One bright February afternoon, I took a walk in Three Rivers with my friend in Texas. We were on the phone together for the entire 3.5 miles, catching up on many topics, and sending photos back and forth. These are the pictures I sent to her (and a few extras).
I love February.
I love February in Three Rivers, so I walked a route that I haven’t walked in a long time, wanting to test my foot and my ability to endure discomfort. There were plenty of things to distract me, such as stealing a tangerine, dodging traffic, and taking photos.
I take the same photos over and over, always hoping that I will discover a familiar subject in better light or find another angle in order to make an irresistible painting someday.
P.S. In case you were wondering, 3.5 miles, foot discomfort tolerable, and I figured I could have gone another 1-2 miles without actively looking for a hatchet.
What passes for winter in Three Rivers is probably what many parts of the country regard as springtime. When we get rain, we get green.
We get flowers too.
And, we get lichen. Well, we already had that, but I’m on a roll here, taking photos while walking.
An old friend told me she was envious that I get to live in Three Rivers. In order to help her feel better, I told her this:
“There are elements of 3R that aren’t so great, such as frequent power outages (more frequent than towns down the hill), smoke in the fall, evacuations during wildfires, unreliable and spotty cell service, phone and internet outages, occasional water outages, no dentist, no drug store, expensive groceries, only 3 churches to choose from, shrinking population, Park closures that adversely affect commerce, limited commercial choices (is this a bad thing?).”
She felt better.
When Kaweah Arts closed in early January for a couple of months, I retrieved all my paintings. Kaweah Arts sold well for me in its three year span despite serious hardships: a plague, a fire, another fire, and a flood, each one leading to the closure of Sequoia National Park, which meant the flow of visitors to Three Rivers ceased. I went through my records of sales, and came up with a list of sizes and subjects that sold the best.
The average price was $145, and the most popular subject was sequoia trees, Sequoia gigantea, AKA redwoods (the common name) or “big trees” (local vernacular). Two other popular subjects were mountain range views and poppies.
I gathered seven blank canvases from 8×8″ ($100) up to 6×18″ ($165) and then went to my oh-so-lovely newly organized photo files. The efficiency. . .!
After pairing the photos with the right canvases, I then did some preliminary sketching. This isn’t something I normally do, but in the interest of painting quickly, this seemed like a prudent move. (Remember, I also need to produce 20-30 larger paintings for the solo show in October AND paint for the Silver City Store, which sells well for me in the summers when Mineral King is open to the public.)
Next, I did the boring tasks of assigning inventory numbers, and putting the hanging hardware on the back. (This is the sort of task that makes me wish I had an apprentice or an intern.)
All-righty, then! Let’s start with the assembly line style painting of the first layer to establish where colors will go and to cover the canvas.
Looks like seven little messes that vaguely suggest what they will become, but with almost 18 years of oil painting, this is no longer alarming to me.
I hope you are not alarmed either. This is the most efficient way I know to paint, and these seven paintings will be finished, signed, dry, varnished, and scanned by the time Kaweah Arts reopens in March.
It’s all part of the business of art. (Just in case the Art World is checking in and judging my use of photos, let me explain that I took great care in composing those photos and have taken great care in cropping, blending, adjusting, and arranging the parts of each one of these paintings. So There, because working from photos is not wrong.)
What passes for winter in Three Rivers usually involves sunshine and green hills. Do those folks down the hill know that the fog and gray usually ends at Terminus Dam (Lake Kaweah)?
I walked a new route yesterday. It’s been awhile since I went that way, back before peripheral neuropathy when I could actually walk that far. Now I have to drive there, which feels somewhat counterintuitive when one is seeking exercise. It is busier than my normal routes, there is more litter, and sometimes I have to cross over to the wrong side of the road in order to have a shoulder to walk on. Sometimes it is worth extra effort to experience something new.
If you receive this in your email and want to see the photos, click on the title.
This painting was waiting patiently for some attention. I gave it an entire afternoon, photographing it at 5 stages.
First, I put in some sky patches in the upper left.
Next, I strengthened the trees. They are all sort of skinny in the photo, so I will probably choose a few to fatten up. Later.
I mixed several greens and just danced around all over the canvas without a real plan.
Then I worked on the road, along with a bit more specificity in the greens.
Finally, I paid attention to the details in the closer things off the shoulders of the road.
In conclusion, the photo is mostly a suggestion of shapes and light. The details are murky, so I am just winging it, pantsing it, trying this and that with an occasional peek at the photo. Photos. I have several, and yet have no memory of taking these pictures.
Two titles are under consideration: “Take Me Home. . .” and “Somewhere in Three Rivers”.
