Silos and the Sierra

A few weeks ago, I went to Tulare. As usual, I chose back roads. There were orchards in bloom, greenery everywhere, and snow on the Sierra Nevada. There is often snow there but it isn’t always so visible from the flatlands. (Smog comes down the Altamont Pass from the Bay Area and collects in the Central Valley.)

Agriculture is the biggest industry in Tulare County, and there is more to ag than citrus, although you might not know that if you look at my art. I don’t get out very often, so when I saw this field of some kind of grain (prolly for cattle to eat or perhaps for dairy cows) with the silos and the mountains beyond, I pulled over.

The base coat, easy stuff.
It looked easy, so I started with the sky, corrected the mountain blue/lavender, and then decided to try the grains. Then, I just kept going.
It was a little tricky to paint into wet paint, but the practice is good for me.

The end of the day has low light, so I took it outside to get a better photo. The color is weird on the silos and buildings, not just because of the low light, but because the mountain blue/lavender paint got mixed in. That is a risk of painting wet into wet. (Sometimes I live out on the edge, painting wet into wet or pulling over on the side of the road for photographs.)

All that remains is to get those mountains right and correct the color on the silos and buildings. I left off a giant house because it didn’t seem important. I’m the boss of my painting, not the photographs or reality (unless it is a commissioned piece).

P.S. There won’t be any wildflowers.

Spring in Three Rivers

In the middle of a day of painting, I took a short walk.

Last year at this time, we were preparing for a wedding. I spent a fair amount of time preparing the yard where the wedding was to take place. This year I revisited the site, and the cows remembered me. When they saw I was weeding a little bit, they came to the fence to ask for treats.

These are some of the weeds I pulled to feed the beeves. They could also be considered wildflowers

This one was the most assertive.

Since it was a workday, I didn’t linger, but I did enjoy more wildflowers on the stroll back to the easels.

Redbud is actually pink, or magenta, or purplish pink, not red.

Drawing With My Paintbrush

We left off with this painting of a fabulous view from a special place in Tulare County at this stage. Everything remaining to finish falls under the category of Drawing With My Paintbrush.

Whether drawing or painting, I often turn things upside down in order to see the shapes accurately. If things are right side up, our brains talk to us about what we think we see. If we flip things over, we are forced to study the shapes and proportions as they really are. So, this method was helpful in copying the shapes of the mountains correctly.

Next, the valley below needed detailing. I didn’t try to make it exact, because no one cares. (It ain’t the Sierra!)

I added more detail to the closer hills, then put in the oak tree on the right.

Finally, I put more detail and contrast on the rocks.

It isn’t signed because after all the greens dry, there will be some wildflowers. Never miss an opportunity to put in wildflowers!

Sharon’s Suggestion

When I showed my two orchard paintings, Sharon, a real life friend and most active blog commenter, suggested I paint a stonefruit orchard in full spring color.

I told her that those orchards just aren’t in my normal routes.

Then, I went to Fresno for a day. The plums (white blossoms) were finished blooming, but there were some peach orchards still going strong. Since I prefer backroads to the dreaded State Highway 99*, I was able to find a blooming orchard with a shoulder to pull over and take a few photos.

Oops. I was in a hurry. Sitting on the side of the road while traffic blazes past isn’t conducive to careful framing of one’s photographic shots.

There were better orchards, but a ditch separated them from the road. AND, I didn’t think of it at first. Probably should have taken photos on the way to Fres-yes instead of waiting until I was on the way home. Maybe I need a boss.

Pretending that I had a boss who told me to get crackin’, I messed around with the photos and came up with this beginning.

I bet this orchard painting will sell quicker than the walnuts or the olives.

THANK YOU, SHARON!

*99 is said to be the darkest highway and the most deadly of all state highways: a study says “Highway 99, a 424-mile road that runs through the state’s Central Valley, leads the country for most fatal crashes per one hundred miles”. But that doesn’t matter, because we will get a bullet train from Modesto to Bakersfield some time in the next 50 years or so. You should see the stone-henge type concrete supports, complete with graffiti along the route. . . lovely fixtures in Central California for almost a decade now. As I said Friday, California is a special kind of stupid.

Non-painting Topics: a Mental Ramble

This is a bonus post, because I got up too early this morning and have many non-work-related thoughts. No reason, no point, just sharing a mental ramble…

Reading Rabbit, AKA Salt & Light

I just read a memoir (currently my favorite genre) titled “Holy Ghost Girl“. Holy cow, holy guacamole. I believe in the God’s healing power but am very appalled over the mess that these so-called healers make of their lives.

I just listened to a three-part series of sermons by Jack Hibbs on UFOs. Again, all I can say is holy cow and holy guacamole.

These aren’t holy cows. I don’t know what a holy cow actually factually is, other than perhaps the ones that wander the streets of cities in India.

It is raining today, which I hope will prolong the greenery and wildflowers that make March such a fabulously beautiful month in Three Rivers.

The annual studio tour is this weekend. It used to be exclusively a Three Rivers event, happening every 2 years. After it went county-wide, things changed in a manner that caused me to opt out. I hope it is successful for those who are participating, in spite of the rain. I am NOT participating.

This is a fairly outdated image of The Dome, taken as a screenshot from Google Maps.

Kaweah Arts has reopened in the building known as The Dome, 42249 Sierra Drive. I delivered a load of new paintings, along with previously shown paintings, notecards, coloring books, and The Cabins of Wilsonia books, but haven’t been inside the premises yet.

Some dear friends have been through a difficult time recently, so when they said they were bringing lunch over yesterday, we just put everything else aside to enjoy a few hours together on a perfect spring afternoon.

My neuropathy is not from diabetes, chemotherapy, or a back problem. It is time to see a neurologist, not in the Central Valley, and I continue to await the arrival of a referral so I can move onward with this unsolved mystery.

