Two bird stories

Bird Story #1

I am working on a book, doing the transcribing, editing, and book design. This is for a friend of a friend, and the book will only have 25 copies, distributed to the friend’s friends. The friend of a friend’s friends.

Never mind.

The book is a collection of stories over ten decades of an extraordinary life. The writer and I have only spoken on the phone once, after I published her first book. By “published”, I mean everything: transcribing, arranging the stories into an order, editing, choosing photos and editing them with Photoshop, proofreading, helping someone to write a foreword, formatting the interior, designing a cover, writing the synopsis (“blurb”) for the back cover, sending it to the printer, proofing it for the umpteenth time, getting it printed. It was fun!

She doesn’t email or text, so when I have questions, I write her a letter, and then wait for the response. This is a slow but good way to communicate, because if one forgets what was asked or answered, the information can be found on a tangible piece of paper.

There are a few references to birds, and a poem about birds is included. So, as a surprise for the writer when she receives her book, I am including a drawing of a bird above the poem. Why not? I love to draw!

The process of shepherding a book from typewritten pages to an actual book is complicated, challenging, and very rewarding. It is a privilege to be able to do this kind of work, especially for such a remarkable person.

Bird Story #2

The title of this post is “Two birds”, so here is the second bird story (no photos).

Pippin was carrying a scrub jay in his mouth while another one was squawking overhead. I grabbed little Mr. Orange Bob Square Pants, shook him, and the bird fell out of his mouth and flew away. Sorry, Buddy. Birds, no. Rodents, yes.

Sold in Spring 2023

If you are getting this post in your email, go to the internet and type in jana botkin dot net (type it in computer style, not the way it is written here).

Sales have been slow. I am not defining “spring”, precisely, and it isn’t over yet. However, I am not producing very much: just editing and formatting 2 different books, teaching drawing lessons, communicating occasionally with the folks on 2 different pairs of murals, and wondering if there will be any reason to paint towards selling at the Silver City Store this coming summer.

 

Lest you think I am bored, your Central California artist is never bored. I am yardening, meeting up with an old friend from high school, cleaning out closets and rooms at church, yardening some more, reading, knitting, walking with my neighbor, and yardening (in case you were wondering.)

1997 Coming Back to Haunt Me

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A few weeks ago, I got a real letter in the real mail from a real person. She said my phone wasn’t working (this is common), nor was my email (also common), so she resorted to old fashioned means of communicating, which I believe to be superior in many ways, but that isn’t a topic for this post. (You can read about such things here.)

She was part of something called The Green Hotel Restoration Foundation, and they ran out of the 1000 notecards of my pencil drawing of their building. (That’s a burn rate of 38 cards per year, in case you are curious). The foundation wanted more cards.

Back in 1997, I didn’t have much of a computer, nor did I have a digital camera or a scanner. The only record I kept of my work was an occasional photocopy, a slide (remember Kodachrome?), or if the customer had cards or prints made, I’d keep an extra.

The printing company I used back then is out of business, and even if they weren’t, they certainly wouldn’t still have the plates and negatives used 26 years ago (that’s how offset printing use to be accomplished).

I called her, since obviously my email isn’t speaking to her email, and asked her for the original. 

Oh-oh. No one knows where it is. We had a great visit, then she told me that her cousin would take over the project.

Her cousin and I had many phone conversations, with lots of ideas batted around to figure out how to get more cards without having the original, and more ideas about where to look for it (the foundation balked at paying me to draw the hotel again), and we reached an impasse. 

Then I had an idea. I went rooting around in my many stacks, boxes, drawers, and binders of old cards and prints, and sure enough, I found the Green Hotel.

I scanned and photoshopped it into printing shape, since printing something with an ivory background will not yield good results.

A few more phone conversations, many undeliverable emails and lots of various attempts, and finally, finally, this drawing was in the determined and capable hands of The Green Hotel Restoration Foundation.

