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.
Pumpkin spice something, anyone?
I am referring to finishing a large (12×24″) oil painting that I started in August, and then left to gather dust and spider webs while I worked on smaller paintings. Smaller paintings provide something closer to instant gratification; larger paintings build character.
These photos were taken in August.
These were taken in October, a progression of adding paint. You might notice that Vandever (the peak on the right) grew in height. If you are particularly observant, you may notice some angle changes too.
The painting was wet and shiny, so the final photo is not telling the true story. (. . . pants on fire)
I rotated the easel every direction, wasting film like crazy.
NO, I WASN’T WASTING FILM! I have a digital camera. But you probably knew that, because I am so modern, so quick to adopt new technology.
I can hear you thinking sarcastically, “Sure you are.”
This is Farewell Gap at dusk, in Mineral King. (I bet you guessed that already). Perhaps the title will be “Farewell Gap at Dusk”, because I am just clever that way sometimes.
These new oil paintings may look familiar to you from seeing them in progress.
Inventory was low; with the Holiday Bazaar in the near future (November 18 at the Three Rivers Veterans Memorial Building) and seeking a new vendor, it was time to start producing.
P.S. They all look better in person, but I think you might know that by now.
Yesterday I showed you some oil paintings of Sequoia, the non-Mineral King part of the park. Today here are some pencil drawings (I LOVE to draw—did you know that??)
These don’t have sizes and prices. Some are sold, some might be framed, and most are probably just in a flat file in my studio. (If you want to buy any, email me at cabinart AT cabinart DOT NET—written this way so robots won’t bother me any more than they already are—and I will see if I can find the original for you.)
One or two might be available as a reproduction print. (Since I am old now, according to The Beatles, I can’t remember.)
Gollll-eeee, I do love me some pencil. And sometimes I just cannot fathom that Sequoia National Park is visible from my house!
“On the Easels” isn’t exactly accurate; it is a euphemism for “paintings in progress”. It has been awhile since you have seen what oil paintings I am working on. With the annual Holiday Bazaar coming up on November 18 (sounds far away but is actually now closer to us than summer was), I have to be ready to fill my booth with little items that folks like to buy for Christmas gifts.
Yes, there will be 2024 calendars.
These current paintings are all about Three Rivers, because what doesn’t sell at the bazaar will go to the gift shop at St. Anthony’s Retreat Center. This is a new location for my paintings. With the Silver City Store closed over the summer, it is prudent to find new outlets.
People often think that an artist must be “inspired” to create work. Maybe. But must a baker be “inspired” in order to keep the display cases full? Must a farmer be “inspired” to keep the trees irrigated, fertilized, and pruned?
Inspiration comes from many sources. Sometimes mine comes from a particular quality of light, sometimes from not knowing what else I could do to earn a living, and sometimes it comes from the fact that Fernando has 248,000 miles and won’t last forever. An artist I greatly admired used to say that his inspiration came from the bills in his P.O Box.
My drawing students get to hear me say this regularly: “You can be fast or you can be good; I get to be both.”
Now I am working on a drawing that is very very important to me, and I am choosing to be good, but S L O W.
What’s with all the pressure? This is a house I met once and immediately admired, belonging to my closest friend in the world at the time.
I began this commission pencil drawing in September.
I got this far and decided that it needs to fill the paper more, because I don’t want to just fill the bottom inch with gravel. So, I have erased the lower parts and will stretch the slate and brick walkway farther down the paper.
The shrubs are being placed willy-nilly as I see fit, because I am working from about 5 different photos, all taken at different times of the landscape development. As long as there are lavender shrubs with color at the end, my dear friend will be happy.
This is the absolute best I know how to do.
So far I have only told you about the steps toward painting the display on a wall in the Three Rivers Historical Museum. I finally began applying color to the wall.
It took two coats for the colors to be strong enough to cover. My plan was to freehand the “shadows”, and afterward, use the soft white base coat paint to cover the wobbles, hairs, drips, and smudges.
The bottom center photo shows what was behind me in the Mineral King room. Those are my murals on the walls. It was a real privilege to get to paint in this peaceful place, working for accommodating people, just 1-1/2 mile from home.
The exhibit is on the north interior wall of the Mineral King Room in the Three Rivers Historical Museum. (Really, shouldn’t this be called a “history” museum rather than a “historical” museum? This bothers me. The museum isn’t historical; however, I didn’t name it and can read their sign and website and then call them what they call themselves.)
This last picture shows the design with its “shadows”, along with three of gray people-ish shapes to give an idea of how the finished wall will look. On the left is The Gathering, in the middle is Quail (but the lighter versions won’t be included), and on the right is Rattlesnake.
The quail design had to be repeated, this time higher and to the right. I was on a roll, had this thing figured out!
Trail Guy stopped by to see how things were going. His timing was excellent, and he helped me place this design higher on the wall, measuring and leveling.
It was too big for the kraft paper, so I only drew half of the design, thinking I’d just flip it over and finish it. However, I had to “scab” another piece of paper and finish the drawing, then trim it when we flipped it over. I was thankful that he was still outside, reading through the exhibit on the New England Tunnel and Smelter Company (a Mineral King exhibit).
After tracing that pattern, called “rattlesnake”, I went home for lunch. Tony’s Taverna has a food truck outside the museum, and I know the food is terrific, but I am too frugal to spend $20 for lunch when my kitchen is less than 2 miles away.
After lunch, I returned to finish the final design, which I called “little men” but learned is called “The Gathering”. This one had only one little man traced, and the plan was to keep moving the pattern over until all three were in place.
Oops. There was a mistake. I fixed it, repaired it on the wall and on the pattern, and then worked the little man across the wall. I didn’t tape the bottom of the pattern, because I had to keep lifting it up and crawling beneath it to place the graphite paper, three positions for each little man.
When I thought I was finished, I could see some problems with the little men’s feet not lining up. This is something I could fudge into place (what a weird use of the word “fudge”, but I bet you know what I mean).
Finally, here is a weird thought. As I was figuring out how to do this, I realized that I learned these skills from my mom. When?? Where?? When?? I don’t know, but I feel certain that I must have watched her create a pattern and transfer it somewhere, sometime.
Thanks, Mom!
I enlarged these designs onto kraft paper, ordered some very large sheets of graphite transfer paper, gathered a few tools, and drove to the Three Rivers Historical Museum. My job bosses had prepped the wall for me, and they also blocked it off in a very serious manner, along with providing a ladder and a couple of tables. (They are TERRIFIC to work for!)
I had previously tested some carbon paper to see if I could transfer through the kraft paper, but had to go searching at Blick Art Materials for some large graphite sheets. There were two to choose from, and instead of accidentally ordering the wrong one, I bought both.
We measured the wall very carefully to mark the center and then figure out where the first design was to go. Then I taped the smallest design up, trying to see through the kraft paper to place it exactly on the mark I made, adjusting it until it was level.
The design was drawn in pencil, so you can’t see it on this photo. I kept the bottom untaped so I could lift it up to place the graphite paper.
MASKING TAPE WOULDN’T STICK TO THE GRAPHITE PAPER!!
The museum came to the rescue with old-fashioned brown masking tape instead of the easy-removing blue type.
This design is called Quail, taken directly from a Yokuts basket design. I used a straight edge and traced over the pencil lines with an obsolete tool from the olden days of phototypesetting that my students and I refer to as a “spatula”. (Too hard to explain.)
Squint hard, and you can see how it landed on the wall.
What next? I’ll show you in two days.