Plein Air Painting in Monterey, Day 2

After a fight with my stupid french easel on Day 1, a lovely lady lent me a pochade box, or maybe it is a box easel. All I had to do was find a tripod to set it on. “All I had to do”. . . ahem.

The talking lady on the phone directed me about 8 miles to a shopping center in another town, where I checked at Michael’s (no tripods, only the same shoddy kind of easel that I already own), and then at BestBuy. Turns out that camera easels are inadequate, so I left empty-handed.

The talking lady then directed me to Old Fisherman’s Wharf, where I found a pay-to-park lot, saw too many cars and people but recognized no one, so instead of painting, I went in search of a sad little house.

“A sad little house?” you are probably asking.

Yeppers. One of my drawing students has a photo of a certain house in Pacific Grove that he just loves. I found it without the help of the talking lady (because I had looked at a real map in advance and this time kept a sense of direction) and took many photos for him. That redeemed the morning.

However, I came here to paint so that I can learn to paint better, not run around on useless shopping errands and chase down photos of houses. So, I settled in at the little lodge where I am staying to practice using the new-to-me pochade box while finishing a painting from yesterday.

It was time to field-test the new set-up. I drove around the peninsula, hoping to get a good view of the Point Pinos lighthouse, but alas, it was closed and fenced off. So much beautiful rocky coastline to choose from, so I found a spot, PARALLEL PARKED (YEA ME!!), and gathered my gear.

This spot will do quite nicely.

Because the pochade box has no tripod, I have to schlepp a little stool along to sit on in order to hold the box on my lap.

Enough already. I can finish this later. I want to go down to beach now!

Yesterday I was surprised by the lack of shells on the beach. Today I discovered why there aren’t any at the Asilomar Beach—they are all in this little cove!

Am I learning to paint better? Am I getting better at plein air? People say nice things about my paintings, but they are all so very encouraging and genuinely nice that it’s hard to know if they mean it.

Mostly so far I have simply struggled with my gear. Wednesday we will be going to 2 different places, both slightly hard to get to, requiring car pooling and some “hiking”. I put that in quotes because of so much hiking experience in Mineral King, but this may prove to be more difficult than expected due to my poor gear management. As always, more will be revealed. . .

Plein Air Painting in Monterey, Day 1

On Day 1, we stayed at Asilomar. People needed to get accustomed to their equipment, the schedule, the weather, the whole situation, so it made sense to stay on the premises, which are walking distance to the ocean.

Our room is so tiny that I am keeping my supplies in the trunk of the car. After assembling what I thought would be useful for the morning painting session, I headed to the beach. My easel is heavy and cumbersome, so when I saw this, I thought it might be a good place to paint.

But the ocean was calling me, so I soldiered onward.

Is that PEBBLE BEACH, the fancy golf course over there??

After walking around a bit, taking a few photos, and thinking about the options, I did one quick sketch to confirm my choice.

Next, I wrestled with my heavy, rebellious excuse of an easel, finally getting it situated.

Here is a series of progression photos.

The painting was interspersed by conversation with passersby and other painters. We were told that it is best to not look at other people’s work while painting because it causes discontent and do-overs. As a result, there was much joking about wiping off canvas and starting again after seeing other’s efforts.

Painters were set up all along the beach.

The painting session was also interrupted by occasional walks into the water.

The kelp was very thick, and although I didn’t see a single shell, I did encounter this jellyfish.

I took one final useless photo, thinking it would show me the scene in order to finish the painting later. Alas, it was too bright out to see the screen of the camera, hence the “useless” description.

I didn’t really like my painting, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it better and it was hot. Didn’t matter, because this is all about practicing and learning. So, I headed to the other spot that I had chosen in the morning. It was in the shade, rather chilly, which was a nice change. An employee of Asilomar stopped by where several of us were setting up to remind us of the “excessive heat warning”. I almost fell down laughing but managed to restrain myself.

I’m liking this one and will definitely finish it later. I even got one final useful photo because I was able to see the screen of the camera. (Okay, not so useful. You can see how the light changes over the course of 2 hours.)

However, I am wondering where to buy a new easel and if I can find a trash can large enough to accommodate this sorry excuse of a plein air easel.

More will be revealed. . .

Travel Thoughts

Today (writing on Sunday night) I drove 242 miles to Asilomar, a conference center on the Monterey Peninsula for Fall Color Week, a private painting retreat with PleinAir Magazine’s Publisher Eric Rhoads and about 100 strangers. I got lost on the way, because it is sometimes nay, always tricky to both navigate and drive. I couldn’t get the talking lady to work, couldn’t find myself on a map, so I just resorted to commonsense, kept my sense of direction, and here I am.