Fall in Three Rivers is often late, subtle, or hidden in smoke. Most of the trees are evergreens, whether a variety of oaks or even some conifers. Some of the deciduous trees are also oaks, and they simply have green leaves that fall off without any hooplah. That doesn’t stop me from hunting fall color. In fact, the few places of color really stand out against all the brown, green, and gray.
After a number of years living here, I know where to look for the prettiest colors. Here are a few of the autumn leaf displays that I anticipate each year.
By the time this post goes live, many of these leaves will be gone.
Sales of my art have declined. Is it the economy? I assume so, since sales are an economic transaction. The specific reasons are: one of my regular vendors was not open this past summer; another one relied on a now-closed adjoining restaurant for foot traffic; the third place relied on traffic to Sequoia National Park, which was closed until July 1.
What’s an artist to do?
Look for a new place to sell, of course.
St. Anthony’s Retreat asked for some of my paintings for their gift shop. This is close to home, a place where I have painted several murals, staffed by many friends, and is an active place in Three Rivers. It brings in people from all over the valley for various purposes, many of which are not actually Catholic. It is a beautiful place, very bucolic, and they have very good food too.
I worked with two friends there to decide what to put in the gift shop. This is what we chose:
The painted designs on the wall for a new exhibit called Native Voices at the Three Rivers Historical Museum are finished!
The last day began with little green men, called “The Gathering”. The lighter green was ready for a second coat, and the rest of the shadows had to be drawn in. That should have been very simple, but I struggled a bit on some of the placement. (There was plenty of touch-up base coat paint for erasures.)
This is how the whole wall looked.
Next, I had to figure out how to put the shadows on the far right diamonds, called “Rattlesnake”. Instead of transferring the pattern a bit to the right of the existing diamonds or drawing it in pencil, I used masking tape to “draw” it. This took a lot of thought and measurement. I would think that it was ready to paint, stand back, and see yet another missing strip. Sometimes I was protecting the diamond edge, and sometimes I was shaping the shadows.
Everything took two coats of paint. I wasn’t sure the tape would peel cleanly, but it did fine. While looking here on my computer screen, it appears that some of my spacing is off. Some of those lines got eyeballed, so the entire thing is bound to look hand-painted rather than like applied vinyl. My customer, the Mineral King Preservation Society, looked into vinyl but chose paint instead, a choice which suits me very well.
While the paint was drying, I started touching up the drips and wobbles, along with covering the visible pencil lines and smudges from the graphite transfer paper. The smaller red diamonds called “Quail” had no shadows. Thank goodness, because these were small and detailed. Maybe I should have taped them, but every job is a completely new challenge, and I just bumble through, wishing that sometimes I could have a couple of jobs the same so that the new knowlege wouldn’t be wasted.
Finally, I decided to peel off the tape, risking disaster. (That’s an exaggeration, because as long as there was paint remaining in the necessary colors, anything could be fixed.)
I peeled and only saw a few parts that needed retouching. Acrylic paint (or latex or whatever non-oil paint is) dries so fast, which is a real bonus on a job like this.
Finally, here is a look at the whole wall.
The display will have cabinets in matching colors placed strategically beneath the colorful wall designs.
A few more facts:
This is going to be a great display, and I encourage you to visit the museum!
I enlarged these designs onto kraft paper, ordered some very large sheets of graphite transfer paper, gathered a few tools, and drove to the Three Rivers Historical Museum. My job bosses had prepped the wall for me, and they also blocked it off in a very serious manner, along with providing a ladder and a couple of tables. (They are TERRIFIC to work for!)
I had previously tested some carbon paper to see if I could transfer through the kraft paper, but had to go searching at Blick Art Materials for some large graphite sheets. There were two to choose from, and instead of accidentally ordering the wrong one, I bought both.
We measured the wall very carefully to mark the center and then figure out where the first design was to go. Then I taped the smallest design up, trying to see through the kraft paper to place it exactly on the mark I made, adjusting it until it was level.
The design was drawn in pencil, so you can’t see it on this photo. I kept the bottom untaped so I could lift it up to place the graphite paper.
MASKING TAPE WOULDN’T STICK TO THE GRAPHITE PAPER!!
The museum came to the rescue with old-fashioned brown masking tape instead of the easy-removing blue type.
This design is called Quail, taken directly from a Yokuts basket design. I used a straight edge and traced over the pencil lines with an obsolete tool from the olden days of phototypesetting that my students and I refer to as a “spatula”. (Too hard to explain.)
Squint hard, and you can see how it landed on the wall.
What next? I’ll show you in two days.