Author: cabinart

Travel Thoughts

Today (writing on Sunday night) I drove 242 miles to Asilomar, a conference center on the Monterey Peninsula for Fall Color Week, a private painting retreat with PleinAir Magazine’s Publisher Eric Rhoads and about 100 strangers. I got lost on the way, because it is ~~sometimes~~ nay, always tricky to both navigate and drive. I couldn’t get the talking lady to work, couldn’t find myself on a map, so I just resorted to commonsense, kept my sense of direction, and here I am.

Traveling by car means space isn’t very limited. I am used to traveling light, doing without, and making do, but this time I just kept adding things as I thought of them. More shoes, more pants, another sweater, another tool, another book, on and on and on. Ridiculous.

First impressions: beautiful building, long line, friendly people in line.

A friend polished my headlights and then helped me wash Fernando the day before I left. Didn’t matter, we were still shown very little respect on the freeways. Why is it that going 70 in a 65 still brings tailgating and contempt? I may have been imagining the contempt part. . .

This is the Stuck-Up Inn, where my room is.

This is a drive I’m not used to, (duh, I got lost) so the scenery was interesting. Why are there no boats on the San Luis Reservoir? What will happen to all the orchards of dead almond trees? Those golden hills against the blue sky would sure be worth painting, but there is no place to turn off the highway. Why is there so much litter? Where are all these people going?

I have been to Asilomar before. About 15 years ago, a friend and I came to Monterey for the Big Sur marathon (we walked the 9-miler) and then we came here so I could gawk at these beautiful Craftsman style buildings, designed by Julia Morgan. Wow.

One thing that was a little worrisome was rooming with a stranger. No problem! Liesl and I are immediately compatible. . . she was very relieved that I get up early in the morning, and I echo that relief. The room is very small, so it won’t be easy to tiptoe around. She might go out painting first thing; I most likely will go for a walk (THE BEACH!!)

The backside of the room where we registered.

Monday morning we will be painting close to the conference grounds so we can get used to packing our gear and learning to use it. All the people are very genuinely friendly, and many have participated in these events before.

A quick stroll down to the beach after dinner.

So, I will be posting whenever I can find time and have something to show you.

The grounds have good walkways and adequate lighting. HOWEVER, all the buildings look alike, the lanes are curvy, and it is a confusing place of 107 acres. I’ll get it figured out this week.

plein air

Back to Mineral King: Two Gentle Walks

Along the Nature Trail

The recreation restrictions were lifted, so Hiking Buddy and I took a stroll down the Nature Trail, where some fall colors were beginning to show (this was last weekend).

Up to Crystal Creek

We also took a walk across the bridge (oh my, how my walks have shrunk this year), past the pack station, and up to the much diminished Crystal Creek.

Heading Home

Driving home, we were stopped around the Conifer Gate because there were lots of tree-fallers at work. The 3-man crew on road closure duty was from Tennessee, and it was delightful to talk to them.

The next crew on the lower end of the tree-falling segment was from Montana, also delightful.

We made sure to tell all of these guys to be sure to drive to the end of the road, and also to have lunch at the Silver City Store.

So, after a three week interruption, we return to the normally peaceful and beautiful fall season in Mineral King.

But not me. I’m heading to Monterey for a week-long plein air painting retreat. I will be reporting on this radical new adventuresome opportunity next week. These are photos I took in 2009 when a friend and I went snooping around Asilomar, a fabulous conference grounds with buildings designed by Julia Morgan.

Mineral King

Back to Mineral King: This and That

The parking lot was empty on Saturday morning, because the restrictions on the road and on recreation weren’t officially lifted until 10 a.m. Most people didn’t learn of the restriction removal until the end of the day on Friday. This doesn’t really make it easy for people to plan for the weekend, but the Park is in charge, and we are not.

It was so nice to see Timber Gap again.

This cabin might actually be repaired before winter.

The wood was a regular sight; many trees were dropped and bucked up along the road, due to a contracted tree removal crew.

It felt good to swing an ax; we burned quite a bit of wood because it was chilly in the evenings and the mornings.

Here’s another sign of neglect. Literally.

Ranger Mary was lonely at the Ranger station. Backcountry permits are set up on the porch for self-registration now.

