Instruct me, Please

When working on custom art, which involves combining multiple photos and verbal or written instructions, there must be much communication.

My customers for the Texas drawing said to lower the bluebonnets to keep them inside the fence, since if they are outside the fencing, the cattle eat them.

I keep accidentally thinking of the bluebonnets as lupine, and I made them inside the fence, outside the fence, and too tall, because I didn’t know how to fill the space. My answer to most empty space questions is wildflowers.*

In response to their helpful information about those voracious cattle, I lowered the lupine bluebonnets and added some fencing wire.

Then I photographed each corner and emailed the customers with this request: Instruct me, please!

Colored pencil doesn’t erase (some does, but not well), so until I learn what the fencing actually looks like in real life, this drawing will have to wait.

*Remember this?

More From the Drawing Table

When we last looked at this challenging pencil commission of a Texas scene, it looked like this.

When I don’t know where to begin, I just pick something that is somewhat concrete, something with a photo to follow, rather than work on the things I have to make up. So, distant trees, grass, and tractor. Yeppers, I can draw those.

Next, the Texas state flag in color. This was fun. Luckily, I was somewhat obsessed by that flag while in Texas last year so I had several photos. I had to flip the photo horizontally so that it flies into the scene rather than the more conventional left-to-right orientation.

Next, I tackled the close fence and gate, and then looked up Texas bluebonnets online. (I was in Texas too late for the bluebonnets; guess I’ll have to go in April next time.)

Because this is a bit of a made up subject in the drawing, I took it only this far, outlining them for the customers to approve or make suggestions. It’s too risky to put the color in until I know the size and placements are what the customers like. In commissioned pieces, I am simply a hired pencil.

While waiting to hear back, I put in the sky, tightened up edges, lightened some parts, and darkened others. You can see that I left the lower right corner empty. If the left corner is approved, I’ll be able to somewhat duplicate the sizes on the right side.

This last drawing is scanned. . . the paper is a little too big for my scanner, but I might be able to make it work if the customers want to reproduce it as cards or prints. (I hope they don’t, but I am willing. It will mean a lot of time messing with the scanner and Photoshop Junior.)

P.S. Just heard from the customers, asking that the deer be erased, which I am more than happy to do. They also instructed me about the flowers, which we’ll discuss tomorrow.

Back at the Drawing Table

I told you that I have a very challenging drawing commission. Well yippee skippee, I finally had a pair of minutes to concentrate on the project. It is almost more of a design problem than an is-this-even-possible problem, like those tiny faces back in the winter. (Visible as Item #10 on Ten New Things Learned in February)

This is one of several many photos provided by the customers.

Nothing to do but just pull out some pencils, a sheet of 14×17 “ paper, and see if I can lay out the basics. (Crying or pulling out my hair would have been unhelpful.)

This commission would not be possible without the extensive communication with the customers. I am combining about a dozen photos, adding and moving all sorts of things, figuring out sizes and placements that are believable and pleasing and make sense to the customers.

I moved from my drafting table to the desk behind me because the morning light coming in the window made it impossible to see my laptop screen. Yeppers, this techno-resister now draws more from her screen than from paper photos. (I even drive an automatic car now, but still prefer manual and do NOT own a microwave, so there.)

In figuring out how to make sense of the tractor size and placement, I outlined it on tracing paper and then started moving it around the drawing to see where the size and placement made the most sense.

A friend used to visit me regularly in my studio and ask, “How in the world do you do that?” My answer was usually, “One quarter inch at a time.” This drawing might be more like an eighth inch at a time.

Yep. Those are Wilsonia books on the desk. Want one?

Because all my art was in Tulare while I was working on this commission, I was able to stick it on the wall for taking photos to send to the customers with each new batch of questions.

The gate in the foreground looked too small so I did the tissue thing, making it bigger, and then sending it to the customers for their approval. I also asked about the flags because they had asked for the American flag on top and the Texas flag below. While in Texas last year, I learned that Texas is the only state that flies its flag at the same height as the American flag because they used to be a sovereign nation. Texans are very proud of their state, and I posted about how that lone star appears in all sorts of unexpected places.

