When I look at a finished painting in person, it seems truly finished. This painting signifies the best of Tulare County to me, and I am not always objective.
However, when I look at a photograph of the painting on my screen, sometimes things appear that weren’t all that noticeable in person.
Here is a progression of the untitled painting that is finished, or maybe not.
Tuesday morning overview.
Tuesday morning lower right corner, unfinished.
Wednesday morning lower right corner, finished (but in shade so hard to tell what is what).
May I be finished now? Better put it in the sunshine for a truer color photo.
Now may I sign it, and then paint the edges?
Maybe, maybe not. Better let it mull a bit, study, scrutinize, put on my truth glasses (just a figure of speech) and try to be objective.
Or maybe I should show the customers and see if they think I am finished.
When I paint commissions, I go through stages something like this:
Not sure, but I will try
Piece of cake
What is this mess?
What have I gotten myself into?
I’ve got this.
What is this mess?
Who told me I could paint?
Ooh, I love to draw with my paintbrush!
What is this mess?
Oh my goodness, I think I am going to finish soon!
What is this mess?
Make a harshly honest list and fix those things.
Can’t find another thing to fix, better sign it and get it out of my face before I mess it up.
This was probably about step 8.
Then I hit step 9.
I painted for a morning, repairing all sorts of messes, drawing with my paintbrush. Can you see the improvements?
Now it might be at step #10.
It looks wrong in this light. But you can see that only a small portion in the lower right hand corner remains untouched. I might hit a couple more “What is this mess” stages. I went a little nutso trying to get the highway better, narrowing the driveway at the bottom, detailing the rows of citrus trees more, adding in a few more buildings and tightening up the ones that were there, and planting a couple of new groves. I did not darken the blue mountains but actually lightened them. However, this is not apparent in the poor light of early afternoon photography.
Then I had to quit because my friends were waiting for me to come over and make some more stepping stones.
More remains, but the fat lady will be warming up her vocal cords soon.
This commissioned oil painting is highly detailed, in spite of the fact that it is a landscape. People who see it want to know where it is, where I was when I got my photos, what are they seeing.
It is impossible to put in every single grove, building, road, dirt road, and random tree. I enlarge the photo on my laptop to an astronomical size in order to see what the tiny spots are, decide the main landmarks that would be helpful to the viewer, try to get them in the right place, and then use my tiniest paintbrushes to indicate them.
Can you see the added detail?
Every time I work on this painting, I have to change things that I thought were right.
I am not worried. There is still time to finish and to finish well, believably, and with confidence that this will be my best work.
But maybe I should put more hours into this custom oil painting and stop making stepping stones.
As a professional artist, it is my job to make art. (Once again, thank you Captain Obvious.)
As a hobbyist, once in awhile I also make artsy things for fun.
Mosaic stepping stones are one of those hobby projects. I started this about 20 years ago because our massive yard needed stepping stones. It was so fun that I started selling them. I must have made 10 dozen, and the more I made, the more tiles appeared in my life.
I could stretch this into a series of posts, showing old photos, explaining the process, photographing them around my yard, along with other mosaic projects.
Nah. Let’s just look at the current crop.
First I gather the supplies, then start arranging the pieces and cementing them in place. Sometimes I have companionship.
Dark gray grout really makes the color pop. I bought it because it was the only color available, and the bag has lasted and lasted and lasted.
I keep thinking that I will run out of tiles or grout pretty soon. I sure hope I have enough grout to finish these last four. But then I will still have tiles, so I will have to buy more adhesive, forms and grout.
Whenever we have a lean winter, Trail Guy gets ahead of the calendar and tries to start the summer season. He went to Mineral King, spent a few chilly days, and came home again.
I stayed quite busy with work and life, while it was still beautifully springlike in Three Rivers. Plus, I got to see the photos, and now you do too. (Appropos* of nothing, that yarn would probably match the now finished Dutch iris.)
According to Trail Guy, also a huge fan of wildflowers, there were fabulous poppies in the burned areas along the road.
*Apropos is pronounced “aa-pruh-poe” and is French for “in regards to” or “with respect to”. It means that one is inserting a non sequitur, which is Latin for “it does not follow”. You’re welcome.
This is the best photograph I was able to get of the Fiftieth Bouquet. (It just occurred to me that I may not have actually titled the painting!) I was able to eliminate the shiny spots but cropped the left side a bit. One of the things that is always pounded in all art advice workshops, classes, books, and websites is to hire a professional photographer for one’s work.
Fall down laughing.
