I am stalling in showing you the actual designs because I feel gun-shy. After 14 months of working with a large organization and then never getting the job, I am cautiously optimistic that this mural job will come to fruition.
So, today I will simply show you the pictures I presented to the mural selection committee of previously completed murals. Had to prove that I knew what I was talking about.
Top to bottom:
1. Mineral King in Our Backyard, E Street, Exeter, 13×110’, completed in 2009 and refreshed in 2017, as seen looking east
2. Same mural, looking west
3. Oak tree, St. Anthony’s Retreat, Three Rivers, interior mural completed 2020
4. Yokohl Creek, Mooney Grove, 4×8’, completed 2022
5. Tulare County History Museum, 4 exterior murals, completed 2020
I grew up in the country, with the choice of asking Mom to drive me or riding my bike if I wanted to go somewhere. (One did not bother Dad, because he was working; we were Mom’s work.) She rarely denied me when I asked her to take me to the library 2-4 miles away (we moved closer when I was in 6th grade), which was (and is) very small.
It was a challenge to find new books to read in that tiny building, but I never gave up trying. We either didn’t know about or didn’t have the option of ordering books from other county libraries as we do now. And I remember the first time I went to the library in the big town instead of the little burg—it was mind-boggling in its enormity. So many books, so little time!
Over a year ago, I was asked to paint an outdoor mural on the library of my youth. Within a week, I drove there with sketch paper and a tape measure. I met the librarian, who turns out to be a close friend of my sister-in-law. (Welcome to Tulare County, and never talk bad about anyone!)
Immediately, I began scouring my memory for ideas, and without knowing the budget, I came up with 3 versions—each one emphasizing different aspects of that nondescript rural unincorporated town, and different sizes for pricing options.
Alas, the Asker didn’t return my phone calls. I saw him in person, he apologized, and then still didn’t follow up. So, I let go of that dream.
Several months later, the Arts Consortium put out a Call-To-Artists, for not one, but TWO murals on the library of my youth. WHAT?? That was supposed to be MY mural.
Allll-righty-then, at least I had a headstart. I designed a second one, did the best presentation sketch possible, and even wrote an (unasked for) explanation and a (also unasked for) heartfelt statement about why I am the most qualified for this particular project. I met the deadline, and then waited to hear when I could begin. (Can you say “overconfident”?)
The deadline to notify the winner came and went. Silence. I asked the Arts Consortium who got the job, and the reply was that the selection committee was unable to meet. More months passed, and I asked again. This time the answer was that the selection committee was unable to decide.
I gave up, let go, moved on, while wondering what in the world is wrong with organizations and why I allow them to waste my time. I lost the big Catholic church murals—might as well add this to the pile of missed opportunities, and make a note to just deal with individuals in the future, rather than large outfits.
Then, 14 months after I was asked to paint a mural on the library of my youth, the Arts Consortium emailed that I HAVE BEEN CHOSEN FOR THE JOB!!
Stay tuned to see the sketches, hear the explanations, and learn when it will begin.
The Great Western Divide is the name given to the ridge of peaks seen from the top of Moro Rock in the Sierra Nevada. On this side, water drains west and on the other side, it drains east .
I haven’t painted this before, at least not from this view. The mountains show in the distance of many of my citrus/foothills/mountain scenes, but only once did I try to make them perfect. And that was tricky, because I worked from many photos, piecing the range together, and then faking the hills.
Why did I fake the hills? Because they were different in every single photo, because each photo was taken from a different place. There is no place besides an aircraft where you can see the entire width of the Sierra Nevada.
Here we go. . .
At the end of the painting session, the light was a bit too low to be accurate on both the colors and the shapes.
So, I photographed it the next morning in the bright sunlight. Looks washed out because the wet paint is reflective.
When it is dry, I will scan it, and then, as always, I will tell you it looks better in person.
The Great Western Divide, oil on wrapped canvas, 6×12″, $125.
Yesterday you learned the term “glazing” for building a painting in layers.
Now let’s look at glazing some fruit.
This was a little tricky. I started with a photo, then started rearranging and adding more fruit so that there was more color. I kept gathering more photos, trying to make this look believable but also full of variety and vibrance.
The color varies from photo to photo here because of the light differences in the painting workshop, depending on the angle and the time of day.
It needed an orange, and obviously the orange will need some brightening up.
At the end of the painting session I realized that the light on the fruit was not consistent. So, I lifted off the lemon and will paint another one over the top. The orange needs to be brighter. The apple was a good way to calm down that giant yellow pear. The persimmon needs detailing on its green top. A tangerine will be a good addition where the red circle is. Obviously the pomegranate, yellow pear, and peach need to be finished.
Then, everything will need to be tightened up even more. Since this painting is a gift, I can spend as much time as I want without paying attention to whether or not the price is right.
The next morning, I had a few hours to make a little more progress.
The ArtSpeak word for slowly building paintings with layers is “glazing”. You’re welcome.
This might be finished. The photo on the left was taken in the afternoon; the one on the right was taken the next morning. I’m hard-pressed to tell you which is more accurate.
Wait, nope, I spent yet another hour on the phone with someone whose main phrase was, “Yes Ma’am”, as she tried to figure out AGAIN why my new phone won’t work. Or wait, is it the new SIM card? Perhaps it is the new provider?
See a pattern here? It is the word “new”.