Then I wrote a copyright release letter and an invoice for the photoshop work. This wasn’t what one could refer to as highly profitable in terms of monetary gain, but I sure did enjoy talking to these two dynamic women, devoted to history, determined to get a thing accomplished, and very quick-minded.

To top it all off, Cousin Lady lives across the street from my brother-in-law’s parents former home, so despite being in a county to the south of Tulare County, the small-world-ness of my little life is alive and well.

Interesting Inquiry

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Recently, I got this email:

Hello –
I have an artist proof -pencil drawing of Farewell Gap by Jana M. Botkin –
It is approximately 11 “ x 13 “ —
I would like to know the value –
Attached is pics —

Thank you ,

(name, which I have left off for privacy purposes)

This is the picture she showed me (but hers was an artist’s proof):

Oh. Ick.  This is my reply to her:

Thank you for asking. I drew that in about 1987 and had about 100 reproduction prints made, which allowed me to add 10 to the run as “artist’s proofs”. These reproductions only have the value that people assign to them, and since I am not dead (yet!), please don’t view it as anything other than a piece of paper with a reproduced drawing of the most popular view in Mineral King.

When I looked further, I saw that I only had 50 prints made, which means only 5 could have been designated as “artist’s proofs”. I sent her another email to correct my mistake.

Maybe I should have offered to buy it from her, and then run it through my shredder. 

She sent a second email, asking if an artist’s proof is worth more than a numbered print. I told her the same thing as before: such items are only worth what another person is willing to pay for it.

This is my most recent drawing of the same scene; you can see why I am cringing when faced with the old one.

Blessings on all you lovely kind people who bought my art back then.

Locals, at CACHE, Part 2

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“Locals” is the name of the current exhibit (i.e. show and sale of art) at CACHE, the new name for Exeter’s Courthouse Gallery and Museum. It stands for Center for Art, Culture, and History in Exeter. THE RECEPTION IS SUNDAY, 2-4 PM.

I began my recorded talk about this pencil drawing, “Big Oak in the Pasture” like this:

“I spent time with a friend who had cattle, and we often passed this large oak, standing by itself in her pasture. Sometimes I looked at the overall shape, and other times I looked at the tangled branches. I think it is a Valley Oak, and it kept calling me back. I took many photos, not sure how they would get used.”

Drawing Because I Can

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Sometimes I draw simply because I love to draw. I try to hold back, because my flat files are full. When I have a good reason and know the drawing will not simply be stored in my files, then get outta my way.

(“Outta” is like “prolly” and “liberry”: words I like in spite of being an editor and a proofreader.)

An acquaintance did me a big favor, so I am drawing her cabin. 

I started several months ago, then set it aside because of paid work. My work priority order is this: 1. commissions with a deadline; 2. commissions without a deadline; 3. building up inventory of subjects that will prolly sell; 4. reworking paintings that haven’t sold; 5. whatever I feel like painting or drawing.

This one is considered to be Category #2. The customer isn’t commissioning me because she doesn’t know she is a customer. I am commissioning myself.

What does commission mean? That’s another topic for another blog post.

This is the drawing before I tackled it with Photoshop Junior to prepare it for eventual printing, which most likely won’t happen.

And this is after I converted it to grayscale and erased any errant lines or spots, most likely the result of a scanner screen that WILL NOT come clean, which is most likely the result of scanning paintings that aren’t quite dry, which is most likely the result of being in a hurry, which is most like the result of any number of unfortunate incidents such as not planning ahead, pulling weeds or taking walks instead of working, or choosing to draw something without a deadline instead of painting to build up inventory.

Where were we?

Oh. The finished drawing.

Now I am outta here.

Quick Day, Quick Draw

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The very fastest days are the ones spent in my studio, drawing with pencils, listening to podcasts. It took me about 2 hours to do this drawing. . .

NOT!* Just felt like it because there were so many interesting podcasts to listen to. And, because I love to draw. (have I ever told you that before?)

We will miss our UPS driver when he retires. And we will probably learn to really like the new one. 

