Sunny January Day in Three Rivers

On a sunny January day, we went for a stroll, and I took a few photos with my inferior phone camera. I really don’t need any more photos, but one never knows if the light will be the best it has ever been. If I was more motivated, I would have taken some paints, a tripod, a palette, and a pochade box. Then the walk would have been a business trip. Nah, too much gear—I would have needed to drive and missed out on the exercise.

The walk was a time for contemplating matters of consequence along with enjoying the ability to see beautiful sights while soaking some rays*. In retrospect, it was an important time of peace because when we got home, we received two unwelcome pieces of news.

Two people in our lives died: one was unexpected, an important person in our lives; the other was expected, an important person to people I care very much about. The ability to enjoy being mobile and vertical, see familiar and beautiful sights, and absorb some sunshine . . . so many people, particularly of our parents’ generation, are dropping. . . kind of hard to form complete sentences around this.

*Has anyone else noticed that people no longer just drink water? Now, they “hydrate”. Is it possible to just enjoy sunshine anymore or do we all have to “get our vitamin D”? Is it all those ridiculous commercials on teevee which try to turn us into pharmacists who “ask our doctors” about various medicines, or into nutritionists prescribing forty-eleven supplements that will allow us to all live as 20-year-olds indefinitely? Tiresome stuff.

My People

Today’s post is long, lots of words for a subject I have pondered for over three decades. It might fall into the category of Too Long, Didn’t Read. If talk about art business bores you, please come back tomorrow. If you make it through to the end, you truly are My People. If not, I hope you will rejoin My People tomorrow!

An important question to ponder when considering one’s next step in the business of art.

In an ongoing conversation with an artist friend who is working hard to build up her art business, several things came up. I told her that much of what I have tried through the years either didn’t work, or it is now irrelevant and out of date. After the 30+ years of building an art business, my main takeaway is a very valuable and hard to earn item: local name recognition. I know My People and My People know me.

When in a quandary in life or in business, sometimes it helps to go eat some ice cream.

List of No Mores

I spent years trying many avenues of marketing; here is a very long list of things I now simply say “No, thank you” to.

  • People want to borrow our work and not buy it. When someone says “It’s great exposure”, in an effort to get artists to participate in something that will take time, expense, and effort, I say no thanks. A person can die of exposure.
  • No more giving away my work (unless it is an organization I support). It never resulted in any sales, and one year I actually gave away more than I sold. (Another artist friend told me, “Oh, I just give my junk that no one will buy”. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What does that do for an artist’s reputation??)
  • No more shows with entry fees. It costs to make the art, deliver it, and then retrieve it; IF the piece sells, the show organizers keep a percentage.
  • No juried shows—my work is rejected more than accepted. Most often these are juried by folks from cities who do not value realism. These are not My People. I’m looking for sales, not ribbons. (I did very well in the Ag Art show in Madera for a handful of years; then when their entry fees went up, they shrunk the number of categories, and gas became so very expensive, I said “NO MAS!”)
  • No traveling for art fairs—my work is locally based, and there is no point in chasing down new markets with new subjects which don’t speak to My People. Entry fees, time away from home, equipment to set up, producing art that is specific only to that area, travel costs, being unknown in that city—none of this seems like a prudent use of time, treasure, and talent.
  • No more chasing internet stuff—it takes hours (and hours and hours and hours. . . ) of engagement on FB, Etsy, Instagram, Pinterest, to build a name and get sales; then, those platforms can mess with the with internet magic and cut off your followers. I tried all of those, and concluded that my time was better spent actually making art while communicating with My People through real life, snail mail, emails, email newsletters, and of course this blog, followed by tens (people I know, bless your little hearts!)
  • No galleries that keep 50% (or more), are far away, and can stuff your work in a closet or take a powder in the middle of the night.
  • No reproducing my work other than on cards; if the original doesn’t sell, why would the reproductions?
  • No framing my work; people’s tastes vary widely, it increases the cost of the work, and it ties up money in something that requires care and special handling.
Ducks don’t ever think about these matters of consequence.

Exceptions

There are many many exceptions to these rules. They are not etched in stone, and I break them occasionally without expecting any results except satisfaction that maybe I helped someone.

The day after I sent this list to my friend, I got a request from a local nonprofit gallery seeking more art to fill up a group show opening in two days. I called my friend who quickly chose 2 of her paintings along with one of mine which happened to be handy. She delivered, attended the reception, and will go pick up the work when the show is finished. (I have no illusions about selling my one piece.)

My People

My audience is local people, real people I know or have met or who know people I know, people who appreciate this place and my style of painting and drawing. They are people who say things like, “I don’t know anything about art but I know what I like.” They want to work with and buy from someone who makes art they understand, and often custom subjects that mean something to them. They want to work with someone who will listen to them and help them figure out what they want, not confuse them with ArtSpeak or make them feel stupid. My People!