The bigger gate was better (because this is Texas? Nope, because it looked correct). And the American flag got ditched for just the lone star flag, now flapping into the scene.

This was the result of a long uninterrupted (HALLELUJAH!) day at the drawing table.

Who knows when I’ll have another day like this? Looking forward to it. . . there are trees, a tractor, grass, a flag, and Texas bluebonnets waiting for my attention, but these lovely customers are not pressuring me at all. And after drawing for about 8 hours straight, (okay, a couple of breaks, and a lot of staring and questioning), it was time to stop before I got careless and did something stupid. (You are shocked?? Sorry to disappoint you, but I do stupid things sometimes.)

Drawing Workshop

Upcoming!

Besides loving to draw, it makes me happy to help other people learn to draw. A friend named Anne Brown has been asking me for many years to give a workshop up here, and since she offered to host it and for whatever reason I now have some time, (OH, because I’m not preparing for a solo show since I still have paintings from the last solo show, phooey but yea), we scheduled this drawing workshop.

Because I Felt Like Drawing

In 1990, I drew the Exeter Woman’s Club. (Yes, that is the correct name—I just work here.) It was part of a set of notecards called Tulare County Landmarks. No one can find the original drawing. All I have is this scan of a notecard with a hole punched in the corner.

The club asked to use the drawing, and had an old scan or some other format, not really up to my standards. But I didn’t mind and gave my permission. (It is rare that people know the copyright law which is that the artist holds the copyright, so I was impressed and thankful that they asked.)

They are celebrating a big anniversary (100 years?) and plan to publish a cookbook. The president of the club and I are longtime friends, and we began discussing the cover of the cookbook. I couldn’t stand the idea of a shoddy reproduction of my old drawing (not that it was great 35 years ago), so my friend went spelunking, unsuccessfully, in all sorts of places trying to locate the drawing.

Because I hit a slow time (feast or famine in the art business), I asked her to send me a photograph so that I could draw it again. She complied, and I dove in immediately on a rainy day.

Before finishing, I scanned it without a background, since that is how I drew it 30 years ago.

Then I drew in a dramatic background and scanned it again.

My friend asked me to make a couple of adjustments, which were easy to do. Here it is in its final form. After growing the new shrubs into a hedge with my pencils, I photoshopped the palm trees because of a strange request to shorten them by 1/4”. (As I said earlier, I just work here.)

I love to draw (But don’t ask me for a freebie, okay?)

P.S. My friend did NOT ask for a freebie—I offered. She did ask for some modifications, and I happily complied.

Thinking About Water and Feeling Reckless

Because it is raining while I write this, I am thinking about water. A few years ago, we had a very wet winter after several dry ones, and I became obsessed with watching flowing water.

Here are some of the results. I was quite pleased with the drawings and pretty proud of the titles too. (There were more, but they sold.)

Every Drop, matted and framed, 15×17”, $400
Life Source, 9×12”, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250
Rock and Roll 2, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250
Turbulent Times, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250
Frozen and Flowing, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250
Liquid Fury, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250
Steady Stream, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250
Wet and Wild, graphite on archival paper, unframed, $250

All the unframed pieces are 9×12”.

I’ve had these too long, and this is a slow month. So, for the rest of the month of March, THESE ARE NOW ALL HALF-PRICE! (half of what is written beneath each one here on the blog) See? Reckless.

(Oh hush up, snobby Art World who says art should never be discounted! I’m in Tulare County, and I’m the boss of my art.)

They aren’t on my website, so you’ll have to talk to me in person, text me at five-five-nine-561-7606, or email me at cabinart-at-cabinart-dot-net (both written this way so the cyberjerks don’t mess with me.)

Yes, there will be sales tax.

If they don’t sell, I might just shred them. Ooh, feeling really really reckless!

“Reckless” is a weird word. If one is feeling reckless, one might not remain wreckless.

