Today I will show you photos from the area. There are so many that I will just do it as a “gallery”, which is a collection of photos without all the chit-chat. Okay, maybe a tiny bit of chit-chat to explain 2 of the photos. Or maybe 3.
Today’s painting from Simply Home, a solo show at CACHE in Exeter.
Although I am still going on and on about the week of plein air painting in Monterey, now that Simply Home has opened, I will show a painting from the show each day until I either run out of paintings or run out of days.
Each evening I ate dinner quickly, grabbed a to-go cup of decaf coffee, and scooted down to the beach for a little time before our evening gathering sessions. Everyone loves sunset at the beach in California, but most people stayed at the tables conversing and having dessert. It was just too loud in there for me, and the beach was calling.
I never did see the green flash because the sky was never clear in the west. Besides, I’ve never seen the green flash and wonder if it really exists or if it is like Sasquatch.
These photos are beautiful, but in Plein Air World, it is VERY BAD to paint from photos. You may use them for reference, but if you aren’t painting on location, your paintings will be SUBSTANDARD. So there.
(Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, eh?)
There were a few oddities that caught my eye throughout the week. (I used “sundries” in the title because of the alliteration.)
This car was parked near me when I sat on a wall painting. A very dressed up young woman appeared briefly, but I was too engrossed in my work to figure it out. Probably engagement photos.
This was behind the counter where we got our meals.
This house was next to the building where we had our Rah-rah sessions, and one evening it was lit up like this. Too bad about the car in front. I could paint it; our Fearless Leader told us to only paint houses when there are clearly cars there to indicate that the owner is home, because then you are likely to sell the painting! I was too busy to stand around painting houses.
Here is painting #1 from Simply Home.
We arrived about 15 minutes before the reception began, and the light was so nice coming around from the side of the gallery.
This is the early moment of Is It All Ready? before people arrive, the moments when I think, “Oh no, what if no one shows up??”
The gallery board is so welcoming, and Trail Guy seemed to know everyone.
It started to fill up. Say hi to Paula!
Then the gallery got full, the art director introduced the gallery board president, who went on and on about me, making me look good. It was a little embarrassing, and kind of fun too, because we interacted a little, as we like to do. Then I said my little spiel, ending oh so cleverly with how I always return to Tulare County after seeing other places, because it is “simply home”.
When the gallery was full, I didn’t take any photos, of course.
Lots of visiting with old friends, meeting a few new folks, and then when no one was left except gallery board members, when there was just 17 minutes remaining, this couple came in. It was an old friend of mine from about 30 years ago, and her husband, whom I had never met!
They bought three paintings. Insert a big goofy grin here, as I remind myself that is exactly why I NEVER NEVER NEVER close up my booth early if I am doing an art bazaar. NEVER close early. Besides, I was really happy to see my old friend, because we only email from time to time.
Finally, I took a photo of the guitar man, who filled in all the awkward pauses and set the tone for a nice evening.
First, an ad. I hope to see you all (my tens of readers) on Saturday!
Many people enjoy Mineral King in summer; fewer make it there in the fall, and a very few make it up in the winter (for many good reasons, beginning with the locked gates). I think of it as a summer place, and with this year’s extended heat, the season seemed lengthy. The added time was a gift, because we thought it was toast with that stupid Coffeepot fire.
Lots of photos for you to enjoy today. . .
I went out with my dying camera battery to capture a few photos in the sunshine.
It was good to see that work has gotten done on several cabins in spite of the rude interruption of the stupid Coffeepot fire.
The next day began overcast. We went for a walk past Crystal Creek to see if we could discover any fall color. Nothing to see. Hiking Buddy and I went out a bit later, thinking it might be our only chance. However, the sun came out later, so we went back out. Look at the difference the sun makes! (And please excuses the dark spots from Trail Guy’s camera, which I borrowed due to forgetfulness on my part to bring the backup battery.)
While hanging out with my little friend, I showed her something peculiar.
That was there all weekend and no one knows why. So, we added a pair of found sunglasses. We are easily amused at our cabins, always finding something fun to do.
There is such a nostalgic feeling to the season’s final stay at our cabins. Although we see our neighbors throughout the year because we are real life friends, closing is a bit melancholy.
While we made one final stop at the community dumpster (managed by Trail Guy, the all-purpose mayor), I took the borrowed camera for one final look at some fall color. Turned out to be more fall light than actual autumn-type colors.
And finally, it is a huge relief that the temporary bridge allowed us to come and go all season.
As we spent time painting or at meals or meetings, we gradually got to know one another and learn names, although there was a lot of name-tag reading all week long. I met John Lynch of Toronto on the first day, so his name got cemented into my overloaded memory.
John spent several mornings working on the same painting. The last morning, I almost shouted, “YOU NAILED IT!”, but I managed to keep my voice down, and he graciously talked to me about the importance of plein air painting. I wish I had recorded his wisdom.
Liesel, my Roomie, cranked this out in one manic session. It sold immediately, and she will be making prints. Here is her website: Liesel Lund Fine Art She is a terrific painter who approaches art entirely differently from me, absolutely committed to making “joyful impressionist” work, which fits with her joyful personality. This is my favorite of her paintings, and although I hinted outright, she didn’t turn it into a roommate gift. (We are exchanging calendars of our work for 2025.)
