Hot Day in the Orange Grove

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Just another hot day at the easel, painting another orange grove.

Is it an “orange grove” or an “orange orchard”? We tend to call it “orange grove” or “orchard”. Some people call it a “ranch”, but I have yet to see any cattle in an orange grove. 

Commissioned Oil Painting

The swamp cooler kept me at the easel working on this commissioned oil painting until early evening. Growing leaves takes some time, particularly on a 16×20″ custom oil painting.


Reference Photos

In spite of being a familiar subject to paint, the piece is a challenge due to the melding of multiple scenes in multiple lights with multiple sizes and perspectives. My goal is consistency, believability, and of course, beauty. Always beauty, along with as close I can get to truth while fabricating the scene.

Here are a few of the dozen or so photos that I referred to. (Not showing the children because I respect people’s privacy here on the World Wide Web).

I love this photo. If I could have figured out how to put the children in this one and have the sizes all make sense AND be large enough to paint some detail, I would have used this one.

The painting still needs orange blossoms, and might need a wind machine. And because I believe it depicts the best part of Tulare County*, I will probably keep polishing it, drawing with my paintbrush, not wanting to quit.

Good thing there isn’t a deadline.

*I asked Ecosia (a new-to-me search engine instead of DuckDuckGo) to find me information on “the best of Tulare County” and it went to the Exeter Sun-Gazette, an article about Tulare County leading the nation in illiteracy. Sigh.

 

 

Many Happy Returns (and some not quite as happy)

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. 

Three Returns

One advantage (and disadvantage) of being in the art business in the same county year after year after year, is that sometimes your art gets returned to you. Some are happy returns, some are hassley returns.

The circle is a sign, painted by me about 10 years ago. The customer was happy and now the disintegrating sign needs to be replaced, larger this time.

The citrus art was for sale at Farmer Bob’s World, and nothing sold. The customer wasn’t happy, apparently. (Who was the customer? No one.) I am happy that I can sell it in a place with greater visitation.

Many years ago when I began oil painting, a friend (because almost everyone in Tulare County is a friend, unless he is a friend of a friend) bought this painting. That friend has moved on to his reward, and the painting was given to the Mineral King Preservation Society. The MKPS brought it to me because it needed a little attention after all these years. This is not a happy return because my friend is gone, but it is a happy return because I can spruce it up.

Interruption: What is Pippin Doing?

If This Ever Gets Returned…

The customers presented this painting to the happy recipient, who got a little teary-eyed. He and I have many things in common, and we just chattered away about various aspects of this painting, such as how the idea was conceived, what exactly is in it, why I left some things out, and how much we love this view. He is sort of like anutter brutter from our utter mutter. (And if this painting gets returned, I’m hanging it in my house!)

No More Return

I returned to this colored pencil drawing. The original concept was to only use the 24 Prismacolor colored pencils in their limited set. Those stupid pencils kept breaking, so I started using lots of other colors too. It reminded me of one of the many reasons I quit using colored pencils.

I doubt if I will be returning to colored pencils any time soon.

Not Returning This Either

About a year ago after a whole lot of trouble, I finally bought a mini fridge for the painting workshop. The freezer is where I store my oil painting palette, a convenient luxury. The big box store was TERRIBLE to deal with. A few weeks ago when I retrieved my palette, it was HOT inside the fridge. Sigh. I unplugged it, pulled it off its pedestal, propped the door open, and now I have to figure out how to get rid of it. I am NOT going back to the extremely inept, incompetent, undertrained, understocked, understaffed, and apathetic big box store. Instead, I will consider it one year of luxury, now both a memory and a hassle. (Learned in June 2021, #10)

Are You Drawing With Your Paintbrush Again?

If you read this blog through an email subscription on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yes, I am drawing with my paintbrush again. Paintbrushes, and the smallest I can find, treating them as if they are pencils. Wet flexible pencils are not as effective as graphite pencils, but I think this painting is getting better as a result of all this teensy work.

Remember this?

The first item of business was to complete the distant hills and grove.

Next, instead of painting around the children, I dove into the minutiae, “minutiae” in terms of size, not in terms of importance.

Boy first, because as a righthanded artist, working from left to right lessens the risk of smearing wet paint.

Since the photo of the children was taken in a parking lot, it will be tricky to manage the light in a believable manner, and tricky to make believable shadows. First, though, we need believable children.

These kids are just so cute, both in person and on canvas.

