Continuing to Paint in Summer’s Heat

Summer lasts a little bit too long for my liking. In early July, I was tired of it. That is an unpopular view, and I accept my status as a weirdo in this regard. However, I soldier onward in the heat, thankful for the inadequate swamp cooler in the painting workshop, and the inadequate wall unit in the studio. When I am finished painting for the day, I stagger into the house and cool off in the most totally excellent central air conditioning.

Sometimes I go walking in the mornings with my good friend. Occasionally we see a garbage bear.

Then I come home and paint.

I added wildflowers to the 8×8″ oil painting of Franklin Falls in Mineral King. They are mountain pride, arnica, and Indian paintbrush. Although they were not in either reference photo, I’ve seen them all at Franklin Falls. Being the boss of my painting, I took artistic license. Here it is, drying on the wood pile stack.

Having finished the smaller paintings destined for the Silver City Store, I returned to building up a body of work for the October-December show at CACHE.

Like most of what I have chosen to paint lately, this isn’t easy. Look at my reference photo, taken from inside the car. Traffic stopped briefly so at least it is focused.

The working title is Keep Right. Although that is very good instruction to drivers heading to Giant Forest in Sequoia as they approach the Four Guardsmen, I am doubting my ability to make the sign look good. Besides, we live in times when people tend to be highly sensitive, spring-loaded in the offended position, so out of deference to those folks, I will think of another title.

Or you can think of another title. . . I’m not easily offended, and love to hear good ideas from my tens of readers, most of whom are friends in real life.

I wasn’t kidding when I said it was hot. Look what happened while I was painting.

Wow. What a sensitive little snowflake. It was only 103° that day.

Painting in the Summer Heat

Last year when sales were almost non-existent, I forgot what it is like to arrange a painting schedule around the heat and the limitations of a swamp cooler. Now I remember. Everything has a downside and an upside. Last year up—no painting in the heat. This year up—good sales.

All set up, ready to begin, early in the morning.

I finished the 6×18 bridge and took it out to the woodpile for drying.

Then I got sidetracked polishing the door handle. Good thing I’m not on anyone’s time clock.

Next: Franklin Falls. This is 2 miles up the left/east side of the Mineral King valley, a pleasant walk with only a little bit of uphill, followed by a cold wade across the creek, unless you are inclined to rock hop, which I am not. I have 2 photos, neither of which is ideal, and neither of which is square.

That’s okay. . . I know the place pretty well, and I know what people expect to see.

When something is full of fiddly detail that can’t be exactly duplicated, because of ridiculousness and cramming 2 rectangles into a square, I just find the things that matter most. The rest can be fudged.

If you’ve been to Franklin Falls, I think you’d see that this is becoming recognizable and believable.

In discussing this painting with Hiking Buddy, I told her that it is sort of colorless, all greens and browns and grays. She wisely said (reading my mind), “That’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a few wildflowers”.

Off to the woodpile for drying; the flowers will go on nicely once it is dry. Or not nicely, but if it is dry, I can wipe them off and try again.

Fast Sequoias

What does “fast sequoias” mean?

It means that my sequoia paintings sell quickly and sometimes I have to paint more speedy-quick-like-lightning, chop-chop, andalé andalé!!

It looked like this:

Skies first, then take them outside to begin drying while I go do a few chores.

I hung one on the studio door to dry, and the other one in a less photogenic location.

While the paintings were outside in the ever-increasing July temperatures, I was in the swamp-cooled workshop, mixing browns and greens.

When I had the basic shapes covered in the base redwood colors, I began detailing one at a time

It was getting too hot to keep stopping for progress photos, so here is how things wound up at the end of the painting session.

One was shipped to Texas; the other might still be available at Kaweah Arts (in the Dome in Three Rivers, river side of 198/Sierra Drive.)

Three Ready and Two Not Ready to Sign

I made a list of what to fix on Red Barn, Big Oak, fixed it, and decided it is good enough to sign. (There is time to change my mind and add, correct, or subtract.)

I put another layer on the bridge, which is going to be a challenge for many reasons. This is the Marble Fork Bridge, one that most people probably just zoom over and don’t notice.

After taking another series of drive-by-shots, sketching some possible corrections, and making a list of things to improve, these hills seemed ready to sign.

Glowing Homer’s Nose was fun with these colors and simple plain distant hills. It seemed ready to sign.

I added a lot of detail to the big Classic Mineral King painting, but didn’t even get to all that was on the list. It isn’t ready to sign yet.

None of the colors seem accurate, but I photographed all the paintings inside on a day when the light outside was orangey because once again, it is fire season in Three Rivers, Sequoia, and the foothills.

Really Big Oil Painting of Classic Mineral King

The day finally came to finish this painting. Well, not entirely finish, because after I photograph a painting, I usually see a long list of things to fix or change or improve. I don’t know why this becomes evident when looking on a screen; it is also true for my drawing students and other friends who paint or draw.

The tall trees were the next thing to paint, and I decided it was time to go in search of my floor easel for larger paintings. We have a lot of storage space, and it wasn’t easy to find or retrieve this thing. But, it was worth the effort—tall easel=ease of painting but ease of locating.

I cleared off the table where an easel usually sits. Whoa, I have a lot of brushes.

Then I lowered the painting so I could sit on the stool and still reach the top. I used to paint standing up. My feet used to not be numb. I’m thankful I can still paint at all.