A Little Help From My Friend

It is important that we are kind and complimentary to one another in drawing lessons. It is equally important that we are honest.

AH is my friend and also one of my drawing students. Since she owns dogs, she saw something a little wrong in my drawing on the dog with the black head. I own cats (or perhaps they own me, because they are certainly manipulative and bossy), and haven’t had a dog as an adult.

Her suggestion was accurate and helpful.

I made the correction and finished the drawing. (I bet you can’t even tell what was wrong!)

Thank you, AH!!

And now we return to my bosses.

Tucker
Jackson
Pippin

The Emerging Drawing Continues

While I was waiting to hear if JM approved the house, I began one of the dogs. Just like on the itty-bitty-face drawing, I am leaving a gap between the different subjects to fill in later.

(This picture is overexposed on the left side of the house because my giant magnifying light is washing it out.)

No emailed instructions arrived, but I had time to keep working on the drawing, so I kept going.

Finally, this was as far as I felt comfortable going without further input from JM.

The dogs’ names were Timber and Tahoe, they were part wolf, and that’s all I know about them.

What a treat to be able to draw this, to pay off my old debt, to reconnect with my old friend, and to just use pencils, my favorite medium.

A Drawing Slowly Emerges

Many years ago, there was a fabulous little place in Lemon Cove called Foothill Fruit. The owner was a terrific baker and sandwich maker, and some mornings I woke up just ravenous for one of her scones and French Roast coffee. I worked there for a few brief months (it used to be necesary to get a second job during my slower winter months in order to pay my taxes—thank you, Sacramento). When I was no longer working there, we were on trade: Trail Guy (his name was Road Guy back then) and I ate, and I would eventually do a complicated collage drawing of her dogs and her home.

This is the only photo I can find from Lemon Cove right now. I didn’t want you to fall asleep with so many paragraphs of just words.

I used my film camera to take some photos, and then I did a few sketches. The owner, whom we will call JM, couldn’t make up her mind as to how she wanted her dogs and home depicted. Then, she moved far away.

This debt in the form of an undrawn picture bothered me quite a lot. She and I weren’t close friends, but we were on good terms and enjoyed each other’s company. I couldn’t figure out how to reach her (this was pre-internet), so I filed the notes and photos under “Incomplete Jobs” or some such thing.

At an oil painting workshop in January of this year, one of the participants asked me if I knew JM. Well, saw off my legs and call me Shorty! The participant put me in touch with JM, I dug out the photos, we started emailing, and she approved this sketch.

You know I can draw so this doesn’t scare you, yes?

If I hadn’t just completed that commissioned pencil drawing with all those little bitty faces, this would have been very daunting. However, I was feeling ultra capable and competent at my craft. Cocky, perhaps? Nope, just confident. (Confidence is a smile; arrogance is a sneer.)

The house photo is very dark so there will be a bit of guesswork on the details. The fact that JM no longer resides in this house gives me a little extra freedom. Maybe.
It is going very slowly. It’s been awhile since I drew such complicated architecture. Accuracy is important in rendering architecture, even if there is a bit of guesswork in the shadows.

I emailed this to JM to ask if there was anything that needed to be corrected. Stay tuned. . .

One Dubious Improvement and Two Beginnings

This painting seemed too bright. After studying it awhile, I decided to only tone down the brilliant green in the distance to push it farther away. (“Push it” visually, not warp the canvas.)

Four Guardsmen, 16×20”, oil on canvas

This is after:

Hmmm, that’s a pretty subtle difference, perhaps even dubious*. Might want to try that again later. In addition, the photography colors are significantly different.

Never mind. Let’s move ahead, shall we?

This painting looks scary in its beginning stages unless you happen to see it while galloping by on the back of a fast horse (or see it the size of a postage stamp on your phone).

After these fairly dissatisfactory adventures in oil painting, I returned to my pencils. This one has a story, which I’ll tell you when I know the ending. This is the sketch I sent to the customer to see if it matched her design expectations:

To be continued. . .

  • Dubious: ”Fraught with uncertainty or doubt”