Much work remains, and it will be thoroughly enjoyable as I pursue art of Tulare County, combining my favorite subject of citrus and the mountains with the challenge of believable little people.

Familiarity Breeds Comfort

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

“Familiarity breeds contempt” in some cases; in the context of my oil painting endeavors, familiarity breeds comfort. “Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint #8” is signed, sealed, and delivered, another commissioned oil painting in the archives.

This means I can move into another comforting subject, one that I love to paint, although this one has its own challenges. This oil painting commission came with much freedom. The customer didn’t care what orchard as long as it is oranges, wasn’t concerned about the foothills, and after much conversation (“Really, you must care about something specific here!”), he decided that Sawtooth and Homer’s Nose made the most sense for the visible peaks. His focus is the children, and he provided good photos.

If I were a loosey-goosey painter, this would be close to finished. Alas, I am a painter who loves detail and when this dries, I will begin drawing with my paintbrushes on this Tulare County classic view.

 

A New Oil Commission

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Custom art, or “commission” work might be the most satisfying piece of my business. I am painting something that someone really wants, painting with confidence that it will be loved, and confidence that it will be sold. 

Artists can be so insecure. We pour ourselves onto paper or canvas, creating something that really lights our fire, getting lost in the process, and then . . . what? Nothing happens.

So, when I get a commission, particularly one of something that I am familiar with (orange groves, sequoia trees, Sawtooth, cabins, or anything Mineral King), it is a real pleasure to paint.

Beginnings

The customers chose 16×20″. I primed the canvas, assigned an inventory number, and wired the back. Pippin hung around, but wasn’t interested in the details. (And the vase of lemon geranium may have repelled the mosquitos.)

It was near the end of the day, and I was in danger of falling into Idiotville, where Stupid, Sloppy, and Careless reside, so I set it aside for the day.

And this is how it looked after the next painting session:

That again? 

Yeppers, this time in oil paint instead of pencil. Not sisters this time—a brother and a sister, different grove. And no deadline, so I will spend oodles of time make this piece of Tulare County art perfect.

Oodles, I said.

Really Painting Sawtooth Again

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

I really am painting Sawtooth again. In fact, I finished the painting.

Clear, enlargeable photos, along with an operational swamp cooler, good podcasts, and nothing difficult hanging over my head made it easy to just git ‘er dun instead of looking for excuses to stop because it was too hard. Oh wait—must be experience that created the momentum.

See the South Fork Estates sign through the easel? That odd job is completed, which is why there is nothing hanging over my head. 

Here is the progression: I have finally learned how to scan and photoshop this size of painting in spite of it being too long for my flatbed scanner. When combined with Photoshop Junior, I can patch the 2 scans together.

This is not that; this is too wet to scan. But, it is finished!! Only took me seven times to get comfortable enough with this scene to be able to stretch it into a 6×18″. 


Are You Really Painting Sawtooth Again?

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yeppers, another Sawtooth oil painting. Sawtooth is visible from the flatlands of Visalia on a clear day and is the signature peak of Mineral King. It has recently become the most popular of the Mineral King subjects that I paint, and a few weeks ago, someone commissioned another version of the “Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint” view. This is number 8, and the first one in the ratio of 1:3 (6×18″, vertical).

As usual, I started with a scribbly base, and then put in the sky, working my way closer and closer to the front.

Suddenly, I was confused on all those mountain ridges, so I dropped into the stream to pick apart the rocks. I photographed the stream in order to see the rock formations at higher water, before the seasonal growth obstructed my vision. I don’t understand water flow well enough to convincingly make this up.

This represents an afternoon of work, trying to perfect the detail on the first pass, knowing full well that I will need to make corrections as the other parts get completed. And then those “other parts” will need to be corrected.

It would be satisfying to spend as much time on every painting as I am on this one. But paintings don’t require the level of detail that pencil drawings do, it isn’t cost effective, and for the most part, my customers don’t even recognize that level of intense detail. (Not everyone is as near-sighted as I am, albeit it with strong cheater-readers these days.)

Links to other posts about painting Sawtooth:

  1. Department of Redundancy Dept.
  2. Lots of Sawtooths (Sawteeth? Nah)
  3. Almost finished with the Sawtooth paintings
  4. You just won’t believe this one
  5. Back to Sawtooth

Odd Job, Chapter 3

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

Yesterday’s post about refreshing 2 signs left you hanging. I hope the anticipation of today’s continuation didn’t disrupt your sleep last night.

