Ten Items Learned in August

August is a long month, and the new information kept coming, so instead of the usual 7 or 8 items, this month there are 10: Elvis, a couple of books, some poems, and other fascinating facts for you!

  1. Elvis was naturally blond but he dyed his hair black. I read this in Bill O’Reilly’s Killing the Legends, which I didn’t finish because A. I don’t have an interest in celebrities and B. it was very depressing. (Why did I start it? Just normal curiosity, which often leads me to check out books that I don’t finish.)
  2. Trails develop cracks. When the cracks are lateral (running the length of the trail), it means the ground was super saturated and the snow weight was substantial. Repairing such cracks before the trail sloughs away requires some real hard work.
  3. A1C. Ick. Would prefer not to know. Would prefer to live on ice cream. However, I am a responsible adult and have been diligently paying attention to what I consume in order to lower that number before it becomes a problem. Essentially, forgoing sweets simply makes me feel both righteous and perpetually dissatisfied.
  4. The Art of Frugal Hedonism is a fun book, written by two Australians. I didn’t finish this one either, but enjoyed the turn of phrase. (Phooey, wish I had copied a few down to share with you.)
  5. I helped a friend get an extremely heavy piece of black oak for his wordworking hobby. He used some of it to make this turned wooden bowl for me. It is about 6″ in diameter, maybe even 8″. It is perfect to hold my Very Important Items at the cabin.*
  6. That slanted side pocket on Carhartt pants is so that things won’t fall out when you sit down. The tall part of the slant is in the back.
  7. Two little poems about the size of Texas: The sun has riz/The sun has set/And here we is/
    In Texas yet!
    —
    Oh, the distances in Texas aren’t so very far.
    We’ve driven from border to border and only wore out one car!
  8. Did you know there is a trend called “restocking“? It is people repackaging consumable items into pretty containers and arranging everything to be aesthetically pleasing in their pantries, refrigerators, linen closets, etc. Then they film themselves doing this along with the results and post it online. WHY??? Do they expect to get rich and famous? Maybe they ought to learn to do something useful instead, real work, like plumbing or welding.
  9. 105.5 FM is called The Legend and plays classic country music. (I cannot define “classic” but am guessing it means music older than about 10 years, or is it 20. . .?) I think it is based in Fresno. You can play “name that tune”, or “name that artist”, but they don’t seem to have a real DJ to tell you what you have heard or are about to hear. 
  10. At a recent “happy hour” gathering, some friends wanted to supply me with something non-alcoholic to drink (not because I was getting sloppy, but because I don’t drink alcohol). They introduced me to this stuff: Lagunitas Hoppy Refresher. It wasn’t bad; it fits right there with all those sparkly nothing drinks like La Croix.

 

*camera, sunglasses, and keys, if I happened to drive up the hill rather than hitchhike** or go with Trail Guy.

**Just kidding! I often catch a ride with a neighbor heading up, but have never stuck out my thumb.

More Painting to Country Music

Same playlist as before. Same poor singing (on my part). Same kind of day racing by*. New paintings.

I was feeling kind of proud of this one until two different people who saw it asked if it was wildfire. 

I hate HATE HATE wildfire. (Am I being unclear here?)

After studying it, I added some blue to the bottom of the sunset-colored clouds and subdued the clouds a bit.

I relayered the distant hills, relayered the greenery, and then started all those rocks.

This will look better when you see it in person. It is intended for a show in 2024, so I may relayer everything several more times. 

Then I painted some oranges for Exeter’s Mural Gallery.

Finally, I began a painting of my friend Ed’s buffalo herd in Missour-uh, as he pronounces his state. This one is for a show at CACHE in October, as is the painting of the three cattle you saw last week.

I wonder if rock music would cause me to paint faster? 

Nah. Probably not a good idea to listen to things that I find irritating. (But I do love LIttle River Band—has anyone borrowed my CD and not returned it? —and like Toto, Kansas [or maybe it was Boston] and Don Henley.)

*How can all those sad country songs make me feel so happy? Because the music is wonderful!

