Really Big Oil Painting of Classic Mineral King

The day finally came to finish this painting. Well, not entirely finish, because after I photograph a painting, I usually see a long list of things to fix or change or improve. I don’t know why this becomes evident when looking on a screen; it is also true for my drawing students and other friends who paint or draw.

The tall trees were the next thing to paint, and I decided it was time to go in search of my floor easel for larger paintings. We have a lot of storage space, and it wasn’t easy to find or retrieve this thing. But, it was worth the effort—tall easel=ease of painting but ease of locating.

I cleared off the table where an easel usually sits. Whoa, I have a lot of brushes.

Then I lowered the painting so I could sit on the stool and still reach the top. I used to paint standing up. My feet used to not be numb. I’m thankful I can still paint at all.

Stop procrastinating, Central California Artist! You have a large painting to complete, so chop-chop!

First, I redid some of the background details (not so as you’d notice in these little photos, but I didn’t want you to think I was just sitting there.)

A tree grows in Mineral King/Three Rivers/on canvas.

And another tree grows.

Shrub and water time.

Now the canvas is covered. Time to let it dry.

I wondered what it looked like in real sunshine so I carried it outside for a photo. It isn’t signed and the edges aren’t painted, so it didn’t matter that the easel cast a shadow on the top.

Let’s have a little fun. . .

I think this is fun. Simple pleasures. . .

Before I put on my metaphorical critical hat, I just want to enjoy the sense of almost completion of this 18×36″ oil painting of classic Mineral King. I wonder if it will sell at Silver City, sell from my website, or hang on until the solo show in October at CACHE. . . more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

18×36″, oil on wrapped canvas, suitable for framing or ready to hang as is, Classic Mineral King, $1500

Seven Things Learned in June

I didn’t learn much in June; is this the result of 2 weeks spent blowing my nose? Here is my monthly list, minus many AHA! moments.

1. The lotion I’ve used on my face for more than 20 years is no longer available. Why do companies stop manufacturing items? Yeah, yeah, because they aren’t profitable enough. Sigh. I looked on eBay and the least expensive is $75. No thanks. I used to balk at paying $13.

Expect more wrinkles yearly.

2. My normal preferred route to Hume Lake was closed due to construction. There is an alternate route, one that involved roads I never knew existed, paved but one-lane. In the past I would have taken the new route without question, excited to learn a new way. However, in his old age. Fernando is only cautiously adventuresome. Sigh. Maybe I learned acceptance of limitations of our advancing ages.

3. A friend needed a room in Newport Beach for a pickleball tournament. Did you know that $120 is considered a bargain??

4. Colds can slam you at any time of year, regardless of how carefully you avoid sick people. Something changed with Covid; I used to go as long as 5 years without catching anything. Or did something change with age, as I moved into the S’s? Never mind. Was it Covid? I don’t care. What have I learned? Never mind. Just complaining a little. (Do colds last two weeks for you too?? They used to last 7 days.)

5. I am skeptical about the claims of many medicines, particularly those for colds. A cold will last as long as it lasts and will do whatever it does, regardless of our attempts to stifle or shorten it. Here is an article that backs up my skepticism: Doctors question value of other cold medicines. . . I realize this is the internet, where opinions and experts abound, and there is much contradiction, but this article backs up my own experiences.

6. Even if I am grounded in Mineral King by the sorry nature of my numb feet, it is still a great place to hang out in the summer.

7. I hired someone to feed the cats and water the yard but she never showed up*. Four different friends have stepped into the void. I learned to accept a (HUGE) gift of help, and unfortunately, to not trust someone.

*It wasn’t a hot weekend and the cats had access to their regular abode, water, and dry food that they usually ignore.

Mellow Mineral King Time

On my most recent excursion to Mineral King, Fernando and I took our time getting there. (I drove myself so as to not cough on other people.) I didn’t take any road photos, lost track of how many potholes, dirt sections, and flower varieties, and thoroughly enjoyed the drive. (The radiator was replaced last summer, so all was well.)

In spite of not hiking, I found plenty to keep me occupied. First, I just admired our new umbrella.

Then I worked on some socks, which really looked great with the dress I was wearing.

I admired the umbrella a bit more.

I contemplated the changes up slope the hill from my vista point.

2021
now

A few flowers were out in abundance and the light was right.


Western wallflower
Bitter cherry

I admired a cabin with evening light through their tangled flag. I’ve drawn this in pencil and called it “Dawn’s Early Light”, which is more poetic than “Tangled Evening Flag”.

The classic view is both beautiful and unphotographical in evening light. However, it is useful to have this photo of the water as I finish up my current painting of the most popular Mineral King scene.

There is a lot of fun to be had at the bridge.

seeking flat rocks
photographing the big splash
evening light beneath the bridge

By hanging out near the cabin instead of heading out on the trails, I spend more time with neighbors, splitting firewood, doing little projects, noticing details and new possible paintings.

Languid ladies, AKA Sierra bluebells

Let’s close this little session of chitchat about mellow cabin life with another shot of the classic scene.

While I Was Getting Gas

At The Four-Way, right next to the Chevron station, there is a classic red barn with an enormous Valley oak tree, quercus lobata. It’s just part of the landscape, and one day while I was getting gas, I realized that this barn could just tumble, or the excess pavement near the tree could prevent it from getting the water it requires and BOOM, gone-zo. So, I took a photo to paint from, realizing there would need to be some severe editing and a liberal application of artistic license.

I started painting it one morning when I was a bit short on time but eager to get rolling. A friend stopped by to visit and kept me company while I started. I felt pretty optimistic about the painting by the end of the session.

Then I looked at this photo and realized the barn’s proportions were completely whackadoodle. So, I erased the worst parts.