After applying 2 coats of the rim color, some confidence began developing. Time to tackle the narrow yellow line. You can see the old color in the middle; I put a bit of white on the left, and some brighter lightfast yellow on the right.

The yellow needed some red, along with a touch of white.

You might be able to tell that the upper yellow is now better, but since the lightfast yellow is transparent, it needed a primer coat beneath. No need to color fuss here because the goal is to make it look good.

As I painted the narrow line with white, I realized that the wood is quite splintery. This means that getting a smooth edge isn’t going to happen the entire distance on any of the sign. But, it is a sign, not a piece of fine art to be viewed closely.

With the warm weather, swamp cooler blowing, and big doors open, the paint dried quickly. I could paint one sign, turn and do the other, go back to sign #1 for the second coat, and then turn and second coat sign #2.

The white letters seemed like a good next step. These also soaked up the paint and required 2 coats. The rough edges bothered me at first. Then I remembered that this will be viewed from inside people’s cars, until they stop noticing at all. After 5 hours, I felt an unavoidable slide into Idiotland, where Sloppy, Stupid, and Careless all reside. Besides, my cheater-readers kept falling off when I leaned over the sign, and then I painted a blue streak on my face by accident.

So, that’s all on this Three Rivers custom art project for today. The quail and the narrow gray line surrounding the letters will require a strong focus (and a better fitting pair of cheater-reader glasses).

Trail Guy Hikes For Us

Who is “us”? 

You, me, anyone who reads the blog but isn’t retired or on vacation in Mineral King. While I was painting walls inside Three Rivers buildings, Trail Guy went hiking in Mineral King.

He went up toward Timber Gap, and then to Empire, but not to the top, just a loop that gives good views.

While he was there looking at the mountains, I was painting the very same peaks in the Mineral King Room at the Three Rivers Historical Museum.

This is Ranger’s Roost, AKA Mather Point, looking through the timber of Timber Gap. When you are looking at Timber Gap, it is the bump to the left/west. The Mather Party came over Timber and saw Mineral King. I drew the cover in pencil and colored pencil for a book about it, but I haven’t read it. I just look at the pictures. (This was a second edition—the original drawing on the first edition went missing so the publisher commissioned me.)

There were a few flowers: shooting star, Western wallflower, phlox.

This is the rock outcropping on Empire that gives the false impression of being the actual peak. It is a favorite for enjoying alpenglow in the evening light.

Messing With Other People’s Art

There have been several times in my career when I have been asked to change someone else’s art. I have repaired a torn canvas, changed a boulder in a painting that looked like a skull, fixed a child that looked like a little hunchback, and brightened colors in a dull painting. All these were done without knowing the original artist, and with assurance that the original artist would never know.

The Mineral King Room makeover was a different story. The original designer is highly educated, experienced and respected in The Art World. I am somewhat known in the local Art World, but I try to keep a low profile when it comes to any formal types of situation where I might be outed as a total DBO, mostly self-taught, Tulare County native. (You know how I feel about ArtSpeak. . . ugh.) 

I respect the original artist of the Mineral King Room and understand that she put a lot of thought into the design. The folks who approved the design were awed by her work, and didn’t think that there would be a strong reaction to the teal color and the stylized mountains, which were all effective from a designer’s point of view.

The approvers were mistaken about the reaction, which was strongly against the color and the mountain shapes. This necessitated a call to your Central California artist, who also is the local Mineral King artist.

The designer wasn’t pleased when she learned that I would be giving her design a makeover. (What artist would be??) I don’t blame her, because she chose all the shapes and colors based on her design expertise, to provide the best interpretive background for historic displays. She was professional and polite, while sounding as if she was defending a dissertation, not in a defensive way, but protective and offering the rationale for her design decisions.

My approach, on the other hand, also based on training and experience, is to simply please the customer. (My very wise dad taught me the all important business principle of “You kiss their fanny and take their money”.) We have to think about who the visitors and supporters of the Mineral King Preservation Society are, and what they will understand. The answer to that is that they love Mineral King, not a stylized version of it. (“Nosirree, I’ve climbed Sawtooth, and that ain’t it!”)

This is how the mountains surrounding the Mineral King valley really look.

So, with respect to the designer, who is very good at what she does, I just dove in and “corrected” her work. I don’t mean that it wasn’t good; it just wasn’t right for the audience.