So, my efforts go into making my work the best it can be, pouring myself into my drawing lessons (I LOVE MY STUDENTS!), representing Tulare County to help My People hold their heads up, living here in California’s fly-over country.

I use pencils, oil paints, and murals to make art people can understand of places and things they love for prices that won’t scare them. I make art for My People!


Finished with Studio Paintings

This was commissioned by a lady who saw my painting called “Rocky Hill Reunion” at the show in the fall. It was sold, and she asked me to paint it again for her. Of course I said yes. (The last solo show I had at this location resulted in my saying yes FIVE times to the SAME PAINTING! – Lots of Sawtooth, Almost Finished, so I did a #7, which sold in December of this year.)

This one is a little bit bigger than the previous version, and I simply titled it “Moo”.

You are probably curious about the previous version, which I titled “Rocky Hill Reunion”.

And this one is called Tulare County’s Best II, 24×24″, $1800 (There, Krista, see? I raised my price!)

Studio paintings: slow, careful, no rush, no plein air pressure to finish in one sitting (standing) and leave much looking as if you need a new prescription in your eyeglasses.

Plein Air in the Painting Workshop

After Krista and I spent an afternoon painting at the lake (Lake Kaweah), we spent a fair amount of time discussing plein air painting. She sent me a couple of short instructional videos, and I ended up as confused as always, still wondering if I would ever be able to produce decent paintings outside of the studio. I also wondered if any of the paintings I produce in the studio (painting workshop —just a big multi-purpose room) are any good, after I watched those videos. Sigh.

So, I set up the lake painting on an easel in the painting workshop, with the plan to follow the recommendation of one of those instructional videos. The painter said to divide a painting into foreground, middle ground, and background. Pick one (preferably the mid-ground) for your detail. The other sections need to stay less defined.

The way it ended after the plein air session.

This was a bit of a struggle for me because all the parts of this painting seem equally important to me. Finally I decided that the painting would be focused on the river.

I started painting my usual way—from furthest to closest—meaning sky first, then distant mountains, moving forward.

It was too hard to put those rocks in the river with the shadows and reflections, painting wet-into-wet. So, now Alta Peak, Moro Rock, and all the hills and distant trees, along with the lower right corner are blurry.

This needs to be revisited by some better brushes, colors, and attitude. (I’m tryna learn to paint this way, but just not feelin’ it!)

Meanwhile, Krista finished her piece in her studio. After she sent this to me, we talked on the phone and I made a few suggestions, which she implemented. Fall down laughing, as if I know how to improve on other people’s plein air paintings!

Plein Air at the Lake

Krista was willing and able to meet me at the lake (Lake Kaweah in Three Rivers) to plein air paint, the very next day after Trail Guy and I walked on the lake bottom.

Gear management is one of the most difficult aspects of plein air painting. What do you actually need? Paint, brushes, oil, paper towels, a palette, a way to prop up your canvas (currently I use a pochade box made from a cigar box and a tripod), a stool to sit on or to rest your stuff, and a way to transport it all.

None of my stuff is ideal, because the best set-ups cost up to $1000. Not worth it for someone who doesn’t really enjoy this method of painting and doesn’t paint well enough this way to recoup the costs.

The little red wagon was helpful, but it was downhill to our location so it kept rolling into the back of my legs. Oh well, sometimes there are little annoyances in life that have to be overlooked. We parked the wagon off the road in the mud, did a sketch, then walked farther to do another sketch, knowing no one would bother our painting gear.

The first sketch was the best, so we returned to the wagon and set up.

The light was changing, as it does. But I’m learning to just flow with it, knowing that my painting won’t look good until I finish it in the painting workshop at home.

It was helpful to paint with Krista, to discuss colors and values and to encourage one another.

The time went quickly, and when the shade came over us, it got COLD.

Good enough. Needs work. Duh. Brrrr. One last photo, then I’m outta here.

Krista and I discussed finishing the paintings at home; she wondered how many people do it that way. It seemed that while I was in Monterey, most people finished the paintings on location. But in Plein Air magazine, 80-90% of the paintings shown say “plein air/studio”, indicating that the painters were not able to turn out work in one outdoor session.

Back in the parking lot (it was much easier to pull the little red wagon uphill than have it bashing into my legs going downhill), we ran into my very good friends (another great thing about Three Rivers). They came to walk the dog and fly a kite.

Now I have the song “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” from Mary Poppins looping endlessly in my head.

Conclusion: A good time of painting with Krista, another humbling admission that plein air painting doesn’t seem to work for me, but also that I will continue to try. Like taking vitamins, you can’t tell if it is really doing anything, but you continue, just in case.

