needs to be restocked.

Farewell Gap in Mineral King, pencil drawing, package of 4 cards and envelopes, blank inside, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, $10

It’s all part of the business of art, which involves many decisions. Most of those decisions would be better if I had a crystal ball. Lacking that, I look at the history of sales, look at the current economy, look at the venue and think about the customers. If consignment, I look at the store’s record of payment, if the cards are getting shopworn and need to be repackaged, or if the store hasn’t been displaying the cards in a manner that the customers can see them.

“Sawtooth”, oil painting, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, blank inside, $10

The business of art is a complex and delicate blend of science, art, and guesswork.

SOLD (Took awhile. . .)

For several months, I had no work. Instead of worrying about it, I enjoyed guilt-free time at the cabin. Well, guilt-free except for the fact that the road was closed, and other people couldn’t enjoy Mineral King this past summer. Life is a series of good things and not-so-good things; we do our best with what we have been given. Or I do. Most of the time. I don’t know what you do. Maybe you just complain. . .

My point, and I do have one, is to show you that I did have a few sales. One must pay closer attention when times are a little hard, because the negatives are often much louder than the positives. Here are my positives from that slow period plus a couple of months beyond.

I am guessing on the titles and some of the sizes. Closies count. . .

Pencil, 6×9″, a commmission drawing
Pencil, 11×14″, a commmission drawing
Oranges, 5×7″, oil on panel
North Fork, 10×10″, oil on canvas
Navel, 6×6″, oil on canvas
Sawtooth, 8×8″, oil on canvas
Unspiced, oil on canvas, 6×12″
Alta and Moro After a Storm, 6×18″, oil on canvas
Craig’s View, 6×6″, oil on canvas, a commission painting
Orange Pair, oil on panel, 5×7″
Big & Tall, oil, 6×12″
This is acrylic on a 1’x3′ panel.

Orange Oil Paintings, WHAT SHALL WE CALL THEM?

Liking this one, because it is oranges and a cobalt blue bowl
The bowl is more detailed here. If I hold it on a tilt, the wet shine doesn’t show.
Untilted, with a shine from being wet and more detail on the left-out orange.
The oranges in the bowl are improved here.
And I think it is finished, but of course it is shiny and wet. I’ll sign it after it is dry, then scan it. BUT WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT??
This is close to finished, but lacking contrast.
Much better, but WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT??

Obviously, I could use a little help with titles here.

“Oranges in a Blue Bowl” is too obvious; maybe I can think of a title that has to do with the fact that orange and blue are complementary colors. This means they are opposite one another on the color wheel—”complementary”, not “complimentary” such as “Oh my goodness, you are looking gorgeous today!”

Normally we think of ducks being in a row (WHY??), but I could call this “Citrus in a Row”. Nope, too obvious. “Citrus Variety” is boring.

Any ideas for me??

Painting my Obsession

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I thought this painting was finished and was about to scan it when I realized it was missing something important.

Snow covered mountains in the distance! White is the slowest color to dry, so it will be a week or two before this one is ready to scan.

This one needs definition in the distant groves and detail in the foreground branches. 

I am just making stuff up now. As long as it is believable, it’ll do.

This will take awhile, lots of painting sessions to try this, that, and something else.

Saturday night, remember to spring your clocks forward because Daylight Saving Time begins. It isn’t saving any daylight, merely shoving it an hour later so that mornings are dark again. There is talk of making it permanent, but those who think that is a good idea aren’t thinking ahead to waiting until 8 a.m. to see any daylight in the fall and winter months. I say leave the time right where it belongs and quit jerking us around.

So there.



A Little More Paint

In my time of waiting to begin those murals, I have grown accustomed to lots of free time. This includes errands, taking walks, baking bread, helping friends (so many friends in a tough spot all at the same time), reading, knitting, yardening, and just working a little bit every day, but only a little bit.

One day I started on this 10×20″ painting that shows the mountains from Sawtooth on the left to Homer’s Nose on the right. I condensed the distance and faked some mountains, probably just left out others. (My excuses: the photo was blurry and there were clouds; besides, almost no one cares.)

Sky first (no photo of that because my camera battery needed a recharge), mountains second, foothills third.

Fourth, start on the distant groves.

Fifth, keep working down to the lower/closer groves.

Oops, gotta go! Errands: library book available, delivering the very last calendar to the friend who was in a convalescent hospital with a thieving front desk, taking bread to a couple of friends. (When life is hard for people, bake and deliver bread; it sort of helps.)

Good thing there are no pressing deadlines right now. Helped a friend find songs and burn a CD for her husband’s memorial service (lots of friends with troubles. . . sigh.)

In my next pass over this canvas, I will add detail to the mountains, foothills, distant trees, orange trees, etc. I hope my friends get breaks from these awful things soon. It is a good thing to have the time and resources to help where and when I can.

Whatcha doing, Central California Artist?

