If You Are Going To Paint One, Paint Two

I know, I know. I’m not painting this year, EXCEPT when I have a commission to do. I think it is funny that on the very first working day of 2013 when I am supposed to have a laser-like focus on The Cabins of Wilsonia, there I am, at the easel!

6x18 oil painting of sequoia tree

Some people saw my painting “Big Tree II” at a gallery. They wanted it. They waited. It sold to someone else. They called and asked if I had another like it. I said no, but I could paint them another. They said yes.

Sequoia Tree oil painting in progress

 

So if they want one, I might as well paint two. That way, when one of my galleries calls to say a Sequoia tree painting has sold, I can immediately deliver another. “My galleries” sounds so pretentious, but you know what I mean, right?

It is the same theory as doubling a batch of cookies – IF you can restrain yourself from eating them all, you can put half in the freezer for the next cookie emergency.

I’m sure you all understand “Cookie Emergency”, right?

So, I have two photos of entire Sequoia Trees, and the two previous paintings for reference. If Big Tree II sold, it stands to reason that there was a Big Tree I, right?

Sequoia tree oil paintings in progress

Wow, paintings look scruffy at the beginning. But can you see the promise? Can you feel the forward motion? Is the excitement building?

I’ll let you know which one the people choose, and which one goes “in the freezer”. Or, perhaps I’ll offer it for sale on Daily Paintworks.

Now I’m going to draw awhile.

I ended three sentences with “right?” What manner of weird speech pattern is creeping in here? 

Told You Yesterday That I Was Inspired

Yesterday I ended my post about inspirational beach photos by saying I felt so inspired I would go draw a cabin. You thought I was making that up?

Wilsonia cabin pencil drawing

This is a commissioned pencil drawing of a Wilsonia cabin. The cabin owners emailed me several photos with some specific instructions, and this is the result.

I love to draw.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

The Most Beautiful Fruit Bowl I’ve Ever Seen is completed. It is signed,  it is carefully wrapped up and sealed in a box, and I delivered it to an undisclosed location in Exeter. Someone will have an a-may-zing Christmas present. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that!

fruit bowl oil painting

 

P.S. This might be one of the most challenging paintings I’ve done. On the other hand, it was very very fun. Now I’m done talking about it.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE! It was a commission. I didn’t tell you while I was painting. That is a commission omission.

Why is “commission” spelled with two m’s and “omission” with one?

Somebody shut me up, please!

Crescent Meadow in Triplicate

“Triplicate” is not to be confused with “triptych”. It means in three parts, but not the same way as a triptych. That means one painting in three parts.

Never mind.

oil painting of Crescent Meadow by Jana Botkin

I probably paint better now.

I hope so.

A customer stopped by my studio and said he’d bought a painting of Tharp’s Log for his son a year or so ago. Now he wanted to buy something to go with it, and he remembered it had been shown with a painting of Crescent Meadow. (If you have visited Sequoia National Park, then you probably know that one begins the walk to Tharp’s Log at Crescent Meadow.) Of course the painting had sold.

Doesn’t that sound snotty? “Of course the painting had sold.”

I showed him the photos of previous paintings of Crescent Meadow until he said, “That’s it!” He asked me to paint it again for him. By way of reassuring me it isn’t wrong to repaint the same scene, he told me the story of Gilbert Stuart, who painted George Washington over and over and over, possibly even in the same pose.

It did make me feel better – thanks, Bill! I’ve been doing the same scenes over and over for years and wondered if it was cheating!

Since I needed to paint one for this man who lives far away to give to his son who lives even further away, I decided to paint 2 of them. As long as I have to mix up the paint colors, it makes sense to me.

It is similar to Marilyn’s saying, “Cook once, eat twice”.

Crescent Meadow oil paintings in progress

 

Now they are drying so that I can add more detail on top, including some wildflowers. Notice the two are not identical. That would be too hard for this California Artist who is working hard on not being bound to her photos.

Redwoods, Redwoods, Everywhere

I still have a very large commissioned oil painting of redwoods to complete. Redwoods are sequoia gigantea, not to be confused with California redwoods. We grew up calling them “the big trees”, and I had no clue what a privilege it was to live so close. (I might have been a bit of a twit.) I choose to call them Redwoods now because I went to Redwood High School, and although I will skip the upcoming reunion, I have retained enough loyalty to hang onto the name. But, I digress.

Redwood oil painting in progress

The customer liked a similar painting that I made for someone else, which was based on the pencil drawing called “Redwood & Dogwood”.

You can see the drawing, plus a photo of a sequoia on my laptop. The reason the palette is on the floor is because I was kneeling there to work on the lower portion of the tree. You can see the primary colors running across the top of the palette and the redwood colors running down the side.

But wait! There’s more!

redwood mural, pencil drawing, photo and oil painting

Sheesh. This California artist has a thing about redwood trees. On the left is half of the pair of doors to the painting studio. I had to open them because it is sort of dark in there. Then, the swamp cooler had to be on high, so the doors were blowing around.