Tomorrow: two gentle walks.

Mineral King

Back to Mineral King: The Road

On Friday, September 20, we headed up the hill. The Park restrictions were still in place, so we made sure we were on the road during the permitted hours, which were quite illogical. Whatever. They are in charge; we are not. We only met 3 vehicles, all part of a construction crew on a cabin.

That pink stuff was all along the road, mostly on the uphill side. It is fire retardant called “borate”. The idea was to widen the road as a barrier to fire, should it climb up to the road.

Follow the pink road.

This is the view upcanyon, just above Lookout Point. The fire made it to Lookout and then crossed the road a bit, but we didn’t stop to figure out the particulars. We only stopped to chat with the Park employee, on loan from some Southern California park, to be sure that she made an opportunity to drive to the end of the road.

You can see borate across the canyon, along with swaths of burned areas.

The road is in terrible shape. No surprise, that. The air was clear and clean and it was a great relief to arrive at our cabin.

More tomorrow. . .

Mineral King

Navels in the Orchard

Navels in the Orchard is actually just navels on canvas, another oil painting of Tulare County citrus.

I painted the details working from the back to the front, which means first I painted the items which are the farthest away from the viewer.

Usually I wait until the painting is dry to photograph it. But look at the weather —the sun wasn’t shining, making the wet parts sparkle.

citrus art citrus oil painting citrus painting oil paintings orange art orange grove Tulare County art

News on Four Topics

Painting

I finished these two oil paintings, to be held in reserve for when the Mural Gallery in Exeter needs to be resupplied with citrus paintings.

Mineral King

The Mineral King road and recreation restrictions were scheduled to be lifted on Saturday, September 21. By now people who need to know will know for sure if that has happened.

The Book About TB

The TB book index problem is not repaired but we now have a plan. Instead of an index that can adjust itself to repagination, we will have a static index. This means that after the manuscript is formatted, I get to go through the index word-by-word and make sure the right page numbers are listed.

This is my favorite photo in the upcoming book. (*Historic Saranac Lake Collection, 2022.4.6.* (*Courtesy of the Trudeau Institute*)

2025 Calendar

Is it a good idea to show you the calendar now? They have arrived, are now for sale, and here is the part I am unsure of: they are a sneak peek into my upcoming show, Simply Home, which opens on October 19, a month from now. Wait, this isn’t truly a “spoiler”, because I have been showing you the progression of paintings for almost a year now!

The Mineral King road and recreation restrictions were lifted at 10 a.m. on Saturday, September 21.

citrus oil paintings Mineral King oil paintings orange oil paintings

Friday: Three Rivers, Not Mineral King

Normally you get to read about Mineral King on Fridays, but I have nothing to show or tell you. Maybe you only look at the pictures anyway. Maybe I am just talking to myself. . .

We went for a bikeride, curious about the firecamp at the Lions’ Roping Arena and the former Three Rivers Airport (more of a strip than a port, and closed for decades now.)

Even the most beautiful yard in Three Rivers looks a bit tired in September. August used to be my worst favorite month, but it has now become September (fires, can’t get to the cabin to get away from the heat, the deer really start chomping down my yard, everything is dusty and smoky, sick of heat, wanting to be home but so tired of heat—waa waa, someone call the wambulance.)

The number of vehicles and equipment and personnel has diminished. They are certainly keeping the gravel road watered and packed, but it is still washboardy on a bicycle.

We stood in the shade of this tree and visited with our friend, who is working security at the second gate.

I was happy to see these little guys are still in residence.

Those trucks are lined up, waiting their turn to get washed. Maybe it is a crew that is leaving.

I wonder what those sleeping trailers are like inside: probably very dark and cool. I think many of the workers choose to stay in local motels.

I don’t know what all the trucks and equipment are busy with or why, but I bet that whoever owns the former airstrip is making bank.

Enough of this fire stuff; off to the airport bridge to check out the river before the uphill ride home. (As a bonus, you now know why it is call the “airport bridge”. When we were kids and drove over it, we were instructed to, “roll up your windows—there are hippies!” I wonder if any of them was my future husband. . .)

Three Rivers

Orange Paintings Sell Better Than Pomegranate Paintings

Since Exeter’s Mural Gallery (121 South E Street) is reopening (TODAY!), I have a renewed interest in painting oranges.