A dear friend has a weird cancer. I hate this. Undoubtedly, she hates it more.

The redbud trees are in bloom in Three Rivers. They look like Chinese tallow, but they are either Western redbud (native), or Eastern redbud (native somewhere else.) Western redbud are shrub-like with many branches originating at ground level; Eastern grow like a tree from a single trunk. Or perhaps Eastern are just pruned that way; maybe Western could be forced into a single trunk tree-like formation. (These are speculations from a sleep-deprived mind.)

Thanks for stopping by.

While the Deer Were Grazing. . .

. . . I was actually painting.

The canvas was finally covered, with good detail in the rock faces. (Not real faces—it is just the way to clarify that I am talking about vertical rocks rather than basic boulders.) I didn’t try to match the scene line for line or space for space. It already is taking w a a a y t o o l o n g. So, I just tried to capture the feel of the place.

The gully/ravine/drop off behind the bank of flowers wasn’t looking separate enough so I darkened the edge. There are still many details to perfect on this painting, but I need to wait until all the green is dry so it doesn’t muck up the colors of wildflowers. You KNOW I will put in more wildflowers. 😎

Time to begin the last oil painting in the queue. It won’t be the last one for the solo show in the fall; it is the final one before I start painting smaller pieces of Mineral King to sell in the summer.

This is a special Tulare County view; it is from a place open by invitation only. We were fortunate/lucky/blessed* enough to receive such an invitation last spring.

It is important that I get the snow-covered Sierra Nevada accurate. Sorting out all the peaks is very time consuming, so I skipped it on this day in order to see some bigger progress.

I had to stop painting because it gets dark at the end of the day, in spite of the time change. (You can’t make a blanket longer by cutting off the bottom foot and sewing it to the top.)

There will be wildflowers. . . thank you for asking.

*Pick your favorite adjective.

Watching Deer or Oil Painting?

It’s kind of hard to focus on painting when this is outside the door.

Apparently, I’m not the only creature to appreciate spring in Three Rivers.

This little herd is just one body short of a baseball team. It looks as if this is a deer park, rather than my lawn. Actually, it isn’t even a lawn; we stopped watering it a decade or more ago. Water costs too much here. I love it green, but I’d have to work more and sell more instead of staring at the deer if I wanted to keep it like this through the summer.

Besides, lawn mowers will be outlawed in California in 2025. . . we don’t want to wear ours out if there can be no replacing it. (California is a special kind of stupid.)

We’ll look at the oil painting aspect of my life in the next post.

Painting Spring in Spring

We had a beautiful spring day before spring arrived. Instead of being out enjoying spring, I was inside painting a picture of spring.

First, I varnished four newly dried paintings.

It was definitely an open-door sort of day.

The view was distracting, but I needed to be focused on the scene on the easel.

This is what remains: details on the distant trees and shrubs; lower section of rock, grasses behind left-side lupine; MORE WILDFLOWERS!

Sigh. I’d like to be out on the trail instead of in the painting workshop. However, the foot trouble has a good side because it keeps me planted in front of the easels when I have many paintings to finish of Tulare County’s prettiest places.

Spring is here in our world of Three Rivers, and it is almost here on the calendar.

Compiling and Amalgamating

Sometimes I see a beautiful scene that just can’t be captured with a single photograph. The light is wrong so the colors come out weird, or there are branches obstructing important views. So, I take as many photos as possible and then put them together in a rough manner using Photoshop Junior. (Photoshop Elements is the “easy version”, in case you are wondering what Photoshop Junior is.)

One spring morning last year, my neighbor and I were walking on a trail above our houses in Three Rivers. I knew it had the makings of a nice painting, but I only had the inferior camera on my phone, and the light was quite low.

I took all these photos anyway. Each one had something going for it, and I hoped that I could patch them together to capture the moment in a believable manner.

After putzing around on Photoshop Junior, I decided that a square format looked best. Using Photoshop is the modern version of doing a “thumbnail sketch”, something art teachers always insisted on but never explained properly (like much of what was required in art classes, heavy sigh.) It is a way to see if all the elements look good together, are the right sizes and in the right places.

This is more of how I want it to look, but the trail is going the wrong direction.

I made the distant hills larger, emphasized the colors, made sure the hills included the landmark Comb Rocks, placed the trail where I wanted, and filled the foreground with wildflowers.

I finally got the photos to fit together in the best possible way. Here is the final painting, still untitled.

Now that’s what I’m talking about! I wonder why it took me so many years to learn to use my computer this way. Must be slow on the uptake. . . certainly not an early adopter of tech. . . plodding. . .the way I’ve always done it.

The Way I Remember It

There is a place near me here in Tulare County that is fantastical for spring-time hiking, particularly in a wet year. The views, green, trees, flowing water, and wildflowers are utter perfection, unless you try to get a good photo. Then, all the beautiful things that you remember end up in different pictures.

What’s an artist to do? Why, use Photoshop Junior, of course! (My attempt is a mess, so I am not going to show you. . . something about watching sausage being made comes to mind here. . .)

I started with the sky, of course, and then began on the most distant hills.

Because the photos are on my laptop, I can make specific areas as large as necessary to pick out the various textures and colors.

I moved across from left to right on those distant hills, and then I decided that the lupine were calling my name.

The final step at the end of the painting session used up various greens on the palette.

I love walking up there. Nope, I’m not giving the location. It really frosts me when people publicize nice quiet local places all over the interwebs and then there is traffic, a parking problem, and too many people. Tell your friends if you want, but WHY do you have to tell the WHOLE WORLD??

The painting isn’t any one exact location up there. This is the way I want to remember the place.

I might want to keep this painting. That has been happening lately; I’ll take it as a good sign.