Cabin Life, Chapter Eighteen

Old Work

A number of years ago (feels like five, so it is probably ten), the head law enforcement ranger in Mineral King decided that the Spring Creek footbridge shouldn’t be installed when the water was splashing onto it because it might be slippery. Never mind that the bridge has a hand rail; never mind that people were building weird little crossings all over the place; never mind that people found where the bridge was stored and dragged it into a precarious position without properly installing it; never mind that crossing became more treacherous with all these make-do solutions.

When Trail Guy worked Maintenance in Mineral King, he was one of the bridge installers each year. In The Year of No Bridge, he, along with some neighbors, decided to bypass the bureaucratic baloney.

This year, the very accommodating and capable trail crew installed the bridge as a thank you to Trail Guy for volunteering so much time to opening the road and repairing the sinkhole.

They rightly assumed that we would be capable of using the handrail if we needed a bit more help while crossing.

More Work

I love to do what I have deemed “waterology”. This means that I direct water off roads and trails whenever I can. I don’t mind standing in icy water, flinging rocks, yanking branches, digging more rocks and mud, and redirecting the water in order to prevent further erosion.

First, we worked on Chihuahua in mid-June. This is usually a nothing-burger of a little trickle. Not this year! Trail Guy and friends built a bridge.

Hiking Buddy and I returned later with a rake and got much of the flow off the trail and road. Chihuahua is just above the pack station, so there is a road almost all the way to it. Shortly after we finished, the very capable and hard-working trail crew filled in the deep crevices on the road made by the raging water.

The next week, Trail Guy and I tackled the problem of Crystal Creek, which was raging down the trail and even creating a pond in the middle of one section of trail.

You will still get your feet wet crossing the very very wide Crystal Creek. Oops: you would if you were allowed to go to Mineral King. I’m sorry for mentioning this.

I just walk through in my trusty All Terrain Crocs.

Yeppers, just standard issue Waterologist footwear.

P.S. I can draw your cabin because. . .

. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

Cabin Life, Chapter Seventeen

More Work

Sequoia National Park is overwhelmed and understaffed. The employees have too much to do in the main section of the park, and Mineral King isn’t high on their list, particularly while closed this summer. They are doing the best they can, but much is overlooked.

That’s okay, Trail Guy and your Central California Artist are on the job!

The four signs directing people to not drive off the bridge fell, due to the heavy snow load. One would think that people would know to stay on the bridge, but there are many safety regulations that must be obeyed by road departments, at least when a bridge is constructed. After that, apparently we are on our own in terms of using some Cowboy Logic.

The wallpaper was peeling.

I got to trim it.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Gravy Moto, Caretakers of Wilderness.

P.S. I can draw your cabin because. . .

. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

Still Interrupting With Painting

. . . to Country Music, again

This time I listened to Steven Wariner (always), Emmy Lou Harris (again), Vince Gill, Michael Martin Murphy (the album that has the Sons of the San Joaquin singing backup on one song), George Strait, and Clint Black. That was the Fastest Day Painting Ever.

This is the middle fork of the Kaweah River in Three Rivers, about 1/2 mile from my house/studio/three cats. The reference photos were taken from a favorite place for trespassing.

 

Cabin Life, Chapter Sixteen

Work

Because Trail Guy lives at our cabin almost fulltime in the summer, he is the go-to person when cabin neighbors need help. It is tricky and expensive to get plumbers and carpenters up the hill, so when Trail Guy is able, he comes to the aid of our friends. If I am around, I often serve as his assistant.

Earlier this summer, we opened a neighbor’s cabin. When we turned on the water, we discovered a leak in the pipe on the left.

The pipe leads to the cold water in the kitchen sink.

It was a hot day, and I knew we’d be working in the sun. Nope, not this little gray duck. I carried an umbrella stand from our cabin and borrowed another neighbor’s umbrella to our site. (That’s correct—our umbrella was harder to transport.)

Trail Guy got out his super-duper tool box, a gift from yet another cabin neighbor (MANY THANK YOUS, LOUISE!)

We removed the window screen in order to undo the faucet, or something. (I just work here. . .)

All this means something to Trail Guy. His explanations haven’t stuck with me.

Finally, the dresser coupling was in place, and the screen was replaced on the window.(“Dresser coupling?” We addressed this in a post last year, which I don’t expect you to remember, so here is the link—see item #2— in case you would like a refresher.)