Traveling by car means space isn’t very limited. I am used to traveling light, doing without, and making do, but this time I just kept adding things as I thought of them. More shoes, more pants, another sweater, another tool, another book, on and on and on. Ridiculous.

First impressions: beautiful building, long line, friendly people in line.

A friend polished my headlights and then helped me wash Fernando the day before I left. Didn’t matter, we were still shown very little respect on the freeways. Why is it that going 70 in a 65 still brings tailgating and contempt? I may have been imagining the contempt part. . .

This is the Stuck-Up Inn, where my room is.

This is a drive I’m not used to, (duh, I got lost) so the scenery was interesting. Why are there no boats on the San Luis Reservoir? What will happen to all the orchards of dead almond trees? Those golden hills against the blue sky would sure be worth painting, but there is no place to turn off the highway. Why is there so much litter? Where are all these people going?

The beach is walking distance

I have been to Asilomar before. About 15 years ago, a friend and I came to Monterey for the Big Sur marathon (we walked the 9-miler) and then we came here so I could gawk at these beautiful Craftsman style buildings, designed by Julia Morgan. Wow.

The dining hall (great food so far).

One thing that was a little worrisome was rooming with a stranger. No problem! Liesl and I are immediately compatible. . . she was very relieved that I get up early in the morning, and I echo that relief. The room is very small, so it won’t be easy to tiptoe around. She might go out painting first thing; I most likely will go for a walk (THE BEACH!!)

The backside of the room where we registered.

Monday morning we will be painting close to the conference grounds so we can get used to packing our gear and learning to use it. All the people are very genuinely friendly, and many have participated in these events before.

A quick stroll down to the beach after dinner.

So, I will be posting whenever I can find time and have something to show you.

The grounds have good walkways and adequate lighting. HOWEVER, all the buildings look alike, the lanes are curvy, and it is a confusing place of 107 acres. I’ll get it figured out this week.

Back to Mineral King: Two Gentle Walks

Along the Nature Trail

The recreation restrictions were lifted, so Hiking Buddy and I took a stroll down the Nature Trail, where some fall colors were beginning to show (this was last weekend).

Up to Crystal Creek

We also took a walk across the bridge (oh my, how my walks have shrunk this year), past the pack station, and up to the much diminished Crystal Creek.

Heading Home

Driving home, we were stopped around the Conifer Gate because there were lots of tree-fallers at work. The 3-man crew on road closure duty was from Tennessee, and it was delightful to talk to them.

The next crew on the lower end of the tree-falling segment was from Montana, also delightful.

We made sure to tell all of these guys to be sure to drive to the end of the road, and also to have lunch at the Silver City Store.

So, after a three week interruption, we return to the normally peaceful and beautiful fall season in Mineral King.

But not me. I’m heading to Monterey for a week-long plein air painting retreat. I will be reporting on this radical new adventuresome opportunity next week. These are photos I took in 2009 when a friend and I went snooping around Asilomar, a fabulous conference grounds with buildings designed by Julia Morgan.

Back to Mineral King: This and That

The parking lot was empty on Saturday morning, because the restrictions on the road and on recreation weren’t officially lifted until 10 a.m. Most people didn’t learn of the restriction removal until the end of the day on Friday. This doesn’t really make it easy for people to plan for the weekend, but the Park is in charge, and we are not.

It was so nice to see Timber Gap again.

This cabin might actually be repaired before winter.

The wood was a regular sight; many trees were dropped and bucked up along the road, due to a contracted tree removal crew.

It felt good to swing an ax; we burned quite a bit of wood because it was chilly in the evenings and the mornings.

Here’s another sign of neglect. Literally.

Ranger Mary was lonely at the Ranger station. Backcountry permits are set up on the porch for self-registration now.

Tomorrow: two gentle walks.

Back to Mineral King: The Road

On Friday, September 20, we headed up the hill. The Park restrictions were still in place, so we made sure we were on the road during the permitted hours, which were quite illogical. Whatever. They are in charge; we are not. We only met 3 vehicles, all part of a construction crew on a cabin.

That pink stuff was all along the road, mostly on the uphill side. It is fire retardant called “borate”. The idea was to widen the road as a barrier to fire, should it climb up to the road.

Follow the pink road.

This is the view upcanyon, just above Lookout Point. The fire made it to Lookout and then crossed the road a bit, but we didn’t stop to figure out the particulars. We only stopped to chat with the Park employee, on loan from some Southern California park, to be sure that she made an opportunity to drive to the end of the road.