The painting on the left is untitled, so for now I will call it The Painting Formerly Known As Turning Leaf. (I thought that Turning Leaf was a good painting, but apparently I was alone in my opinion.) The painting on the right is also untitled, currently known as The Painting Formerly Known As An Unsold Pomegranate. (Ditto my thoughts on that pomegranate painting.)

Easel place swap!

Not good enough yet.

Better, but photographed with an unsightly wet shine.

Therefore, I did not photograph The Painting Formerly Known as a Pomegranate.

Instead, I started a new painting. Painting oranges reignited my enjoyment of the subject, so this time I really started whooping it up with a 10×10″ canvas.

I’m going to really like this painting (until I change my mind and retouch it.)

P.S. These won’t be in the Mural Gallery just yet. They need to get finished, dry, titled, and scanned.

citrus art citrus oil painting oil paintings orange art orange oil painting orange oil paintings

Fix ’em Up, Make ’em Better Than Before

Yesterday I told you that the paintings retrieved from Silver City will be heading to Exeter’s Mural Gallery, which reopens September 19 (TOMORROW!) after a summer-long renovation. (I don’t think they have a website, but their physical address is 121 So. E Street (next door to the former Wildflower Cafe, at the edge of Mixter Park, home of Exeter’s first giant outdoor mural.)

These 5×7 oil paintings on panels got freshened up and will be sold with little easels. I didn’t photograph the process out of respect for my readers who have no interest in miniscule improvements to paintings.

And here is a table full of Mineral King paintings. I painted them quickly, in order to hustle them up the hill for the usually excellent selling month of August at the Silver City Resort. Alas, we had a thunderstorm which caused a lightning strike which began the Coffeepot fire on August 3. So, I brought them home.

They aren’t terrible, but I studied each one and found at least one thing to improve. I started at the bottom left, and here is a photo for comparison. Prolly a useless exercise for you to discern what got improved, but here goes anyway.

And now the entire table-full has been renovated.

You’ll just have to trust me that they are all a little bit better than before. By the end of the day, the light has changed significantly enough that they look different in photos, whether or not they’ve been retouched.

Now they must dry and I must rescan them in order to have a good record of each painting, because OF COURSE they will sell.

Mineral King oil paintings pencil drawing

Various and Sundry Thoughts on Stuff (both personal and professional)

I’m in a bit of a holding pattern, waiting for several things: the Mineral King road to open, a week-long plein air painting trip to Monterey, the indexer to finish repairing the index on the TB book, and my show, Simply Home, to open.

Tucker loves the unmowed lawn, which is part of one of my gardening experiments.

What’s a person to do while waiting? Stuff, both personal and professional. (What word did people use before “stuff” became a ubiquitous filler?)

Personal stuff: enjoy being home, work in the yard, do some work on the landscaping at church, read, organize some messes, hang out with the cats, you know, just stuff.

Such a sorry excuse for a pomegranate. The tree has not produced a single edible normal sized piece of fruit in over 15 years.

Professional stuff: my art has been retrieved from the Silver City Store and also from the Mural Gallery. This means that I have to change information on my inventory lists, and put card packages away.

Finally, some time to think about and design a calendar for 2025. This will be based on the upcoming show, Simply Home. Yeah, yeah, I KNOW that people care more about Mineral King than my art, but I am trying to earn a living here. (My farmer dad used to say that he “scratched his living out of the dust of the earth”. Maybe I just scratch mine out with pencils, or smear it out with paint. . .) So, because I am an active citizen of Realville, I have ordered fewer calendars than in previous years. This means if you snooze, you lose, unless the demand warrants a second order.

Why is my vitex tree blooming in September? Why is it called “vitex”, which sounds like some sort of nutritional supplement?

Oh that’s right—it is time to design a new Christmas card. Yeah, yeah, I KNOW that fewer people send cards every year, except for those flat ones full of tiny photos of themselves doing glorious things throughout the year. Not me. Each year I design a new card and send them to my drawing students (and a small handful of distant friends), using the United States Postal Service.

And while putting away the paintings that did not have a chance to sell at Silver City, I studied them and decided that they each deserved more attention.

More tomorrow on that.