STOP WITH THE CHANGES AND UPGRADES AND UPDATES ALREADY!!
Okay, where were we. . . oh yes, in the day’s accomplishments and forward progress at the easels.
Neither of these paintings are finished, but they are both much closer than the last time you saw them.
The base of the tree was beginning to look good.
Not good enough yet, but much closer.
That Sequoia is called the Sentinel Tree and it is in front of the building formerly known as the Giant Forest Market. Now it is the Giant Forest Museum.
The difficult thing about this commission wildflower piece is keeping the edges of the poppies slightly blurry so that the brodiaea AKA Blue Dick really jumps out.
I love this kind of detailed realism, even if it does take (almost) all day. And both of these subjects are exactly what one would expect from a Central California artist. All that is missing is some oranges.
Hmmm, I am sort of like country music with my three subjects: redwood trees, poppies, and citrus. (Country music’s three subjects are cheatin’, drinkin’, and storytellin’.)
Wait, I also paint Mineral King, cabins, single oranges, entire groves, the foothills with mountains in the background, various views of the Sierra Nevada, Three Rivers, and whatever else people are interested in hiring me to paint.
Phew. Thought for a moment I was gittin’ real simple-like.
See? I did more than just be on hold and paint. . . I did me some thinkin’. Real high-quality thought.
This painting needed some improvement on the arrangement. That’s called the “composition” in ArtSpeak.
This next painting is a commission. I am combining multiple photos, trying to somewhat match a looser painting that the customer admired, but wanted in my detailed style. Because it is of wildflowers, I have lots of reference photos to work from. It is fun to use bright colors, in this and in the fruit painting above.
The next one is a 6×12″ of part of the Great Western Divide, as seen from Moro Rock. I sketched it with a paintbrush while the canvas was upside down. When I flipped it over, I decided there needed to be less sky, so I scooted everything a bit higher, while improving accuracy of the shapes.
Kaweah Arts requested some Sequoia trees, so here we go again. . . This is the pair of redwood trees at Redwood Canyon, or simply “Redwood” on the Mineral King road. Some former cabin neighbors referred to them as “Aunt Tilly and Uncle Pete”. I can’t tell which is which. Must have been married so long that they started looking alike.
This last one is 6×18″ and is the Sentinel Tree, in front of the Giant Forest Market. I mean the museum. My cousin worked there one summer (or more), and used to get a kick out of customers who would ask, “Where can I see the big trees?” She would simply point out the door.
All of these need to be relayered, then detailed, my favorite part. After they are dry, I will either scan or photograph them. Next, I will post them on the blog and tell you that they look better in person.
For several months, I had no work. Instead of worrying about it, I enjoyed guilt-free time at the cabin. Well, guilt-free except for the fact that the road was closed, and other people couldn’t enjoy Mineral King this past summer. Life is a series of good things and not-so-good things; we do our best with what we have been given. Or I do. Most of the time. I don’t know what you do. Maybe you just complain. . .
My point, and I do have one, is to show you that I did have a few sales. One must pay closer attention when times are a little hard, because the negatives are often much louder than the positives. Here are my positives from that slow period plus a couple of months beyond.
I am guessing on the titles and some of the sizes. Closies count. . .
Pencil, 6×9″, a commmission drawing
Pencil, 11×14″, a commmission drawing
Oranges, 5×7″, oil on panel
North Fork, 10×10″, oil on canvas
Navel, 6×6″, oil on canvas
Sawtooth, 8×8″, oil on canvas
Unspiced, oil on canvas, 6×12″
Alta and Moro After a Storm, 6×18″, oil on canvas
Craig’s View, 6×6″, oil on canvas, a commission painting
It is time to do a few small paintings to sell at Kaweah Arts. The proprietor requested Sequoia trees and mountain ranges. I looked through my canvas sizes, looked through my photos and made some decisions. Inventory number, title, wire on the back, add to the inventory lists, crop and enhance the photos—all needs to happen before paint lands on the canvas.
Wait! This isn’t a Sequoia tree or a mountain range. What is it?
It is a scene I have wanted to paint for many years, but felt it was a bit too hard. This will be one of my long slow paintings, with many many layers. There is no deadline, and I want it to be Most Totally Excellent.
Okay, this is a standard 6×18″ painting of a big tree, AKA redwood, AKA Sequoia, formally known as Sequoia gigantea, not to be confused with the redwoods of northern California, called Sequoia sempervirens.
WHAT IS THIS???
This is a work in progress, a housewarming present for someone Very Important in my life. She showed me the pieces she has in her kitchen, and I was inspired to ask her what I could paint to add to the collection. (These might not be the actual pieces that she has, but hers are very similar to these.)
The sequoias and mountain range paintings can just hold their camels* for a little bit. I have some designing, improving, polishing, rearranging, composing ahead.
*Learned to say this while in Israel back in 2016 and decided it is more fun than horses.
Fall is supposed to be a relief from the heat. Last week we hit the 90s, AGAIN. Although my mind has the facts of seasonal changes, doubt holds me hostage.
So, I was seeking signs of fall, anything for encouragement that summer wouldn’t last forever.
The redbud trees in our yard are getting some yellow leaves.
Two red branches are appearing at the top of my flowering pear by the studio.
See? Weird, eh?
The pyracantha berries are getting good color, and the mulberry is getting a touch of yellow in the leaves.