Eric Rhoads, our fearless leader, is possibly the highest energy, most positive can-do (and does it all) man I’ve ever met. He is the publisher of Plein Air and Fine Art Connoisseur magazines, a producer of how-to painting videos, author of an art business book (out of print), organizer of plein air expos and retreats, and those are only the things that I remember off the top of my head.
I met another Jana, whose last name I never learned. She noticed my name tag and introduced herself on Day 5. We were just tickled to run into someone else with the same not-so-usual name, but I never saw her again. Her husband was there to film an instructional video for Streamline Publishing, and I only got his first name of “Frank”.
And one more reminder of Saturday’s show opening:
We were a group of about 100 people at Asilomar, plein air painting together, walking on the beach together, having meals together, meeting together in the morning and the evening, and sharing living quarters (unless we paid an additional astronomical fee for a private room).
With a crowd of enthusiastic painters, I had to work to find solitude. So, I walked on the beach or on the road overlooking the beach every morning. Sometimes I saw other people with our style of name tags, sometimes painting or walking, but also a handful of other morning folks along with surfers.
Tomorrow I’ll show you some of the new friends I made.
Meanwhile, back to the future:
Many of the buildings at Asilomar were designed by Julia Morgan, the architect best known for designing the Hearst Castle in San Simeon. She is also known for many fine buildings in Berkeley, AND a building at the Springville Hospital (for TB) here in Tulare County, now torn down due to earthquake standards.
Roomie and I were assigned a room in The Stuck-up Inn.
Our room was shockingly small for two people and all the painting gear. The room assignments were a mystery, because some of the people who paid for a single room had rooms that were much larger. Weird.
It had rooms around a central courtyard, where I sat to paint one afternoon after I had a fight with my easel.
I thoroughly enjoyed the living room each morning before the sun came up. It was a place to be alone (so thankful no one else thought of hanging out there!), to stretch, to read, and to experience some solitude before taking a pre-breakfast walk at (or on) the beach and joining the teeming mass of painters.
In spite of the space limitations, I was completely charmed by the age and the details of the building. As Roomie said, it forced us to spend more time out painting. I was very thankful for the fact that we were so compatible.
Next time, I will show you photos of the sunrises and other things that caught my attention in this week of painting in Monterey.
Meanwhile, back to reality:
Piños Point Lighthouse was pulling me, just like that Rocky Creek Bridge. I love architecture and really like to paint (and draw) a blend of man-made and God-made subjects.
The trouble was that the lighthouse has very limited hours. By the time I finished painting at Lover’s Point Park, there were only 1-1/2 hours hour left when the lighthouse would be open. Since it cost to get in, I didn’t think such a limited time was worth the money—by the time I got set up and really into the painting, it would be time to go. So, I drove around looking for a few different views.
I finally found a place next to the adjoining golf course with the lighthouse in the distance. It isn’t perched on the cliffs, but is back a ways. You can see it isn’t ideal, but sometimes an artist has to do what she has to do.
This time I decided to draw directly on the canvas panel, to save some time.
Now, where will I put my little stool? There is no space, and it makes me too low. My main limitation (besides finding a parking place) was that when I sit, there are often shrubs blocking the view. In this case, it was a picket fence.
AHA! I will sit on Fernando’s hood, a less than ideal situation, but remember, sometimes an artist has to do what she has to do.
I got a few basics down, and realized it was ridiculous to paint that way. The slant of the hood (“HEY! Get back here, paintbrush/palette knife/palette/paper towel!”) along with the wind raging from the ocean behind me made it untenable. So, I took some photos to use later.
Forget this. I am a studio painter, and I need to sit quietly and look at my photos to complete this painting. I returned to Asilomar and set up in the living room of the lodge where I was staying.
Alrighty then! I like this, and will like it better when I detail it to pieces.
This was a good way to end my 6 days of painting at Fall Color Week at Asilomar. I will show you some other parts of the week in a few more blog posts.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch. . .
I wasn’t there, but Trail Guy brought back good photos of fall color for you. Do you have a favorite?
If plein air painting really floated my boat, I’d be there chasing down fall color. Instead, I am probably there packing up for the winter.
Next fall, perhaps. . .
Five days of painting plein air should have built some skill and some confidence. I learned two things: I paint better alone, and I paint better when there is no sense of being rushed. So, I headed to a place called Lover’s Point Park in downtown Pacific Grove.
I skipped the morning Rah-rah meeting—fun, painting tips, instructions but a waste of good painting time, left earlyish in my own car, and found a perfect parking place in the shade. It was close to a wall where I could sit with the borrowed easel box on my lap and my stuff on the wall next to me. Before setting up, I walked around a bit to choose a location. Yes, I was influenced by the proximity to Fernando (my car).
Next, a sketch. Choosing a view and doing these sketches reminds me of choosing something from a dinner menu at a great restaurant. Anything is great, so there’s no need to spend a lot of time dithering.
This’ll do.
Let’s go!! I felt confident enough to paint 11×14″, knowing that no one was waiting for me to finish, and not getting all bowed up about how fast the light was changing. I also didn’t overhear anyone else talking about “gorgeous light”, “yummy colors”, or “a pop of color”, or how they needed to “scrape” their painting because it was awful. All this chitchat stresses me out, although I can’t say exactly why that is.
It’s always good to step back, something that’s a bit harder to do when sitting with an easel box in one’s lap.
Might be good to photograph the scene again.
I kind of like this one, but still think I can do better in the studio. It was a fun place to paint, with lots of people stopping by to admire or ask questions. I talked to 3 little kids who all love to draw, and gave each one a business card, “free art”.