Messy beginnings

All my paintings begin this way. It no longer causes me distress, that continual uncertainty about my skills. With approximately 1300 paintings (not counting murals) completed since 2006 and most of those sold, I am learning to just flow with the mess. 

Planning

With the Holiday Bazaar happening soon (Saturday, November 19, Three Rivers Veterans Memorial Building, 9-4), I needed to take inventory and plan. I counted up the number of available paintings by subject, tallied them by size, and came up with a plan. 

Three Rivers subjects are in the shortest supply. 8×10 and similar sizes are the most likely to sell at a one day bazaar here in town. So, two 8×10″s, one 8×8″, and a 6×18″. (Priced at $125, $100, and $165)

Chop chop and hubba hubba

I went quickly through my photos, going on “gut instinct” rather than evaluating to the same degree that I evaluated sizes and subjects, and without hesitating, assigned inventory numbers and titles, wired the backs for hanging, and started painting.

Cover that canvas

Take a break for drying

These will turn out just fine. Most paintings do. If not, I will just add more layers or turn them into Sequoia tree oil paintings. It’s just the business of art.

Still Painting Mineral King in the Heat

For those of you who subscribe and read the blog post on your phone: if you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog.

Again, I say that painting elevation while down in the heat has no benefits, other than in one’s imagination. Sawtooth, visible from Mineral King in this painting, is 12,343′ in elevation; Three Rivers (where I live) is 1000′. They say (“they”? who is this?) that the temperature drops 3 degrees for every 1000′ gained in elevation. You can do the math if you’d like; I’m too overheated.

This isn’t quite finished. When it is dry, I will do some nitpicking, careful evaluating, and then will make corrections and plant wildflowers. Of course I will plant wildflowers—do not doubt me on this! 

P.S. The color looks washed out here – does heat affect photography too??

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
  6. Really Painting Sawtooth Again

Familiarity Breeds Comfort

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.

“Familiarity breeds contempt” in some cases; in the context of my oil painting endeavors, familiarity breeds comfort. “Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint #8” is signed, sealed, and delivered, another commissioned oil painting in the archives.

This means I can move into another comforting subject, one that I love to paint, although this one has its own challenges. This oil painting commission came with much freedom. The customer didn’t care what orchard as long as it is oranges, wasn’t concerned about the foothills, and after much conversation (“Really, you must care about something specific here!”), he decided that Sawtooth and Homer’s Nose made the most sense for the visible peaks. His focus is the children, and he provided good photos.

If I were a loosey-goosey painter, this would be close to finished. Alas, I am a painter who loves detail and when this dries, I will begin drawing with my paintbrushes on this Tulare County classic view.

 

Oh, Those Red Carnations

The carnations were last seen at this stage. The coaster, vase with stems, bows, vase-base, roses, and even the curly willow weren’t up to the level that Mr. and Mrs. Fifty Years deserve.

What’s a Central California artist to do?

Well, just keep licking the canvas, of course. (Don’t get your knickers in a twist–it is only a figure of speech.)

When an item is complicated with subtle angles that matter, I turn it upside down and copy exactly what I see. Okay, not EXACTLY, but as close as I am able on the angles and proportions that matter. The coaster beneath the vase is a real bugger-bear, to quote my friend Ft. Worth Jim. (who pronounces his name “Jee-im” as if it has 2 syllables). 

(Hi Gnat!)

Where was I?

The upside down coaster, while looking at the upside down photo on the laptop screen.

There are many details to it, details that can be ignored because it is not the reason for the painting.

The roses are Very Important to the painting. Carnations have their own happy prettiness, but roses are pure elegance.

Can I be finished now?

Nope. Here is some self-talk: Study the photo of the painting, evaluate the things that matter, speculate on what could be better, touch up those little items, strengthen the contrast, soften the irrelevant parts, and don’t sign it until you have taken it to the nth degree.

Yes, I know, the painting has come a very long distance from its humble beginning of red blobs, seen here. But the fat lady has not sung. (Someone bring her another cookie, please.)

 

Back to Sawtooth

Remember all those oil paintings of Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint? Sunnypoint was a Forest Service campground in Mineral King closed in the 1970s (or was it the 1960s? I wasn’t there then.)

The view that has been so popular is a bit made up. When you are standing where I have stood to take so many photos, year after year, of the same scene, your eyes tell you that the barest tip of Sawtooth shows. When you leave the exact spot, you remember it as a place where Sawtooth, Black Wolf Falls, the stream, and wildflowers are all coexisting in beautiful harmony.

It is my job to gather up all those pieces of reality and combine them into a believable fantasy for you. This beautiful fantasy, which matches up with peoples’ memories, has brought me back to the easel once again.

After a week of messing around, taking walks, editing 2 books, and staying away from the painting workshop, I finally went back to work.

The work that remains after this dries:

  1. Add the wildflowers
  2. Fix whatever is wrong that I have noticed during the drying process
  3. Sign
  4. Let dry again
  5. Scan
  6. Varnish
  7. DELIVER!

There is more to the story of multiple iterations of the Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint paintings. Mañana. . .