Oak Tree Mural at St. Anthony’s Retreat in Three Rivers, Day Two.
After studying my photos on the laptop, I saw things to correct from Day One. Why didn’t they show up in person??
Most of Day Two was spent on bulking up Day One’s branches and adding twigs. I also put in some trial leaves at the bottom and learned they should be larger, which I fixed and liked. And, I turned the corner.
The Central Valley of California is known for its heavy winter fog, often called “tule fog”. I haven’t seen it as bad as I remember growing up. My sister would be driving the family wagon, and after the intersection of the closest avenue, we’d roll down the window and count the reflector bumps on our road. Exactly at bump #17, we’d do a hard left to turn into our driveway. That was the only way to find home.
Three Rivers is usually above the fog. One day last week, it was brilliantly sunny at home, but I had to go down the hill. I pulled over to the usual overlook vista point for this one last look at the sunshine.
Then I looked down canyon to see what was ahead.
Day Three was a little bit cold in the shade, but cold is better than hot, especially when it comes to painting a mural. Direct sun dries out the palette and the brush, even while it is trying to do its job on a wall.
I had a mental list of what the mural needed. The lower half wasn’t detailed.
Finally, I began working on my day’s assignment of detailing the lower 1/3. Then, I rediscovered that the oak tree was too high to reach. Fortunately, Trail Guy stopped by to see if I needed anything, so I requested the stepping stool from my studio.
It got colder in the shade, and suddenly I felt ready to go home. Because there is no deadline, no commute, and no check waiting at the end, I can return to this mural any time I have a better idea.
Mural completed, building dressed up, Three Rivers neighborhood beautification project finished.
Merry Christmas, Alta Acres!
Because Day 1 of the neighborhood beautification project was packed so full of mural goodness, I split it into 2 posts. So Part 3 is actually only Day 2.
Here is a list of thoughts about painting this mural:
*”The Facebook” is said the same way I say “liberry”, “prolly”, “Mr. Google”, and “Remorial Building”. I’m not as dumb as I sound, in case you were worried. Thank you for your concern.
The last post of this blog showed the beginnings of a mural on the neighborhood water treatment plant doors. I put some blue in the sky and knew there was only one direction – forward.
It is time to figure out where all the other pieces and parts belong.
This is the mural at the end of Day One. On Tuesday, I’ll show you the next steps of the process to create a Christmas present for my neighborhood.
For about 12 years, I was on our neighborhood water board. Volunteers are how things work when you live in a rural unincorporated town. I got on the board as the recording secretary because I can type fast and spell, but ended up helping to make decisions about things that I knew almost nothing about, standing in the middle of the street watching water leak away and having no idea what to do about it, taking phone calls from people who were mad about their water bills or wondered why there was no water AGAIN, reading water meters, attending way too many meetings, driving around the neighborhood knocking on doors to hand out Boil Water Notices, calculating distances between wells and the road, measuring tanks and figuring out the volume of water, helping to tear down the old treatment plant, writing articles for the newsletter that no one read, putting locks on the meters of people who wouldn’t pay their water bill, removing the locks when they decided to pay.
It was hard. I learned a lot and made friends with the other board members, 2 benefits from the experience.
Two years ago I resigned. Meanwhile, I would walk past the treatment plant and think about how nice it would be to have a mural on the doors.
Now that I have recovered from being water boarded, I want to give the gift of a mural to the current water board members and the entire neighborhood.
It took two years to decide what to paint. I used a card I drew back in 2001 of a made-up river scene, complete with Alta Peak and Moro Rock. This meant guessing the colors, and stretching things a bit.
To Be continued. . .
A bunch of years ago some people in Three Rivers decided to try something new – First Saturday. Anyone who wanted to participate could do something special on that day, and the combined efforts of the participants would bring visitors to town.
Artists opened their studios. Artists came from other places and found businesses to show their work. Artists gathered at the Arts Center to show their work.
I did this a few times but not often. Lots of other things were happening on those first Saturdays kept me out of it, and there were other reasons, most of them boring.
Nikki, weaver extraordinaire, has participated almost continually and urged me to join. So, I will tomorrow, at her urging, along with a few others. Being available to the buying public is an important element of the business of art. (Duh.)
It might rain. It rained the last time I participated, and even as the “featured artist” with the appropriate theme of Wildflowers, attendance was very very low. (Friends stepped in for me so I could attend my uncle’s memorial service that very day, but the visitors didn’t know that would be the case.) I’ll be there this year, rain or no rain – no uncles left.
The way it works is that you go to the Three Rivers History Museum and get a map. Then you visit the places that sound interesting to you.
Maybe I’ll see you on Saturday. The hours are 11-5.
(Only this little studio will be open, not the painting workshop.)
Trail Guy went to Mineral King last week. This is how it looks at this time of year.
That hardly qualifies as “Friday Fun”. What does? How about Pippin in the leaves!
It is possible that painting inside a little chapel at St. Anthony’s Retreat is the most pleasant mural painting experience I’ve ever had.
This is a scene cobbled together from several photos of Three Rivers as it shines in the spring. Look at how much I got done in one focused day of painting!
When I paint murals, there is a lot of noise in my head. Listening to Shannon’s books occupied the part of my brain that keeps yammering at me that I have no idea what I am doing, and that this is too hard for me. So, on this day of painting, the noisy and negative part of my inner dialogue didn’t have a chance. I just listened and painted, and it was lovely.