Stop procrastinating, Central California Artist! You have a large painting to complete, so chop-chop!

First, I redid some of the background details (not so as you’d notice in these little photos, but I didn’t want you to think I was just sitting there.)

A tree grows in Mineral King/Three Rivers/on canvas.

And another tree grows.

Shrub and water time.

Now the canvas is covered. Time to let it dry.

I wondered what it looked like in real sunshine so I carried it outside for a photo. It isn’t signed and the edges aren’t painted, so it didn’t matter that the easel cast a shadow on the top.

Let’s have a little fun. . .

I think this is fun. Simple pleasures. . .

Before I put on my metaphorical critical hat, I just want to enjoy the sense of almost completion of this 18×36″ oil painting of classic Mineral King. I wonder if it will sell at Silver City, sell from my website, or hang on until the solo show in October at CACHE. . . more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

18×36″, oil on wrapped canvas, suitable for framing or ready to hang as is, Classic Mineral King, $1500

While I Was Getting Gas

At The Four-Way, right next to the Chevron station, there is a classic red barn with an enormous Valley oak tree, quercus lobata. It’s just part of the landscape, and one day while I was getting gas, I realized that this barn could just tumble, or the excess pavement near the tree could prevent it from getting the water it requires and BOOM, gone-zo. So, I took a photo to paint from, realizing there would need to be some severe editing and a liberal application of artistic license.

I started painting it one morning when I was a bit short on time but eager to get rolling. A friend stopped by to visit and kept me company while I started. I felt pretty optimistic about the painting by the end of the session.

Then I looked at this photo and realized the barn’s proportions were completely whackadoodle. So, I erased the worst parts.

Then I drew them in correctly. (How/why did I skip this step initially?? Never mind about having a friend hanging out. . . I used to be able to talk and draw.)

Back on track. . .

I realized that the orange trees needed to be different shades of green from the oak, so I mixed new greens and fixed up that grove.

Then I started working on the tree.

There was too much sky, and it needed hills and mountains.

Those clumps of leaves seemed to take forever.

It was a good day painting, and when I finished, I sat across from it with my critical hat on (metaphorically speaking because I wasn’t actually wearing a hat), I made a list of about 10 things to correct or add.

Want to see the photo that I snapped while I was getting gas?

You can see that severe editing was required to turn it back into a real countrified scene. And you can probably see about 90 things that I can do to make it be a better painting.

Ad-libbing, Guessing, Winging It

On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.

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Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.

Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.

With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.

I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.

A Situation and a Recovery

A week ago, I had a situation to deal with: I got sick. Such a disruption. I was only able to paint a little bit before the need to lie down took over.

While reclining, I used the laptop to look carefully at the paintings finished and paintings needed for the upcoming solo show at CACHE. More paintings are needed, but feeling poorly meant that I would paint poorly.

There were other tasks to tackle, ones that didn’t require heavy concentration. One day I gathered canvases, put on the hanging wires, chose titles, assigned inventory numbers, and actually slapped on a light layer of paint. I knew it wasn’t a good day for painting when I dropped my palette. It landed upside down, of course. I headed back to the couch.

These are all 8×16″, a new size for me. 10×20″ was too big, and 6×12″ was too small. These might be just right, as Goldilocks said.
These are all 16×20″.

Another simple task for another day was to scan these two new Mineral King paintings.

Sawtooth #61, 8×8″, $145
Mineral King Valley #7, 8×8″, $145

Recovery came; it always does (except when it is time for the big dirt nap).

Painting Mineral King with the Swamp Cooler

On another hot day with my brave swamp cooler, I focused on the giant oil painting of the classic Mineral King scene.

I was thankful to have the sky finished—well, finished unless I decide later that it isn’t finished. It is just too tall for me to reach, so some logistics must be addressed each time I work on it. Tabletop about 3′, lowest easel setting about 5″, top of painting another 3′. I’ve used a ladder in the past but my numb feet don’t want to stand on a rung these days. I do have a large floor easel, but am too lazy to set it up. It’s just one painting—I can stretch.

Details on the peaks, building up the background as I work lower (and closer to the viewer in the scene).

Fix that cabin!

Sort out the river ripples, rocks, and layers of willows according to the “map” I drew a couple of weeks ago. This distinction isn’t very visible in the final photo, but it makes sense to me.

Give up and go in the house. Five hours in the swampy heat is enough for today. I’m guessing to have about 15 hours remaining to completion. That is a WAG (Wild [Donkey] Guess), for those readers who always like to know how long a painting takes. This probably already had 3 hours in it before I started back up.

Back to Painting Mineral King.

Thanks for taking a detour with me to Hume Lake. I came home and went straight to the easels. Mineral King is my main subject this time of year, a short season with no time to lollygag around. (Imagine taking a vacation FROM Mineral King!)

This piece got sky, and I started shaping the mountains that form Farewell Gap. It is 18×36″, and will take awhile to complete.

So, it is necessary to focus on some small pieces. Again.

I finished these five. One of the Mineral King Family Cabin paintings was painted for a blog reader, but I haven’t heard back from her, so maybe she didn’t read the comment reply or the email I sent her. (HELLO, JO L! ARE YOU STILL INTERESTED?)

These two 8×8″ canvases will become Sawtooth #61 and Mineral King Valley #7.

All the paintings are to be sold at the Silver City Store, unless they sell here first.

(6×6″ = $70, 8×8″ = $145, 18×36″ = $1500 Thanks for asking.)