Author: cabinart

Community Life in Mineral King

Mineral King is a place for backpackers, campers, day hikers, day trippers, and cabin folks. Today’s post is about the cabin community. (Last summer I posted regularly about cabin life.)

There are cabin communities all over the mountains in this country, and most likely in other countries too. I’ve written in the past (2018?) about what makes them special: Cabin Thoughts, One; Cabin Thoughts, Two; Cabin Thoughts, Three, A Few More Cabin Thoughts, and Final Final Cabin Thoughts.

Today’s post is what happens on a busy weekend in our cabin community of Mineral King. There are several parts to the community: our immediate neighbors, those across the creek, the settlement one mile down the road (formerly known as “Faculty Flat”, now “West Mineral King” is the preferred name, and no, I didn’t ask for pronouns); Silver City (private property 4 miles down the road); and Cabin Cove (7 cabins about 5 miles down the road from us).

This is what happens on any given weekend—the closer to the end of summer, the more activities. We:

gather at someone’s cabin for “happy hour”, eat fun things, catch up with one another, and then are too full for dinner
eat dinner together
(Trail Guy and The Farmer, not me unless The Farmer isn’t around) help with various repairs. (The cabins are OLD.)
hike together (hike: carrying pack with lunch and water)
walk together (no pack, no lunch)
give one another rides up and down the hill
bring supplies for one another when coming up the hill
share books
lend knitting needles
let people use our telephone (when we had one) and borrow the neighbor’s phone now
clean up the platform for the annual “Music in the Mountains” event
prune in one another’s yards (okay, that’s just me. . .)
use a hav-a-hart trap to catch bushy-tailed woodrats (definitely Trail Guy, NOT me)
explore historic sites
lend tools
repair water line breaks
go through the junk we discover in our respective cabins, sometimes trading items of interest
share missing recipe ingredients

We stay in touch throughout the year, because our friendships are solid, not simply seasonal.

Mineral King Without Hiking

There is always work to be done on cabins; I’m the self-appointed Chairman of the Neighborhood Beautification Committee. As such, I said “I can” when a neighbor asked if I knew of anyone who could paint the trim on his cabin. The very faded and peeling trim.

A new pair of socks is on the needle (yeppers, one pair at the same time on one needle).

There was a lovely evening time around a fire with neighbors who are cherished friends. We choose to hang out with our neighbors, and time up the hill is always enhanced by their presence.

I took a short (very short) walk to see what is in bloom. The lupine are profuse.

There is more larkspur than in the past, and it is very small.

In my ongoing efforts to learn trees, I stopped to photograph this lodgepole pine. Did you know that lodgepoles are the only 2-needle pines? That means the needles grow in pairs. Duh.

There is still whitewater, and yes, that is smoke obscuring the rock outcropping on Empire. There are multiple fires in the Sierra Nevada foothills right now.

It was so very green (if I ignored the smoky sky and the dead trees.)

Heading back, I was struck by how different this little group of aspens looked with the sunlight behind. (It is the same group of four shown in the previous photo.)

Thus, we conclude another few days of hanging out in Mineral King, keeping occupied without hiking.

Mineral King

INDEPENDENCE DAY

Today I challenge you to read the Declaration of Independence.

Things I Don’t Understand

My life isn’t only focused on Mineral King and making a living with art. While I am puttering at the cabin or at home, painting, yardening, knitting, splitting wood, listening to something, I think.

Sometimes I think about things that I don’t understand. None of it is very important or life-altering. As a Questioner, I wonder about stuff. Here is a current list:

Sun tea: Who cares if it brews in the sun or in the refrigerator?
Sun-dried tomatoes: Who cares if they are dried in the sun, in a dehydrator, or on a shelf in the back window of your car?
Sea-salt: What difference does it make if the salt comes from the “sea” (don’t they mean “ocean”?), from Death Valley, or from those dreaded salt-mines?
Artisanal or hand-crafted: Does this actually improve the flavor?
Anti-science: since when is asking questions “anti-science”? I thought questions were how you figure out what is true.
Tailgating: it causes accidents, creates tension, and never causes the one in front to drive faster. What is wrong with people??
Horror movies: who wants to be scared? Why?? Isn’t life scary enough?
Have you noticed that there is a tremendous amount of advertising for beds, mattresses, and linens? Do you think there is some sort of correlation with the explosion of high-energy drinks available? Here, get amped up, and now you can’t sleep? Just buy a new bed!

If you leave comments and don’t hear back from me or see them appear, please be patient. It means I am in the Land of No Electricity, Phones, or Internet, probably thinking of more things that I don’t understand.

And now maybe you don’t understand why I used all these photos of sunflower paintings. Easy—because it is summer!

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

California Artist custom art Mineral King Mineral King oil paintings oil paintings

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.

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.

learned list

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.

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

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.

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.

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

Mineral King

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.

oil paintings Tulare County art

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.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is IMG_6989.jpeg — 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”.

custom art oil paintings Tulare County art

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.