That might work for people who just complete one painting a month and then sell it for $5000 or $50,000, but that is not the way things work for this Central California artist. So, I bumble along with my PHD* camera. (My more expensive cameras have broken so I no longer waste money on them.)
I also inched along a bit more on my favorite subject.
Can’t wait to get back to this one, but then I will finish and have to say goodbye to it.
Life is a series of decisions, choices and consequences.
Last weekend began with setting up the for the Redbud Festival on Friday, taking photographs of how everything fit together, then packing all the merchandise into boxes and moving it inside the Memorial Building for the night.
On Saturday morning, I went to a memorial service for the father of a dear friend. It was a bit of a reunion, but instead of hanging around with old pals, I jetted off to Arts Visalia to teach a drawing workshop.
I was sort of hoping that no one would sign up so that I could just hang around with my old buddies, but a few days before, 4 people signed up. When I arrived at the gallery, I learned there were 6 participants. Then I learned that the drawing pencils were no longer in the closet in the workshop room. Well, oops.
So, the gallery director got a short list together, disappeared for about 45 minutes, and reappeared with some drawing pencils. We made do with the other supplies I had brought along, and the class of 6 was a compatible, enjoyable, personable group who did very well!
Redbud, indoor booth in 2017
Meanwhile, some friends were working our shared booth at the Redbud Festival. The show organizer called me at the end of the drawing workshop to ask if I was okay with leaving all my merchandise outside overnight underneath the patio overhang where we were situated. I thought that the overnight security sounded secure, so I agreed. That way my friends wouldn’t have to take it down, pack it up and schlep it all inside, nor would I need to reverse the process on Sunday morning.
This is how it looked before the beautiful slab furniture, felted purses, knitted hats, and tie-dyed baby clothes were added. The tables looked great sitting beneath the paintings, and the colorful fabric items were on a table to the left.
Redbud Festival hasn’t happened for 2 years, and this year it was organized at the last minute. We no longer have a newspaper in town, and there are so many methods of communication that it is a wonder anyone can learn anything at all. As a result, there weren’t many vendors, and not many visitors, but this allows for longer conversations with the visitors and opportunities to get to know the other vendors a bit more than usual.
I walked to the Memorial Building on Sunday morning and learned that sales were steady on Saturday. Sales were slower on Sunday, but also steady. The number of packages of cards that sold was astonishing, particularly since they are now $10 a package. I joked that next year I will just rent one square foot and bring my card spinner. Yes, paintings sold, but they require the screens, which makes the set-up and break-down quite time-consuming, and I get a little bit older every year. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.)
Breaking down the show was the easiest it has ever been. Because we were on the patio, I simply lifted everything up to the driveway, with the Botmobile very close at hand and Trail Guy there to use his master packing skills.
The screens almost blew over on Saturday. Someone had some rope and tied the whole apparatus to the vertical pole.
Now, I need to get some new paintings done to sell at Silver City Resort. Chopchop!
My yard is huge, and these represent little dots of color, scattered all around. It is not like some classic English garden, or as if everything is perfectly placed and professionally landscaped. But oh my goodness, I do love me some flowers.
P.S. This post comes to you after a very full busy weekend. I will tell you a bit about it later this week. Now, hold it down, will ya? I want to take a nap.
After obsessing over the wildflowers on the hillside behind my house, I headed to the painting workshop to paint some of my own wildflowers.
But wait! There are other flowers in bloom in the yard, and they also deserve attention. I picked some Lemon Geranium to put in a vase near my work station, because it keeps mosquitos away. (in theory)
Wait! I can’t work on that piece today. It doesn’t have the tight deadline that the Redbud Festival is pressurizing me with. IT IS TOMORROW, 10-5 at the Three Rivers Memorial Building and SUNDAY, 10-4.
Get to work, Central California artist! Chopchop.
I love this view of Franklin Creek, at the upper crossing, below the dam.
Mineral King Wildflowers, 6×18″, oil on wrapped canvas, $165 (plus that pesky California sales tax).
Then I finished this 6×6″ poppy.
I have more finished little paintings for the Redbud Festival but you might have to go to the show to see them.
Maybe I’ll show you those other flowers in the yard on Monday’s post. Or maybe I will tell you that I sold everything at the Redbud Festival. Or maybe nothing will have sold and I will invite you to a bonfire.
I stayed quite busy with work and life, while it was still beautifully springlike in Three Rivers. Plus, I got to see the photos, and now you do too. (Appropos* of nothing, that yarn would probably match the now finished Dutch iris.)