As I thought over this repair job, something occurred to me: this was a group project. Trail Guy repaired the pipe with: A. My mom supplied the umbrella stand; B. Next door neighbor supplied the umbrella; C. Neighbor next to the leaky pipe supplied the dresser coupling when he cleaned out his attic a few years ago; D. Dear neighbor across the way supplied the tool box. 

And I helped!

P.S. Trail Guy is NOT a plumber nor a carpenter. If you try to hire him, he will say no. 

P.P.S. (that means P.S. #2) I can draw your cabin because. . .

. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

 

Cabin Life, Chapter Fifteen

Cabins 

This post is just general photos of the cabins, some so you can see the settings, some so you can just enjoy them in all their rustic simplicity.

This isn’t a cabin—it is someone’s outbuilding.

P.S. I can draw your cabin because. . .

. . . using pencils, oil paints, and murals, I make art you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

 

Another Interruption About Art

Painting to Country Music

Recently while stuck inside on a very rainy day at the cabin, Trail Guy had to replace the batteries in the radio. That erased the saved stations, and as he was resetting them, he found two classic rock and one classic country station. We entertained ourselves for an evening by hopping around among the three stations, and I was shocked, “SHOCKED”, I say, to realize how many voices, introductions, and songs I not only recognized, but could sing (poorly) to. 

I forgot how much I used to (and apparently still do) love country music. I don’t like the really old stuff and don’t know the new stuff, but the tunes from the ’70s and ’80s float my boat.

When we got home, I dug out a stack of my old CDs*, put them in my stereo (yeah, it is probably “old” too), and started painting while singing (poorly). Doesn’t this seem like an appropriate painting for country music? Here is the progression:

This is from a photo on top of Rocky Hill. At this time of writing, it is untitled.

*Steve Wariner (my absolute forever favorite), Emmy Lou Harris, Suzy Bogguss, Collin Raye, and Skip Ewing. (Only Steve Wariner showed up when Trail Guy and I were playing “Name That Tune”).

And you might be wondering about this: In the category of country, Trail Guy usually guessed Hank Williams Sr. or Johnny Cash, but he excelled at the rock station, whereas I thought most of those songs sounded alike with repetitious screaming guitars and scratchy yelling voices. (They didn’t play Toto or Little River Band, but they did play one Kansas—I love those tight harmonies.)

Another Interruption, This Time for Drawing

 

Once again, we interrupt our broadcast for this drawing.

Ever notice the annoyance of the English language, where a noun and a verb can be exactly the same word? And I didn’t actually mean “broadcast”, because we are in a series of posts about cabin life. This drawing fits the category of cabin life but it isn’t about cabin life; it’s about pencil drawing.

Get on with it, will ya??

An old friend (that seems to be where most of my work comes from, but new friends and young friends are welcome to commission me; even friends I haven’t met yet are welcome here) expressed an interest in a drawing from The Cabins of Wilsonia. 

Alas, it was gone.

We had a few options: 1. Oh well, sorry; 2. Buy another book, Sir, and rip out the page; 3. I can draw it for you again.

My wise friend chose option #3.

Have a look at the original photo that I used.

As always, working from a photo isn’t straightforward copying. Every photo has its indiscernible parts, because real life is messy. 

Because my friend was wanting the drawing from the book, I used that old drawing to help me make decisions. (I didn’t lie: although the original is gone, it’s still on my laptop.)

Then, I thought about it a bit more and decided that I ought to be able to do a better job now. That was 10 years ago, and I was cranking out those 272 (was that really the number??) drawings at a rapid pace. This time, there was no deadline. My friend’s only requirement was specific dimensions to go with another drawing, like a matched set.

Here is the other drawing.

And here is its new partner.

(The difference in darkness has something to do with the computer reproduction, not a change in pencils or pressure on the paper.)

This picnic table appears in the chapter called “Brewer”, which is the name of the road in Wilsonia depicted in that chapter. (I got clever that way.) The funny part is that I could not remember where this photo actually was, and I just put it on Brewer because I thought it looked good with the chaise lounge. 

Apparently my friend thought the same. He has actually had a strong influence over my art career, so this makes sense.

Thank you, DB!