Yeppers, still here in the Lone Star State. It’s a bit late for the bluebonnets, we’re having lots of rain, there are fabulous other wildflowers, and I am learning much.
Here are a few teaser photos.
Yeppers, still here in the Lone Star State. It’s a bit late for the bluebonnets, we’re having lots of rain, there are fabulous other wildflowers, and I am learning much.
Here are a few teaser photos.
After getting some input from a smart and honest artist friend, I tackled this one again. It is much better, but it needs to hang around for a bit before I decide if it is good enough to sign.
This painting of the Honeymoon Cabin has been with me for three years, and I have wondered how to improve it. When in doubt, add details. . . it might not be the best solution, but it is my default position.
In addition to adding details, I refined some edges and brightened some colors. Now I really like it (but it is still for sale.) The improvements will be more visible when it is dry and photographed with more care. At 18×36″, it is way too big for the scanner.
It was hot in the painting workshop, which meant mosquitos. I put a vase of lemon geranium (it has “citronella” in the official name) by the easel, but supplemented its weak efforts with repellent. (Sigh. Scratching bites anyway.) Summer’s coming, and the painting studio isn’t very comfortable in the summer. That’s why I poured it on all winter and spring.
In addition to the heat and the mosquitos, I had the added bonus of listening to Pippin growl over a dead gopher and then crunch it for awhile. Nice job, you fantastic hunter! He has two jobs in life: be cute, and keep gophers from wrecking the yard.
May Day! Happy May Day, which I think traditionally includes flowers. (Then why do captains of planes and ships yell “MAY DAY!” when they are about to crash?)
A few days before I left for Texas, I spent a day working in the yard. Whoooo-eeee, it was hard to leave home.
Tucker joined me in the herb garden. He likes to meet me there for coffee in the mornings.
Good thing it was almost dark when I left home because otherwise I might have been tempted to cancel the trip.
2. Did you know that you can substitute 1/2 milk with 1/2 yogurt for buttermilk in a recipe? (I haven’t tried it).
3. Slippers: I was sorry to see that mine were wearing through on the soles, and especially sorry to learn that the yarn for a new pair was $40. WHAT? Then I learned that they have faithfully served my feet since 2010. (Life is like a roll of toilet paper—the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.) Finally, I learned that I cannot stop and restart the agitation segment of the cycle on our fancy washing machine (many of our appliances croaked in 2020). I also (re)learned that I am not very good at following knitting pattern directions, but once again, I got away with it. (notice the 2 new slippers don’t exactly match each other.)
4. Have you ever heard of a yogurt strainer? I hadn’t, and learned of this item on The Frugal Girl blog. It is a convenient way to drain the whey from yogurt so that you have “Greek” yogurt. (I just pour mine off as it accumulates in the pan I made it in and save it for making bread.) I am tempted by this item but my policy of no unifunction items in my kitchen keeps me from succumbing. The woman who told me about it also uses it when making lemon curd and almond millk, two items that are not on the menu here. (Here is a list of the various yogurt strainers on Amazon.)
5. Did you know that there is no cure for neuropathy, particularly idiopathic neuropathy, which means the kind for which no reason is known? Sigh. I learned this from a friend who has had it for 30 or 40 years. (I have an appointment in June with a neurologist anyway. So there.) My hands are over my ears chanting, “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!” as I refuse to accept this information.
6. I found this book in the library in Three Rivers and checked it out because of the title. The characters were too weird for me to relate to, so I quit after the first two chapters. There are too many books that I want to read to bother with those that don’t hold my attention.
7. This is a relearn: The women’s club in Lemon Cove has the actual historical name of “Lemon Cove Woman’s Club”. Isn’t that funny? (Exactly which woman did it belong to? Did Nora Pogue Montgomery call it this because she was reluctant to give up her family home?) You can read about it here: Tulare County Treasures.
P.S. By now I’ve probably learned many more things while in Texas. Although it will still be April while I am there, I’ll probably put them in the Learned in May post. Or, in Texan, “I’m fixin’ to put them in May’s post”.
Yes, I know it is still April. Before I left for Texas, I painted this view of the Mineral King valley as it looks from the Timber Gap trail in September. The first layer was done a few days earlier, but I didn’t take any pictures.
I left it wet on the easel to put branches and greenery on the tree and sign it after I get back home.
Tomorrow: Things I Learned in April.
As I plan for the solo show at CACHE in autumn, there are a handful of paintings that I want to improve. Finesse. Polish. Tweak. Pick your word.
I love this scene! It’s one of the earlier pieces of my obsession with orange groves, foothills, and snow-covered peaks, titled “Tulare County’s Best”. Why hasn’t it sold?
I changed some of the colors and tightened some details on Alta Peak, along with making it stand out a bit more.
I painted this one with the intention of enjoying it in my dining area for awhile before putting it in the gallery (the show isn’t until mid-October). After living with it for awhile, I saw a way to make it better. So, back to the easel.
I have a few more to puzzle over and figure out how to improve. But, I’m in Texas right now, so the other Tulare County paintings will have to wait.
By the time you are reading this, I hope to be on a flight to Texas. The way flights get cancelled these days, who knows? I could be sitting in a airport, fuming. I hope you are not fuming; instead, I hope you enjoy these last photographs of the most beautiful month in my yard and around its edges a bit.
Man oh man, the hillside will be all brown and/or weed-eated by the time I get home, and the Lady Banks rose will be finished, and so will the lavender. . . it is SO HARD to leave home, especially in the spring. (But I haven’t ever visited my dear friend in Texas during the 30 years she has lived there; I always wait until she comes here for a reunion, so it is past time.)
Farewell, spring in Three Rivers; hello Texas!
Maybe. Maybe not. However, I am heading to Texas tomorrow*, and when I return, I think the green in Three Rivers will be finished, or close to it.
My dear friend the Texan and I planned this visit to coincide with the blooming of the Texas bluebonnets (a variety of lupine). I think someone miscalculated, but I didn’t want to bump my trip earlier because there was just too much to adjust, AND I didn’t want to miss spring in Three Rivers.
So, let’s just enjoy the last hurrah of spring in Three Rivers. I might post while in Texas; I might not. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.
I hate leaving but am so eager to see The Texan, another dear friend who is also a Texan, and yes, The Silos in Waco.
P.S. The Things I Learned post will appear on April 30. The Blog Equipment allows me to schedule posts ahead of time.
*Normally I would not post about being gone in real time on the World Wide Web, but the house won’t be empty so no squatters will take up residence while I’m away.
For 30 years, I have been helping people learn to draw. The classes are small: 4-8 people together for an hour per week, each one working on his own work at his own pace. It has become the highlight of my art business, a chance to connect with fabulous people, sharing tips and encouragement with one another, becoming friends, and becoming artists. Some people start out knowing a little bit, and others begin knowing nothing. All learn, except those who quit too soon.
Lessons happen on Tuesday afternoons in Exeter. My classes are full, but if four people who are all available from 1-2 p.m. get on a waiting list, I will add another class. Cost is $60 per month plus supplies. We don’t meet in December, July, or August.
Another beautiful spring day, accompanied by the desire to just be outside and pull weeds.
Nope. It’s a workday, chica.
But wait! There’s an eclipse! I joined Trail Guy for a brief look at the weirdness of shadows and light, with the help of a colander and a piece of white paper.
Back to work.
Two paintings now drying, so that tighter detail can be applied in the next session.
How about another break to enjoy the wildflowers?
Back to work.
In spite of succumbing to a few temptations, it was a very productive day. So, here is our final reward of the day.