You can see borate across the canyon, along with swaths of burned areas.

The road is in terrible shape. No surprise, that. The air was clear and clean and it was a great relief to arrive at our cabin.

More tomorrow. . .

Navels in the Orchard

Navels in the Orchard is actually just navels on canvas, another oil painting of Tulare County citrus.

I painted the details working from the back to the front, which means first I painted the items which are the farthest away from the viewer.

Usually I wait until the painting is dry to photograph it. But look at the weather —the sun wasn’t shining, making the wet parts sparkle.

RAIN! (No lightning, please)
Navels in the Orchard, 10×10″, $200

News on Four Topics

Painting

I finished these two oil paintings, to be held in reserve for when the Mural Gallery in Exeter needs to be resupplied with citrus paintings.

Navels on the Tree I, 6×6″, $65
Navels on the Tree II, 4×6″, $45

Mineral King

The Mineral King road and recreation restrictions were scheduled to be lifted on Saturday, September 21. By now people who need to know will know for sure if that has happened.

This is how Mineral King looked in September of 2023. At the time of composing this blog post, I hadn’t been up there in almost 3 weeks.

The Book About TB

The TB book index problem is not repaired but we now have a plan. Instead of an index that can adjust itself to repagination, we will have a static index. This means that after the manuscript is formatted, I get to go through the index word-by-word and make sure the right page numbers are listed.

This is my favorite photo in the upcoming book. (Historic Saranac Lake Collection, 2022.4.6. (Courtesy of the Trudeau Institute)

2025 Calendar

Is it a good idea to show you the calendar now? They have arrived, are now for sale, and here is the part I am unsure of: they are a sneak peek into my upcoming show, Simply Home, which opens on October 19, a month from now. Wait, this isn’t truly a “spoiler”, because I have been showing you the progression of paintings for almost a year now!

2025 Calendar Front Cover — Simply Home, $25

The Mineral King road and recreation restrictions were lifted at 10 a.m. on Saturday, September 21.

Friday: Three Rivers, Not Mineral King

Normally you get to read about Mineral King on Fridays, but I have nothing to show or tell you. Maybe you only look at the pictures anyway. Maybe I am just talking to myself. . .

We went for a bikeride, curious about the firecamp at the Lions’ Roping Arena and the former Three Rivers Airport (more of a strip than a port, and closed for decades now.)

Even the most beautiful yard in Three Rivers looks a bit tired in September. August used to be my worst favorite month, but it has now become September (fires, can’t get to the cabin to get away from the heat, the deer really start chomping down my yard, everything is dusty and smoky, sick of heat, wanting to be home but so tired of heat—waa waa, someone call the wambulance.)

The number of vehicles and equipment and personnel has diminished. They are certainly keeping the gravel road watered and packed, but it is still washboardy on a bicycle.

We stood in the shade of this tree and visited with our friend, who is working security at the second gate.

I was happy to see these little guys are still in residence.

Those trucks are lined up, waiting their turn to get washed. Maybe it is a crew that is leaving.

I wonder what those sleeping trailers are like inside: probably very dark and cool. I think many of the workers choose to stay in local motels.

I don’t know what all the trucks and equipment are busy with or why, but I bet that whoever owns the former airstrip is making bank.

Enough of this fire stuff; off to the airport bridge to check out the river before the uphill ride home. (As a bonus, you now know why it is call the “airport bridge”. When we were kids and drove over it, we were instructed to, “roll up your windows—there are hippies!” I wonder if any of them was my future husband. . .)

Orange Paintings Sell Better Than Pomegranate Paintings

Since Exeter’s Mural Gallery (121 South E Street) is reopening (TODAY!), I have a renewed interest in painting oranges.

The painting on the left is untitled, so for now I will call it The Painting Formerly Known As Turning Leaf. (I thought that Turning Leaf was a good painting, but apparently I was alone in my opinion.) The painting on the right is also untitled, currently known as The Painting Formerly Known As An Unsold Pomegranate. (Ditto my thoughts on that pomegranate painting.)

Easel place swap!

Not good enough yet.

Better, but photographed with an unsightly wet shine.

Therefore, I did not photograph The Painting Formerly Known as a Pomegranate.

Instead, I started a new painting. Painting oranges reignited my enjoyment of the subject, so this time I really started whooping it up with a 10×10″ canvas.

I’m going to really like this painting (until I change my mind and retouch it.)

P.S. These won’t be in the Mural Gallery just yet. They need to get finished, dry, titled, and scanned.