Then I drew them in correctly. (How/why did I skip this step initially?? Never mind about having a friend hanging out. . . I used to be able to talk and draw.)

Back on track. . .

I realized that the orange trees needed to be different shades of green from the oak, so I mixed new greens and fixed up that grove.

Then I started working on the tree.

There was too much sky, and it needed hills and mountains.

Those clumps of leaves seemed to take forever.

It was a good day painting, and when I finished, I sat across from it with my critical hat on (metaphorically speaking because I wasn’t actually wearing a hat), I made a list of about 10 things to correct or add.

Want to see the photo that I snapped while I was getting gas?

You can see that severe editing was required to turn it back into a real countrified scene. And you can probably see about 90 things that I can do to make it be a better painting.

Ad-libbing, Guessing, Winging It

On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.

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Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.

Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.

With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.

I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.

A Situation and a Recovery

A week ago, I had a situation to deal with: I got sick. Such a disruption. I was only able to paint a little bit before the need to lie down took over.

While reclining, I used the laptop to look carefully at the paintings finished and paintings needed for the upcoming solo show at CACHE. More paintings are needed, but feeling poorly meant that I would paint poorly.

There were other tasks to tackle, ones that didn’t require heavy concentration. One day I gathered canvases, put on the hanging wires, chose titles, assigned inventory numbers, and actually slapped on a light layer of paint. I knew it wasn’t a good day for painting when I dropped my palette. It landed upside down, of course. I headed back to the couch.

These are all 8×16″, a new size for me. 10×20″ was too big, and 6×12″ was too small. These might be just right, as Goldilocks said.
These are all 16×20″.

Another simple task for another day was to scan these two new Mineral King paintings.

Sawtooth #61, 8×8″, $145
Mineral King Valley #7, 8×8″, $145

Recovery came; it always does (except when it is time for the big dirt nap).

Assorted Photos with Chit-Chat

If you look in the shadows between (and beyond) the 2 chairs, you might be able to discern a doe with 2 fawns, probably born that very day.

While getting gas at the Four-way (local vernacular for an important intersection), I snapped this photo. Barns this classic and oak trees this majestic, quercus lobata, are standard but disappearingTulare County items, and when seen together, they should be painted or drawn or just photographed. (If I paint this, I will edit it severely.)

This is called a vitex tree. Doesn’t that sound like some sort of diet supplement? We tend to refer to these as “lupine trees”.

I finished 2 more Mineral King paintings, both 8×8″, drying quickly in the heat.

My friend with the Hume Lake cabin sent me this photo, which might possibly be the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen. Maybe I shall paint it. . . yes, I KNOW it is in Fresno/Fres-yes County but it is a well-loved place, even among us ignorant, fat, uneducated, poor, diabetic Tulare County hon-yocks.

Trail Guy Goes to Ranger’s Roost

Do you know “Ranger’s Roost”? It is the higher ground to the west of Timber Gap.

I didn’t go. I was at home, dealing with a situation. More on that next week. . .

Trail Guy was gobsmacked by the abundance of phlox, as evidenced by the abundance of photographs of phlox.

Timber Gap has great views, both north and south.

Looking south into Mineral King

Looking north into the middle fork drainage of the Kaweah river and the mountains beyond, none of which I can name.

I love trail photos.

If you are reading this post on the day it goes live, I hope to be back in Mineral King. Probably not hiking, maybe painting, probably just reading or knitting or splitting wood. Maybe next week’s Mineral King post will have photos taken by me with my camera.

P.S. You can tell these photos are from Trail Guy’s camera because the sky has those dark spots (from something on/in the lens, not chemtrails). He doesn’t mind. I bought him a new camera, and he declined it. I kept the new camera, and it went weird, while his spotty camera just keeps soldiering onward. I bought myself another new camera, and so far, so good.

Painting Mineral King with the Swamp Cooler

On another hot day with my brave swamp cooler, I focused on the giant oil painting of the classic Mineral King scene.

I was thankful to have the sky finished—well, finished unless I decide later that it isn’t finished. It is just too tall for me to reach, so some logistics must be addressed each time I work on it. Tabletop about 3′, lowest easel setting about 5″, top of painting another 3′. I’ve used a ladder in the past but my numb feet don’t want to stand on a rung these days. I do have a large floor easel, but am too lazy to set it up. It’s just one painting—I can stretch.

Details on the peaks, building up the background as I work lower (and closer to the viewer in the scene).

Fix that cabin!

Sort out the river ripples, rocks, and layers of willows according to the “map” I drew a couple of weeks ago. This distinction isn’t very visible in the final photo, but it makes sense to me.

Give up and go in the house. Five hours in the swampy heat is enough for today. I’m guessing to have about 15 hours remaining to completion. That is a WAG (Wild [Donkey] Guess), for those readers who always like to know how long a painting takes. This probably already had 3 hours in it before I started back up.

Back to Painting Mineral King.

Thanks for taking a detour with me to Hume Lake. I came home and went straight to the easels. Mineral King is my main subject this time of year, a short season with no time to lollygag around. (Imagine taking a vacation FROM Mineral King!)

This piece got sky, and I started shaping the mountains that form Farewell Gap. It is 18×36″, and will take awhile to complete.

So, it is necessary to focus on some small pieces. Again.

I finished these five. One of the Mineral King Family Cabin paintings was painted for a blog reader, but I haven’t heard back from her, so maybe she didn’t read the comment reply or the email I sent her. (HELLO, JO L! ARE YOU STILL INTERESTED?)

These two 8×8″ canvases will become Sawtooth #61 and Mineral King Valley #7.

All the paintings are to be sold at the Silver City Store, unless they sell here first.

(6×6″ = $70, 8×8″ = $145, 18×36″ = $1500 Thanks for asking.)