*A long time ago I had jobs where I would work the entire day, then look at my watch and see it was only 9:30 in the morning.

Pencil Commission

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Has anyone ever had an unpleasant UPS driver? I think they must all be screened by personality before getting hired. If they are high energy, extroverted, optimistic, friendly, and have a good sense of humor along with a great memory, then they are candidates to drive those big brown trucks.

My UPS driver will retire soon, and he likes my art. He knows about my art because our buildings have murals on them, he delivers supplies to me, and I often greet him with a paintbrush in each hand.

He has the privilege of delivering to Sequoia National Park, and has taken some fun pictures of his truck surrounded by beautiful scenery. He wants a pencil drawing of his truck in one of these scenes, and has been sharing ideas with me for a few months. 

Recently, we figured out the best combination of brown truck with Sequoia scenery. Because the photos he shared with me belong to him, and because I don’t know the rules of a huge company like UPS, I will only show you my beginning sketches.

This is okay, but could be better. Trail Guy and I discussed the possibilities, because he actually has a very good sense of composition. (And zero desire to learn to draw or paint, so don’t even suggest that to him). We agreed on a solution.

Mr. UPS is good with either idea, but this one is definitely the winner.

He has no deadline, but it is nice to draw in my studio with reliable heat so I dove in quickly. Stay tuned. . .

Two Drawings, Mine and Someone Else’s

Hers

A drawing student brought in a photo she had taken, a challenging choice for a beginner. I tell my students, “Pick something you love, because you will be looking at it for a long time”. She loves this scene and worked very diligently. 

This is the result of her labors, and I think she did a wonderful job! (I removed her name because she didn’t ask to be on the World Wide Web, and I didn’t ask her permission.)

This is how it looks after I’ve photoshopped it for reproduction purposes, in case my student wants to have copies or cards printed.

Mine

For about five years, I have been working with a writer on a book about tuberculosis. It began as a local story about the TB hospital in Springville (here in Tulare County). When he started researching, the story grew into a different book, a massive project. Through it I have learned much more than I ever expected about “the white plague”, as opposed to “the black plague” (both of which refer to skin color associated with the disease, not race, so no need to get your knickers in a twist.)

The author came to me initially for some drawings for the Springville book, and upon further discussion, hired me to edit for him. We are finally reaching the end of the main text and are now gathering appropriate illustrations.

He couldn’t find a good photo of Virginia Poe (wife of Edgar), so he asked me to draw her from a rather gruesome photo (or painting?) taken shortly after she assumed room temperature.

Are you properly horrified? This fits with Edgar Allan Poe’s writings, doesn’t it? I haven’t read his work, but I learned plenty about him through the process of assisting with the writing of this book. I’ll stick with modern writers for my fiction.

Meanwhile, I think the background needs a little bit more work.

Okay, all better now. I also remembered to sign the drawing. 

 

 

Drawing While Waiting

As of January 23, I hadn’t heard from the big Catholic church in Visalia as to when I may begin the two murals. This meant lots of free time. 

My studio is in two parts: the painting workshop and the studio where I draw and do business-like tasks. The workshop is cold and dark on overcast days, and just cold on sunny days in winter. I could light the stove/furnace, but it is a little bit scary, takes a long time for the heat to reach the easels on the other end of the room, and it upsets the cats because I keep the doors closed. The studio is a little easier to heat, but I don’t have a lot of work in there right now. 

Honestly, I like to be in the living room with the wood stove, Trail Guy, and sometimes Pippin. 

I got asked to attend a meeting in Exeter, and didn’t want to drive 50 miles just to listen and talk. So, the leader of the meeting called me and used the phone speaker while I drew. Very nice. This makes for a very good time to work on a drawing.

Working from top to bottom, left to right, just inching along, layering, making up trees, trunks, and branches. This is a thank you gift for someone who most likely doesn’t read my blog. She did something very nice for me, and since I have nothing pressing and love to draw, it’s a natural activity to partake in while listening to people talk. That is, when I am not finding excuses to stay in the house.