More Cold Water Drawing

This is the first drawing titled “Rock and Roll”, one that appeared in my 2018 calendar, sold, and now has been requested by a new customer as a do-over.

On a rainy weekend in Mineral King, I worked on the new drawing for another few hours.

 

This time I remembered to bring my Tombow pencils and also the original photos. I try to work from photos so that I am not simply interpreting a previous interpretation. Flowing water isn’t an exact subject, but I want to keep close to the original view because the customer recognized this section of river. If I stray too far, she might say it doesn’t look right.

I wrote a few reminder notes on the facing sheet, and then because of the overcast and rain, it got too dark to see the details, up there in the Land of No Electricity, Internet, or Cell Service. 

Drawing Cold Water in a Hot Month

Someone I know saw a drawing she loved at my show “Images of Home” last November and December at Exeter’s Courthouse Gallery. It was called “Rock & Roll”, and she wasn’t the only one who loved it. It sold.

She got in touch to ask for the drawing, and I showed her three others that are available.

Every Drop

Life Source

Rough & Tumble

Nope. She wants Rock & Roll. 

So, I offered to draw it again, and she said yes. Her deadline is about 6 weeks away, but because it doesn’t require a drafting table with a straight edge, I took it to the cabin and dove in.(Yep, I said that.)

All I had was my 2017 calendar picture to work from because it was too hot in the studio down the hill to look for the original photos.

I also didn’t remember to take my current favorite pencils (Tombow) up the hill, but I have plenty of other pencils to choose from. It was quite pleasant to just put in an hour or two for several days running.

Using pencils, oil paint, and murals, I make art that you can understand, of places and things you love, for prices that won’t scare you.

(Unless you just filled your gas tank on the way back from the grocery store before opening your electric bill.)

 

Sold in Summer

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

Sales have slowed down a bit, which makes me concerned for my sellers and their businesses. However, I remain both busy and optimistic with some new projects pending. That will appear in another post.

Sequoias, some poppies remaining from spring, one commission, and the rest was Mineral King, of course. No pencil drawings this time.

 

But, summer isn’t over, not in weather, nor the calendar. Of course, the calendar says September 21 is the beginning of fall, but everyone knows that Labor Day is the other bookend to Memorial Day, holding together those weeks that remind us of the beach, fluffy reading, swatting mosquitoes, fireworks, watermelon, road trips, cowering in the A/C, and a sense of NEEDING to be off work.

Thus we conclude another peek into the (seasonal) business of art.

Agreeable Customer, Disagreeable Weather

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. A swamp cooler doesn’t help in hot humid weather. When it is horrid out, I am able to paint a few hours before melting. So, I am thankful to have such an agreeable customer while working on his project in this disagreeable weather.

Because the sign is 20″, and will be outside, I am going to attempt to do this with my mural paints instead of oils. I might need oils for the detailed parts, but maybe the scenery can be accomplished with mural paints.

Rough start. I need a photo rather than the old sign. Good thing this is about Mineral King, because I have a couple of photos on my computer of Mineral King. A couple thousand.

This will work. I drew a partial circle around it to help me see which parts to include.

How did I paint before I learned to use photos on the laptop? Easy. I could see small things up close in the olden days.

Now we’re cooking with gas!

And that might be why I am melting. This project is going to have to wait for better weather. 

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″.