It’s rough being a California artist in the heat of summer.

Wah.

commissioned oil painting of redwood in progress

This is how it looked at the end of the noisy, dark, overheated day of painting. It should dry enough overnight to begin adding the dogwood flowers on top of the redwood tree. I mean layered in front of the tree, not up at the top of the painting. You knew that, right?

 

Gingko Leaf Painting Practice

A few years ago I painted a gingko leaf. A friend saw it and asked if I could paint the same for her, but make it green instead of yellow. I did.

yellow gingko leaf oil painting

The background didn’t please her, because the darkness that I thought showed off the leaf looked depressing to her. This was her opinion, which I asked for. Since the painting was to please her, I appreciated her honesty.

green gingko leaf painting

The painting hung in my workshop for several months before I repainted the background. Nope, not that either. But, I did add more detail to the leaf, which suited us both better.

Throughout these conversations, I insisted on honesty from her. It is the only way I can learn, the best way to communicate, and an indication of the level of trust between us.

I finally asked her for a suggestion of what she would prefer. She said, “Sunflower yellow, I think!”

gingkobiloba1leaf painting

Said Friend knows her mind – this one was a hit! It certainly isn’t depressing, and since she is happy, I am happy too.

Orange You Glad You Live in California (or Sorry That You Don’t)?

group of citrus oil paintings in progress
Morning sun in the summer dries oil paintings quickly.

Orange you glad you live in California? Or perhaps you aren’t so glad – the state is way over its head financially, we have both sales tax and state income tax, our gas is almost the most expensive in the country, and it is stinkin’ hot.

But we can grow oranges, and we can paint them. That’s what California artists do who get calls from realtors who sell lots of citrus orchards. Blessings on you, Oh Realtors of Good Taste.

In case you were wondering, my favorite color isn’t orange. Besides, it looks terrible on me. Not my color. Maybe that is why it is fun to paint.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Squeezing Out Some Citrus (Paintings, that is)

A good customer requested 14 paintings of citrus. He specified a certain number of Tangerines (aka Clementines or Mandarins), Lemons and Navel oranges.

Among the excitement of replacing paintings burned up in a cabin fire and replenishing the stock at the Silver City Store, I’ve been squeezing out these paintings.

Come on! You KNOW that was cute!

Tangerine oil painting by Jana Botkin
Tangerine, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collection
Tangerine oil painting
Tangerine, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collection
Lemon oil painting
Lemon, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collection
Lemon oil painting by Jana Botkin
Lemon, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collection

Orange You Glad I Can Paint Citrus?

Tulare County grows, sells and eats a ton of citrus. Probably several million tons. I learned to oil paint by using the subject of oranges over and over and over. When an orange would sell, I’d paint another. The last one was #103, I think. There were also a handful that I didn’t title or number in the beginning, so who really knows?

 oil paintings of tangerines and lemons photo by Jana Botkin

Tangerines and Lemons

A few years ago I was at some art thing with my dear friend D. I introduced her to another friend, one who sells ag real estate. D said, “Oh my goodness, you should be buying Jana’s orange paintings to give to your clients!” (She has been a great supporter and encourager to me in the 13 years we’ve been friends, always looking for ways to promote my work.)

Mr. Real Estate said, “That’s a great idea!” Now he and his partner have placed 3 or 4 orders for 6×6 and 8×10 paintings of citrus since then – mostly navel oranges, and some tangerines/mandarins/Clementines and some lemons. It is fun to do these – bright, simple, not too difficult. (I am THRILLED to paint simple things after Put-My-Parents-In-The Painting, THRILLED, I say.)

What else would you expect from a central California artist, daughter, granddaughter and niece of citrus farmers?

What Happened to Those Parents?

Remember the agony, the angst, the moaning and groaning about Put My Parents In The Painting?

I decided it was the best I could make it, so I called The Customer, who drives a big rig all over the country. After lots of phone tag, he left me a message asking me to photograph it with my phone and text it to him. Obviously, he does not know me very well.

No worries – whenever I don’t know how to do something (like kill a Snake or face a dead kitty or operate Trail Guy’s DVD player), I just call S. She knows pertinear everything! She very graciously agreed to handle this task with her great phone and great skill.

The Customer liked the painting! (I think he probably couldn’t see it very well on his magical little phone.) A few more texts came through S, and I decided to preserve the friendship and release her from the misery of being my dispatcher.

I called The Customer and he ANSWERED his phone!! We discussed the painting, and he requested less sky, a higher treeline, and larger rocks in front of the house. He also mentioned a bird house. I scrutinized the photo under my giant lighted magnifying glass and believe the bird house is a figment of someone’s long-distance memory.

oil painting of parents in front of house by Jana Botkin
The parents are in the painting, the corrections and changes have been made, and Pa’s pants have been toned down.

 

And here is the painting. As S said, “You can’t see the Dad’s face!” That’s correct. I cannot. That is why you cannot. If I can’t see it, I can’t paint it.

When The Customer returns to the area to retrieve the painting, this California Artist might be hiding in the back of S’s car.