The previous posts were Green and Orange, so I decided to shake things up by calling this one “Orange and Green”.
I spent a few hours painting one sunny afternoon while a hummingbird went bonkers inside the workshop, refusing to leave. He buzzed and buzzed, while Jackson talked and talked to him, talked to me about him, and finally gave up.
This excitement didn’t interfere too much with my ability to concentrate, but I did lose interest after finishing 4 poppies. Then I smeared a bit of paint on the oranges before quitting entirely.
The 6×6 and 8×8 poppies are commissions, so there is incentive to get them finished. The other pieces are just for general inventory, so no one is clamoring for them. No shows are scheduled, and it is nice outside. I have some knitting projects, the weeds are going nuts, and maybe, just maybe, I am lazy.
P.S. Instead of being “lazy”, I decided that I am just be tired.
The daylight was waning when I got the poppy paintings to this point.
I don’t like to waste paint. Life was full of unexpected and urgent interruptions while I was working on these paintings, and I didn’t know when or if I would get back to painting before my palette was ruined. There are ways to keep the paint fresh, but it is never as good as when I first squeeze out.
Instead of wrapping it up and hoping for the best, I decided to use it up.
The photo shows a tangle of leaves but I can redesign those when I work on this painting again.
Green and Orange are secondary colors. They are mixed from the primary colors, red, blue and yellow. This is my palette before I started some new green and orange paintings. Instead of two yellows, I used three this time, because I had them all and they made mixing the right colors a bit quicker.
This is layer number one on a 6×6″ and an 8×8″ canvas.
More details are needed, and you can see that the color photographs in a murky fashion by the late afternoon light. This is the 8×8″.
Same same here on the 6×6. More details, weird color at the end of the day.
These are the mailboxes around my very sittable yard. When sitting, I notice things that need to be clipped, pruned, dug, or pulled. So I jump up and get tools from the nearest mailbox.
Writing notes is now a rarity; people switched to phone calls, then email, and finally texting, where punctuation, complete sentences, and spelled out words are an oddity. (“The word is ‘before’, not B4. Around here we speak English, not Bingo.”)
Consider these reasons for writing:
It makes people feel good.
No one has ever cherished an email or a text.
Mail is fun.
You can practice your writing skills.
You can practice your penmanship.
It gives our wonderful postal carriers purpose.
It makes gratitude tangible.
You can use my notecards.
Sometimes people will email a response or even write a note back to you.
It acknowledges the fact that someone did something for you that wasn’t required.
When I first started my art business, notecards quickly became a huge part. Packaging the cards was sometimes a family project, with my parents (I had 2 parents back then) and a few friends pitching in (most moved away—can you blame them?)
The packages had 2 each of 5 designs, and they sold for $5 a package.
Times have changed. (Duh, I know.)
Now packages have 4 designs, all the same, for $10. Further, I make no profit if I sell them wholesale, so I only sell them directly or have a few stores with the cards on consignment.
Visalia Landmarks (missing one picture—I think it was End of the Trail)
Before I started my art business, notecards were a side hustle. I worked in a print shop, so it was easy to get cards printed. The printshop was in Visalia, so it was easy to distribute card packages to a variety of stores.
Tulare County Landmarks covered Lindsay, Visalia, Exeter, Porterville, and Tulare
Times change. Email came along and people gradually lost the habit of writing notes by hand. Some people still buy cards, mostly from me in person or on the internet, because almost all the shops that sold my cards have closed.
Backcountry Structures
Instead of variety packs, I began packaging the cards with all the same design. This eliminated the need for a label on the top or an insert showing the pictures inside. Instead of having to print 500 or 1000 cards of each design in order to hold costs down, it is now possible to print 100 (or even fewer) at a time.
Sequoia National Park (missing a picture – what was it??)
The printing process is now computerized instead of mechanical. I email my designs to a local printer and only go there in person to pick up the finished product. Other designs get sent via the World Wide Web to some unknown printer in some unknown location, and I can order as few as 10 of a design.
California Missions – missing San Juan Bautista and San Luis Rey
Instead of selling them resale, I now allow a handful of trusted places to sell them on consignment. Although consignment is a nuisance, it is better than not having them in the public eye. Consignment is the only method that makes cents, because my costs are too high to make a profit selling them wholesale. (“Sense”, I know—couldn’t resist.)
Kings Canyon National Park (missing a picture—what was it?)
It takes a lot of time checking the inventory, restocking and trying to keep track of what has sold, what has and hasn’t been paid for, making and remaking lists for the vendors. Sometimes a vendor puts a sticker on with the sales tax, sometimes a sticker without the tax. When they decide a certain design isn’t selling, I replace it with another design and then have to repackage the cards with irrelevant stickers. It isn’t horrible, but it certainly isn’t profitable either.
Sequoia National Park—something is missing but I don’t know what it isSpecial Mineral King set as a fundraiser for the Mineral King Preservation SocietyMineral King—what was the 5th picture?
I didn’t go. Trail Guy and the Farmer went for a day. Here are three photos for you, along with a peculiar sight.
That is the Honeymoon Cabin. (If I painted it this way, no one would buy it in the summer.)
This is the Crowley family cabin with Farewell Gap in the background. The snowy lump to the right is Big Rock.
This is a Trackster. (I think we have outgrown ours and are now willing to sell it. Are you or someone you know interested?)
Finally, here is a peculiar sight. When Trail Guy handed me his camera to put the photos on my computer, I said, “Did you mean to take a photo of a snow doughnut??”
Remember Peculiar Sights? I used to post peculiar sights as a regular feature on the blog, but somewhere along the way, I either stopped noticing or everything became normal.
The photos from Mineral King were taken in late August and early September, obviously pre-fire; I have been waiting for awhile to gather enough peculiarities to put together a blog post.
This little concrete building is the object of much speculation in Mineral King. One day someone is going to tell us what it was for and then we will know. It is up to the older generations to pass on their knowledge and up to the younger generations to keep track.
2. Yes, that is a cat. I was stunned. After I confessed to a possible Cat Disorder, the cat man graciously allowed me to take this photo. (A trailhead ranger turned them around – pets are not allowed in the National Parks on trails or in the backcountry).
3. This dog was just covering trail as if it had the right to be there. It wasn’t until I looked at my photo that I saw he was wearing socks. (Also turned back by the trailhead ranger).
4. Can you see the cat tail below the sparkly skirt? Is this peculiar, or is it the fact that this little bitty trooper walked 9.5 miles (and then wrestled with her brother and rode her bike when she got home)?
5. I don’t know what this is, which is what makes it peculiar. It is in Orange Cove, photographed in February of last year.
6. This is no longer a peculiar sight; turkeys run amuck daily in our yard (counted 36 on a march last week), but at the time, the scene struck me as something worth photographing.
7. This deer has an additional spike (look closely).
8. Excuse me??
And thus we conclude a look into some of the more strange scenes of my little world as a Central California artist.
Not all the changes are bad. Now it costs the same whether I print a pencil drawing or one with a bit of color.
