The first painting that I sold at Kaweah Arts was a 6×18″ oil of a Sequoia tree. Immediately I painted another.
My mama didn’t raise a dummy. This time when the big tree sells, I will have another one ready for delivery to Kaweah Arts. Call me “Butter” because I am on a roll!
Don’t be scared. It will turn out just fine. They always do, except when they don’t, and then I repaint them into something else.
The 6×18″ oil painting of a giant Sequoia, AKA Big Tree, sold at Kaweah Arts, an art consignment shop. When Nancy, the proprietor, let me know, I asked if it was bought by a friend or relative who felt sorry for me. She said that it went home to Wisconsin with a woman who always buys art to commemorate her travels.
Alrightythen! Looks like a winner of a subject for this store, so I’d better get cracking on another one.
I chose the photo with a more extreme angle of peering upward into the tree, but then just started making up things. After painting too many redwood trees to count, I feel fairly confident just winging it.*
It isn’t finished. More sky should be showing among the upper foliage, the ground is not right, the grasses along the bottom are too even, and the tree itself needs more detail and contrast.
*Apparently this rogue knitter and rogue baker is becoming a rogue oil painter too.
After posting about Seven Big Tree Oil Paintings, it seemed like a good idea to figure out when I painted which one so I could see them in order and decide if I am improving or going the other direction. So, here they are in order.
Interesting – I think the 2 best are the first and the last. So much depends on the quality of the photo, and I don’t have very many to choose from that show the entire tree. But there is also the color variance from photo to photo and tree to tree. As I gain confidence, which happens with experience, I am able to just figure out what colors please me rather than feeling bound to the photo.
If you want a tree like this, the size is 6×18″, the price $165 (plus tax if you live in California). Of course there are larger canvas sizes available (smaller too, but those are for younger eyes and fingers more agile than mine at manipulating paintbrushes). Remember,
(I hope $165 isn’t scary).
Sequoias, Big Trees, Redwoods. Since discovering the 6×18″ canvas size, I have painted redwoods on them seven times.
You can see that sometimes I used the same photo. I don’t know if these are shown here in the order painted, but I know for sure the last one is the most recent (and still quite wet at the time of this writing). I happen to like it best, which is a good sign that my skills have improved.
P.S. These trees are in Tulare County, right here in California’s flyover country. They are something about which we can feel good. There are many things about which we can feel good here, but if you know someone who wants to move here, go ahead and remind them that we are fat, uneducated, and poor. Oh, and there is high unemployment, bad air, and no Trader Joe’s either.
P.S. It costs a fortune to have a transplant, and while insurance covers much, there is much more that it does not cover. If you feel generous and inclined to help my friend, Rachelle, this is the best way to do so: HelpHopeLive.Org
The weather was stunning last week, which made it difficult to focus on work. Trail Guy invited me to go enjoy the great outdoors with him, so I spent 2 hours doing non-work. Then I dove back into my show prep.
First, I chose photos for Arts Visalia to use for publicity. They requested 4; I chose 12. Oops.
Then I worked on the artist statement, which I streamlined a bit more (thank you, Blog Reader Sharon!)
Next, I filled out the contract. Seems a little bit out of order, but maybe they know that I am a woman of my word.
Finally, I painted.
These big boys are a little cumbersome to move around and store while wet.
Finally, I decided this smaller one is finished, no more messing around.
You may breathe easier, seeing that I didn’t put this Sequoia oil painting in the dumpster.
I’ve gotten some helpful suggestions for dealing with the Sequoia oil painting that doesn’t please me.
First, I added the upper branches. (You’ve seen this.)
Next, I changed the green in the background forest to make it look more distant, and also strengthened the color and contrast in the main tree.
Finally, I added branches of a tree that was in the foreground.
Sometimes I think this painting might be headed for a dumpster.
After painting the snowy sequoia scene, 24×48″, these current 18×36″ pieces shouldn’t feel large to me.
Alas, they do.
I often tell my drawing students, “You can be fast or you can be good – you get to decide”. Then I say that in pencil, I get to be both fast and good. (If it is true, it isn’t bragging.)
In oil painting, it is necessary for me to be slow in order to be good, at least the way I define good (and my customers too, or they wouldn’t be customers).
These two oil paintings on the easels are going v e r y s l o w l y.
I am jumping all over the canvas (not literally, don’t worry), chasing around different sections, based on the colors I mix and what catches my interest. Eventually it will all get covered. 
The only difference between these two photos of the sunny sequoias is that I cleaned yellow off my brush on the second one. It was left from finishing the edges on the cowboy painting. The entire canvas needs to be covered multiple times, and wasting oil paint hurts my frugal heart, so now there is a strangely colored first layer near the bottom.
(But sometimes her early color choices might.)
After adding the birch branches to the Hard House oil painting commission, I happened to look at an oil painting of a Sequoia in my studio. For some reason, I haven’t really liked this painting very well.
Since it hasn’t sold, maybe no one else likes it either. After working on the sequoia mural and the giant snowy sequoia oil painting, I had an idea of how to improve it.
It always feels weird to put a completed painting back on the easel. It is a blend of feeling good about knowing I can improve it, and feeling a little embarrassed that I didn’t figure it out sooner.
Okay, now look:
Maybe I can do better. It took awhile to recognize the photo I used for this painting because I have definitely used it as reference only rather than an exact recipe.
Maybe I’ll keep messing with it. The contrast could be heightened on the main tree, and maybe a foggy looking distant sequoia would look believable behind it to the left, as in the photo. All the distant trees could be made grayer or lighter or something that shoves them farther back.
Who am I to think I can improve on nature? The answer is this: I am someone who understands that real life is messy and artists get to clean it up. For example, look at the large amount of dead branches on the 2 trees to the left of the main tree in the photo. What purpose would they serve in this painting? Likewise with the young tree in front on the right side – it obstructs the view of the big tree.
So many decisions for just one painting – it is a wonder I can even decide what to wear in the morning. Aha! That explains why I often don whatever I left on The Chair the night before.
When I started oil painting on March 8, 2006, I first drew out the painting in pencil on the canvas. Now I simply scribble with a paintbrush. One thing I do that is similar to drawing is to turn the canvas upside down.
What is this mess?
It is Crescent Meadow in Sequoia National Park on a large (for me) 18×36″ canvas.
This is one more large oil painting toward the show that is coming at a Visalia gallery in January 2022.
With each painting, I eventually. . .
I skipped showing you all the in-between steps. They were this: snow on the ground, tree details, more snow on the trees, details on the few upper branches, more detailing on the trees, sign, and then. . .
. . . I flipped it upside down! Why?
Because the bottom needed painting.
Then I moved it into the dining room to dry.
When it was dry, I carried it outside to photograph in the daylight.
Hi Tucker. Thanks for stopping by.
Wowsa. I feel mighty proud (and relieved).
Trail Guy and I spent an hour building a make-shift, patchworked, DBO box to protect it on its journey.
This is the fancy pick-em-up truck, not the Botmobile.
Today I will deliver the giant commissioned oil painting of Sequoia trees in snow, and it will feel great to hand it over.