A Walk on the Lake Bottom

Trail Guy and I went to Lake Kaweah— “The Lake” —for a walk. It was a crystal clear day.

All I know is Moro Rock and Alta Peak, not the snow-covered mountains on the left.
The river was reflecting the sky, and Castle Rocks are peeking behind on the distant right side.
The last time we walked at the lake, the road was entirely buried in sand, several feet thick. It has taken awhile, but finally the road has been cleared, but not all the way.
Mustard is the earliest wildflower in the foothills.
Cockleburs are horrible. I think they are native to this area. They don’t mind getting drowned each year—it seems to be what causes them to thrive.
This is looking downstream toward the dam. The lake is very low, to make room for the winter rains and spring snowmelt, always a situation we hope takes place.
This isn’t a very pretty walk, but the blue of the river takes the edge off of all that grayish brown.
This is where we turned around. After studying it for awhile, we concluded that the lake is slowly filling up.
When heading back to the parking lot, it occurred to me that this could be a nice place to do a little plein air painting.

Stay tuned! I might do some painting here soon with my friend Krista who needs to do a few examples of plein air painting in order to qualify for a job. Like me she is a studio painter, but unlike me, she wants to expand into plein air. I have more experience at it than she does, so I can help her, we can hang out together, and maybe one day, I will actually improve my plein air skills in spite of my less than stellar attitude about it.

Drawing With a Friend

A long time drawing student who has become a friend hit a metaphorical speed-bump in life. Her body has betrayed her; one of the symptoms is weakness and a tremor in her dominant hand. We’re not going to talk about diagnosis or the emotional wallop, only about our time together drawing. She is without a doubt the best student I have ever had.

When she stopped coming to lessons, she had 2 drawings that were almost finished. People who don’t draw, or who don’t draw as well as she does, might have thought the drawings were finished.

She asked if I would finish the drawings for her. My first thought was that I would be happy to help her in any way, and of course I would finish the drawings. After thinking more, I proposed that we work on the drawings together. She could do the parts that she is able to do, and then she could tell me exactly what else she would like to be done.

It was just like drawing lessons, except this time she was doing the instructing, and I was following the instructions. After many years of drawing together, this went like clockwork; we were like a well-oiled machine.

Almost three hours flew by, and these two drawings are the result.

Breakfast Blossoms
Steppin’ Up

Tulare County’s Best

Whenever I have a show, no matter how many pieces sell, I bring home the rest and wonder why they didn’t sell. Then I think about the ones I’ve had the longest, pieces that I have improved on each time I show them again. How can I make these pieces better?

I did this scene as an 8×10 to test it out. It was the beginning of my phase of painting orange groves with hills and snow-covered mountains, which coincided with my beginning forays into plein air painting. This type of scene embodies the best parts of Tulare County—rural, citrus, foothills, snowy Sierra.

Tulare County’s Best, 8×10″

It was fun, but of the quality that caused my dearest and closest (and most honest) folks to ask if I was finished with it. So, I touched it up again, and it Is better. But it still hasn’t sold.

Tulare County’s Best, 8×10″

In spite of this little painting’s lack of success, I still love this scene. I painted it again, this time 24×24″. (Sometimes I actually do paint what I love instead of just what I think might sell.)

Tulare County’s Best II, 24×24″, NFS*

Now we’re cooking with gas! Brighter colors this time, because as I develop my skills and “voice” as a painter, I gain more freedom to exaggerate and embellish (but within reason, because I am still a leading citizen of Realville).

Three shows in good galleries (well, come on, I know this is Tulare County, so they are non-profit galleries rather than big city pushy money-hungry galleries) and it hasn’t found a home.

Think, think, think, AHA!

First, let’s try a little better living with technology, and tiptoe into the AHA. Using Photoshop Junior, I combined Tulare County’s Best II with a detail from a more recent painting of the same genre.

What do you think now? (almost said, “How do you like them apples?”)

Yeppers, Tulare County’s Best will get even better.

*NFS means Not For Sale, because it isn’t finished yet.

Oops, I Forgot, Chapter Five

The idea was to show you all the paintings in my solo show at CACHE, one per day here on the blog, for the duration of the show. But, I forgot to show you all the paintings of Three Rivers! Today’s painting is the final in the “Oops, I Forgot” series.

MISSING PAINTING #5

Rachel’s Lake View, oil on wrapped canvas, 20×24″, $1300

It is available on my website store. Here is the link and the price here includes sales tax. (If you live out of state and want to buy the painting, just email me and I’ll sort it out for you.)

This painting is from a perfect photo taken by my friend and drawing student, Rachel on the way home from her job in Three Rivers. Lake Kaweah, Kaweah Lake, I never remember the real name, because around here we simply call it The Lake.